On the Avenue by Antonio Pagliarulo Read Free Book Online Page A

from a comfortable distance.
    Now the woman was plant fertilizer. Jeremy shookhis head to blot out the image of her slender neck straining against the pressure of the scarf. It was such an ugly memory. On movie sets there were all kinds of gadgets and makeup and camera tricks that mimicked murder with stunning accuracy, but nothing compared to seeing the real thing up close. He still couldn't believe it had actually happened. He had heard hundreds of unflattering stories about Zahara Bell over the past three years, and there was no shortage of people who had reason to want her dead. She had been the quintessential bitch, making and breaking the careers of fashion designers all over the world. As editor in chief of
Catwalk
magazine, she'd published scathing articles and humiliated dozens of high-profile celebrities who had simply rubbed her the wrong way. She had ripped through countless frightened assistants as well. In one particularly shocking tale, Zahara had apparently called a board meeting at
Catwalk
magazine for the sole purpose of embarrassing a number of young female employees who hadn't lived up to her fashionable standards; she had identified them one by one using less than flattering names:
Lard Legs, Pimple Princess, Dandruff Drag Queen,
and
Jiggle-Butt.
Zahara herself had also been branded in the press by her enemies. Depending on who was talking about her, she was often referred to as a “bloodsucking python” or a “venomous scorpion.” A well-liked woman she was not.
    Jeremy set the empty martini glass on the windowsill and peeled off his shirt. It was soaked through with sweat. Cursing, he threw it onto the couch and stomped into the bathroom, where he studied his reflection in the mirror. All that damn nervous energy had caused him to break out in hives. There were two bright red dots on his forehead and another just beside his nose. Thankfully, the rest of his upper body looked good. Park Hamilton had been pressed up against his chest a short while ago. He could still feel the heat of her lips and smell the sweetness of her perfume. She was
so
hot. He wished more than anything that they could've finished what they had started. The only evidence of their little rendezvous was the pinkish purple hickey forming on the left side of his neck. He touched it gently and bit down on his lower lip, trying to control the hormones raging through his blood.
    He hadn't meant to ditch her. It had been an act of sheer, stupid panic. As the commotion in the coatroom heightened, Jeremy had stormed down the hallway and out of the museum's front doors. He had even seen that short fat photographer making a run for it. He couldn't imagine how upset Park must have been when she realized he had left her flat and cold to deal with the whole mess. She and her sisters were probably calling him a dickless asshole right now,but dammit, that was totally untrue. Running away from danger wasn't Jeremy's style; it never had been. If he had managed to keep his wits in order, he would've gathered Park into his arms and held her until the cops showed up. He would've showed her that he was more than just a famous face. But fear had gotten the best of him. In those terror-filled moments, he had heard his publicist's voice echoing in his head like thunder.
    The biggest rule of fame, Jeremy, is to control your publicity. Don't create a scandal unless it will benefit your career.
    And as far as he could tell, there was nothing good about being connected to Zahara Bell's murder.
    There was, however, something to be said for snagging one of the Hamilton triplets.
    Despite the fact that he and Park had only just met, Jeremy knew the connection between them was fierce. Hell, it might even be love at first sight. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. Just thinking about her made his heart pound. He had hooked up with more girls than he could count, but Park was different from any of them. She had style and class and grace. She had