Perfect on Paper by Maria Murnane Read Free Book Online

Nelson Tennis. I briefly toyed with the idea of going with them, but when it was time to pull the trigger, I just couldn’t rally.
    I shook my head. “Sorry, boys, but my pink sheets and free payper-view sound much more appealing than a crowded room at this moment.”
    “C’mon, Bryson,” Davey said, putting on his coat. “Don’t be antisocial.”
    “You sure?” Kent said, standing up. “The man of your dreams might be there….”
    I yawned. “Then tell him I’m sorry we couldn’t meet, again . If I want to stay awake at the booth tomorrow, I need to get in about fifteen hours of sleep tonight. Aren’t you guys tired at all?”
    Davey shook his head. “Nope, gotta enjoy this hall pass.”
    “Me neither,” Kent said. “I’m fired up for a free night out.”
    They took off, and I headed to the ladies’ room. A hall pass? That’s what they called it? I washed my hands and shook my head. While Davey and Kent both welcomed a night out without their significant others, I felt a wave of loneliness hit me that I hadn’t felt in months.
    A free night out ? I wished I had someone to curl up on the couch with every night, someone who wanted to hear about my day and rub my tired feet. I looked down and tried to remember if anyone had ever rubbed my feet. Aaron definitely hadn’t been a foot rubber.
    Sigh. Why was I still lying about how our engagement had ended?
    I pulled my ponytail holder out and shook my head, running my fingers through my hair and stretching my neck from side to side. Good Lord, only one day at the booth and already I felt like I was 130 years old. I thought about all the interviews I’d sat through, all the people I’d talked to, all the follow-up work I’d have to do when I got back to San Francisco. Ugh. I ran my hands through my hair again and looked at my reflection. The Atlanta air was always kind to my hair, and despite the convention arena air-conditioning, it felt healthy and strong and … WHAT?
    I leaned close to the mirror and grabbed at a strand of hair on the right side of my head.
    It was grey.
    WHAT?
    I yanked it out and held it up in the light. It was grey and thick, and did I mention it was grey and thick? It was like someone had woven a strand of dental floss into my scalp.
    Sweet Jesus.
    I tossed the hair into the trash can and looked at myself in the mirror. This couldn’t be happening, could it? I mean, what the hell? I had to get out of there. I pulled my hair back into a low ponytail and quickly walked out into the empty hallway.
    My cell phone rang, but I tossed it back in my purse when I saw my dad’s name on the caller ID. Then I leaned up against the wall and closed my eyes. A grey hair? Was I over the hill already?
    “Hey, are you okay?” a male voice said.
    I opened my eyes and saw Shane standing outside the men’s room.
    “I just found a grey hair!” I blurted out, then immediately covered my mouth with both hands.
    “Oh God, please tell me I didn’t just say that,” I whispered.
    He smiled and shook his head. “Sorry, too late.”
    “I thought you left,” I said.
    He pointed to the men’s room. “Pit stop.”
    “Oh my God, I’m so embarrassed, Shane. Please don’t tell Kent and Davey, okay? They’ll crucify me.”
    “For a grey hair?” he said.
    “For anything related to getting one step closer to spinsterhood.”
    He nodded. “Those guys definitely like to tease you, but it’s all in good fun, isn’t it?”
    “Yeah, but, well, sometimes, well, sometimes they go a little too far. And this week is already sucking enough.”
    “It is?” He sounded surprised.
    “Oh, it has nothing to do with you and the show. It’s just that, well …”
    I looked up at him. There was something in his eyes that told me I could trust him. Or maybe it was the two glasses of wine I had drunk at dinner telling me I could. But regardless, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to confide in someone who wasn’t a part of my life in San Francisco. Right