Fast & Loose by Elizabeth Bevarly (best classic books to read txt) 📗

look great in red. I’m telling you, Lulu, this”—she shook the brief, beaded little number at her—“is your style. Not…” She waved a dismissive hand at Lulu’s jeans and black T-shirt. “That.”

“No, Bree, I really think this”—she struck a pose like a Price Is Right model—“is the real me.”

Bree shook her head at her friend. “I don’t know what Cole Early was thinking to hire you for this when I’m clearly a better qualified applicant.”

There was nothing malicious or demeaning in Bree’s tone—or even her statement. It was simply a statement of fact, one that had crossed Lulu’s mind more than once since yesterday. Cole had met both her and Bree, had spent time with both her and Bree. Bree had been far more interesting a conversationalist and far more dazzling a woman than Lulu. Bree had made clear her interest in getting to know him better.

Which, okay, was probably why Cole had offered the position to Lulu instead of Bree. Because Bree was the sort of woman he was trying to avoid—gorgeous, built, hot, and distracting.

Lulu pushed the thought away. She also pushed the dress away. “Not that one,” she told Bree. “I just wouldn’t be comfortable in it.”

Bree blew out an exasperated sound. “Lulu, the only way you’re going to be comfortable tonight is to wait out in the car.”

She had a point.

“So as long as you’re going to be uncomfortable,” her friend continued, “you might as well look smokin’ hot, babe. And this dress”—she shook the garment at Lulu again—“will do exactly that.”

Of the four Bree had pulled out of the closet, the red one was, without question, the last one Lulu wanted to wear. She looked at the other three that her friend had tossed onto the bed. The first was a hot pink strapless number with a wide skirt that reminded Lulu of a tutu. Lulu in a tutu was not going to happen. The second was a sapphire blue sequined thing that might be comfortable because it was stretchy, if it weren’t for the fact that it was stretchy because it was the size of an electron. The third was an emerald green, off-the-shoulder creation made of a matte-finish satin that was actually very pretty, but its wraparound cut promised to fit pretty snugly.

Nevertheless, it was that dress that Lulu picked up. “This one,” she said. “I’ll wear this one.”

Bree smiled. “Excellent choice. I have some great shoes and jewelry to go with that you will absolutely love.” She tilted her head at Lulu and narrowed her eyes in a way that Lulu had seen some of her artist friends do when they were studying an especially problematic piece they were working on.

“What?” Lulu said. She lifted her hands to her face. “Do I have a big zit?”

“Worse,” Bree told her.

Lulu’s eyes went wide. “Poison ivy?”

“Worse.”

She ran her hands over her face, but her skin felt as smooth and unblemished as ever. Her hair then. Well, hell, that was always a problem. So what was Bree so worried about?

“What, Bree?” she asked.

Bree sighed and tossed the red dress onto the bed with the others, then took Lulu by the hand and led her to the cheval mirror in the corner of the room. She turned her so she was facing it, then went back for the green dress, which she held up in front of Lulu on the return trip. Lulu saw the problem immediately. The dress was gorgeous. So gorgeous, that Lulu was nearly invisible standing behind it. The addition of great shoes and jewelry would doubtless make her disappearance complete.

“It’s okay,” Bree said. “I have hair product and lip gloss, and I’m not afraid to use it. Even on you. When I get through with you, Lulu, the dress is going to be incidental.”

Lulu doubted that. Still, she had just enough pride to not want to be shown up by a bit of fabric—even if it was pretty incredible fabric. She squared her shoulders as she turned to look at Bree. And her voice only trembled a little when she said, “Do your worst.”

COLE SLUNG HIS EMERALD SILK TIE THROUGH A second loop to finish the perfect double-Windsor, a knot he’d completed so often, and did so well, that he didn’t even have to look in a mirror anymore to complete it. As he leaned over the bed in Lulu’s tiny bedroom, reading the Daily Race Form he’d opened on it, he absently—and perfectly—adjusted the collar of his black dress shirt until it completely covered the tie. The jockey silks of Susannah’s stables were emerald and black, and Cole wanted to be sure he dressed in those colors tonight, for the Trainers’ Reception. And he breathed a mental sigh of relief that Susannah Pennington, although a girly girl in many ways, was a woman of bold fashion taste. Although he was a man who liked color in his clothing, Cole didn’t think he could have done Pennington Stables justice if he’d had to go out in Barbie pink and My Pretty Pony lavender. Bad enough he even knew what Barbie and My Pretty Pony were—though that was thanks to Susannah’s niece Madison, who was an even bigger girly girl than Susannah was.

He finished reading the latest odds for all the Derby entries and reached for the black suit jacket he’d tossed over the desk chair, shrugging it on and arranging the emerald silk handkerchief in the breast pocket just so. When he turned to head out, his eye fell on the photograph of the five women he’d moved from the dresser to the nightstand. He now recognized not only Lulu among the women, but Bree as well. The white string bikini was still a mystery—he made a mental note to ask Lulu about her at some point, simply to assuage his curiosity—but his gaze no longer strayed to the blonde. As always since discovering Lulu was the owner of the house, Cole’s gaze always fixed immediately on her. The one in the