Man Trouble by Melanie Craft Read Free Book Online Page B

to anchor far, far away from shore. Most importantly, there needed to be no women on it at all.
    “
Who
is
that?”
Amanda said suddenly, focusing on a point past Fiona's shoulder. Jake followed her gaze. Despite the crowd on the terrace, it wasn't hard to guess who she was talking about. They were not the only ones staring.
    A woman was standing in the frame of the open French doors, facing the crowd. She had paused there like a living portrait, arranged with one foot forward, one hip thrust slightly out, shoulders back, and hands raised elegantly as if she were welcoming everyone to her own soiree. She had platinum-blond hair styled into a shining, shoulder-grazing curtain, and her eyes were concealed behind smoky silver sunglasses. She wore a candy-pink dress that was tight enough to display a very ample chest and a tiny waist. Her legs were long, her heels were high, and she seemed to be planning to stand in the doorway indefinitely.
    Just behind her were a frosty-looking woman and a small, brown-haired man wearing a rumpled seersucker suit and horn-rimmed glasses. As Jake watched, the small man poked the extraordinary blonde in the back and whispered something in her ear. The blonde unlocked herself from her pose, stumbled slightly, collected herself quickly, and strutted out onto the terrace.
    Fiona muttered something under her breath that ended with “…real, then I'm the bloody Archbishop of Canterbury.”
    “Pink is
so
last season,” Amanda added in a similar tone.
    Jake said nothing. He was no expert on real versus fake, and he had always liked women in pink. The stranger was the sort that the paparazzi would love, and she was exactly the type of woman he was known to take to very public places. But in light of his current situation, she was about as appealing as a loaf of moldy bread. The last thing he needed in his life right now was another flashy diva.
    His mother had been chatting with a Palm Beach realestate agent, but as Jake glanced over, he saw that Cora had excused herself and was headed for the blond stranger. To Jake's surprise—and instinctive alarm—she greeted the woman warmly, as if they knew each other. He hoped that this was not the next of his mother's attempts to manage his personal life. Did this Jayne Mansfield clone also come from a “good family”?
    Apparently so, because Cora was now beckoning him over. With a sense of moving from the frying pan into the fire, Jake walked over to join them.
    “Darling,” said his mother. “I knew that you wanted a chance to personally welcome our latest celebrity. Sandra, this is my son, Jake Berenger. Jake, dear, this is Sandra St. Claire.”
    “How do you do?” the blonde said, extending her hand. Jake took it, shook it, and—as he had done many times before—tried to look as if he knew who this person was.
    Cora's eyes narrowed slightly. She had an uncanny ability to read his mind. “Sandra tells me that this is a working vacation for her,” she said pointedly. “How exciting to think that her next
best-selling novel
might be written at Gold Bay.”
    The older blonde cleared her throat, and Sandra jumped. “These are my friends,” she said quickly. “Elaine Newberg and Carter McKee.”
    “Charmed,” said Elaine Newberg, offering her fingers to him. She looked vaguely familiar, in a socialite sort of way.
    “Have we met?” he asked.
    Her smile was approving. “No,” she said, “but you may have seen me on
Oprah.”
    Jake doubted that very much. “That must be it,” he said. “You're a novelist, too?”
    Elaine laughed a silvery laugh. “Good heavens, no,” she said, “I am a relationship consultant. I specialize in teaching women how to leverage their natural potential in order to maximize their worldly success.”
    Jake looked blankly at her. “Great,” he said.
    Elaine patted him on the arm. “One should always say ‘yes’ to success,” she said. “Men understand this instinctively. Women must be