Party Girl by Rachel Hollis Read Free Book Online Page B

doors again.
    Through the speaker in the ceiling Lionel Richie reminds me that he’s easy like Sunday morning. It’s the perfect awkward song for this horrendously awkward moment. God, can’t this thing move any faster? I look up to see the progress of the elevator car . . . Three more floors to go.
    Right then is when I realize that he hasn’t hit the button for a different floor. Which means he’s also going to the top floor, and SSE is the only office up there. Which means he’s headed there too. Ugh!
    Finally, blessedly, the doors open, and I don’t even look at my companion or the rude receptionist. I make a beeline past the partition and head for my chair. I’ve never been so desperate to sit in a hidden corner in my life! Only, as I’m walking, I realize the model is following me. I don’t hear him speak with the receptionist or anyone else, and no one acknowledges him as he trails behind me. So, clearly, he being in this space isn’t unusual.
    Oh please Lord and Baby Jesus, do not let him be . . .
    “Brody Ashton, you’ve kept me waiting,” Selah purrs from the doorframe of her office.
    She’s reapplied her lip gloss; I can see the shine all the way from here. Also that flirty voice is back, and I know without question this is the “Brody” from her phone call earlier.
    I continue walking, but for the smallest moment I squeeze my eyes shut as if it might erase this car wreck that is my life.
    Just keep moving forward. Keep smiling. Nothing to see here, people.
    I walk towards Selah since she’s standing directly in front of me and clearly sees that I’ve got her coffee in my hand. When I’m a few feet away she nods towards her office.
    “Put it on my desk, Brinkley,” she says, looking past me.
    I walk past her and set the drink down on the desk. All the while I’m wondering if maybe I should have just let the bran muffin take me when it had the chance.
    I turn from the desk, tray in hand, and keep my eyes trained on my shoes. When I get to the door Selah is in my way, and I have no choice but to look up at her and Brody. Light blue eyes consider me for a second before looking away.
    “We seem to be in the way here,” he says, pulling Selah to the side to let me pass.
    “I didn’t even think of getting you something, B. I can send her back if you want,” Selah tells him.
    She doesn’t even look at me when she asks, just continues to stare at him, smiling her glossy, fake smile.
    “No, I’m good. Thank you, though. Are you ready?”
    I don’t wait to hear what she says; I’m already back in the small office handing out the other coffees and thinking very seriously about how much alcohol I might need to drink to forget the last hour of my life.

    That night McKenna doesn’t let me leave until after seven. By the time I’m dismissed I have copied, filed, collated, stapled, schlepped, and researched until I can’t see straight, and I’ve done everything so fast I haven’t had time to sit down in between. At this point I’m so tired I can’t imagine anything better than putting on my oldest sweatpants and eating a vat of mac’n’cheese on the couch. I head out to the elevator and spy Miko headed in the same direction. She takes one look at my face and declares that we’re going to find a happy hour.
    “I don’t know if I’m up for going out,” I say dejectedly.
    “Oh no, you need a drink! You look exactly like Clari when she found out she couldn’t make out with Jace anymore because he was actually her brother.”
    “I’m embarrassed that I recognize that reference.” The elevator doors open, and we both get inside.
    “Why is that embarrassing? Those books are epic.” Miko hits the elevator button. “Though I do sometimes wish I didn’t get so addicted to YA series. I mean, it’s like book after book filled with heavy petting, and all I want the characters to do is get it on. It’s so frustrating!” Miko says, rifling through the giant neon bag she has slung