Party Girl by Rachel Hollis Read Free Book Online Page A

after the morning meeting. But I haven’t openly pissed off anyone today, and that’s going a long way towards boosting my confidence.
    On another positive note, I’m going to work my first SSE event this weekend! Ishould probably be a little more terrified after seeing Selah’s temper firsthand, but I know I can impress her at this party. At least I think I can.
    Back in the lobby of the SSE building I juggle the coffee tray and hit the button for the elevator. I step in and, as the doors slide together, shove the entirety of the remaining muffin into my mouth in an attempt to finish it before I reach the top floor. No one has expressly forbidden it, but I’m pretty sure carbs aren’t allowed inside this building.
    I have just started chewing the gorged mouthful when a hand flies between the closing elevator doors. The doors slide back open and standing there is . . . Jesus, in his human form.
    OK, not Jesus. Not Jesus, but easily the hottest man I have ever seen in my life! Did I just call Jesus a hottie? I did. I think I did, and I’m for sure going to burn in hell. I guess I just meant that this guy is so beautiful, he’s got to be some kind of deity. He’s well over six feet tall and has perfectly tousled dark-blonde hair and the lightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. His skin is sun-browned surfer perfection, he’s rocking this sort of scruffy five o’clock shadow, and he’s got lips that no one of the male species deserves to have. He’s wearing a perfectly cut, light-gray suit, a crisp white button-down, and no tie. He doesn’t necessarily look old, but he seems very grown-up. He fairly oozes confidence and money, and I’m sure his suit probably cost more than my car.
    The guy takes a step inside the elevator and resumes typing into the phone in his hands. I see him open another e-mail on his screen and start reading, completely unaware of my presence. It’s only after he starts typing a response that I realize I have a mouthful of muffin that I’ve stopped chewing, and I’m just staring at him like a deranged chipmunk.
    Kill me!
    I duck my head and do one massive swallow.
    Big mistake.
    Like all late-in-the-day pastries, this one is totally dried out, and it absolutely refuses to go down my throat! My eyes dart to him to make sure he’s not looking at me.
    Of course he’s looking at me!
    My eyes are bugging out, and I’m trying not to spill the coffees.
    I start choking and coughing like a moron, but I swear I’m doing my best to asphyxiate as demurely as possible!
    No go.
    There’s dreamy guy, looking all pulled together and gorgeous, and here’s me, being all cough-spastic, breath-wheeze-cough-cough death rattle . This is it. I’m going to choke to death in an elevator dressed like I’m on my way to a hooker’s funeral, and this blonde male model is going to watch me die!
    All of a sudden he steps in front of me, looking concerned.
    “Are you OK?”
    Even as I’m coughing bits of bran muffin into my hand, I can’t help but stare up at his mouth. His teeth are perfect. I wonder if he ever had braces .
    He doesn’t wait for my response, since clearly I’m in no position to give him one. He just takes the coffee tray from me with one hand and starts pounding me on the back way too hard. My coughing fades slightly, and he reaches to grab a drink at random.
    “Here, drink this.” He hands me the coffee.
    I shake my head, my voice coming out squeaky. “Not mine.”
    He looks at me like I’m an idiot. “I’m sure whomever it belongs to won’t mind.”
    I clear my throat about fourteen times and then try and speak again.
    “She’d mind,” I choke out. “I doubt she’d use the liquid in it to put me out if I was on fire.” I reach out to take the tray back.
    The model looks at me skeptically but relinquishes the tray. “If you say so.”
    I nod stupidly and take one giant sideways step to give myself some space. He watches me for a beat and then turns around to face the elevator