The Good Girl's Guide to Bad Men by Jessica Brody Read Free Book Online Page A

"intention to cheat" rules clearly state that all physical intimacy with a subject is limited to what the FCC will allow on network television, I imagine this job is fairly similar to a typical recurring role on a popular daytime soap opera.
    Seated next to Katie was the breathtakingly beautiful Shawna Miller. Although I think every one of my associates is irresistible in his or her own way, Shawna possesses the kind of classic, undisputable beauty that never fails to turn heads on the sidewalk. The moment I saw her, I knew she was perfect for this job. She has the kind of look that men lust after. Todd Langley is living proof of that. With long, wavy blond hair, a captivating smile, and the most perfectly straight white teeth I've ever seen, she inevitably cultivates a certain sense of "wow" that follows her everywhere she goes.
    Shawna is also incredibly versatile, which affords me a lot of flexibility when placing her on an assignment. She can play the heartbroken and vulnerable Keira Summers one night and a raging party girl the next. But with her heart-stopping good looks, curves in all the right places, and a tolerance to alcohol that's through the roof, she's usually my go-to associate for most bachelor parties. I've often overheard other members of the staff refer to her affectionately as "the final fling girl." And based on the actions of the soon-to-be husbands she encounters on her assignments, it's a fairly accurate nickname.
    Sitting across the table from Shawna was Cameron Kelly. Cameron is the only male associate at the agency. He looks remarkably like Josh Duhamel, so much so that he is often mistaken for him by fifteen-year-old girls and subsequently finds himself signing a lot of "With Love, Josh Duhamel" autographs whenever he steps foot inside a mall. Obviously, I brought him on because men aren't the only ones who cheat. Yes, the statistics are staggeringly higher, but the bottom line is—women cheat, too. And the high failure rate of his inspections is indisputable proof of that.
    Despite his protests, Cameron often finds himself wearing a uniform of some kind. I've requisitioned uniforms from almost everywhere—the navy, the marines, American Airlines, UPS, even Sparkletts on one occasion when a client insisted that his wife had a thing for the tall, handsome men who carry those five-gallon bottles of water over their shoulders. Apparently, clichés are created for a reason. And I can now tell you firsthand that married women . . . like men in uniform.
    Finally, at the far other end of the table, in her usual place, sat Teresa Song, the sultry Asian siren. At least that's the way some of the other associates like to refer to her. And I have to admit, the title fits her to a tee.
    Teresa is an enigma. She's cold, mysterious, and detached. But that's exactly why I hired her. Because a lot of men like that kind of thing. She's strikingly beautiful, with soft, feminine features, yet there doesn't appear to be one warm, sympathetic bone in her body. But men are just sort of awestruck in her presence. She definitely has the ability to reel them in with only a look. Which I suppose is a good skill to have in a "follow, not lead" business such as ours.
    Teresa doesn't say a lot around the office, and as far as I can tell, she's never made much of an attempt to get to know any of the other associates. But she shows up for staff meetings on time, writes her post-assignment reports with impressive detail, and is always extremely professional, so I can't really complain. Plus, her aloof, indifferent attitude is exactly why I hired her.
    That and her uncanny knack for real estate.
    "Teresa," I said, launching into the meeting, "Larry Klein, the real estate agent you tested last week. How did it go?" I pulled a yellow legal pad from my briefcase and flipped through a few scribble-covered pages until I located a blank one.
    "He failed," Teresa replied with her usual zero attachment.
    "Care to elaborate?" I