Beautiful Liars Read Online Free

magalog king of Manhattan, a man on the cutting edge of hybrid publications that combinedelements of a magazine and a catalogue. Garrison knew how to finely doctor the editorial mix to control the message and create a brand world. His clients included top retailers and designers like Bergdorf Goodman, Neiman Marcus, Tory Burch, Kate Spade, and Donatella Versace.
    Garrison was not quite handsome, not quite in shape, but quite old enough to be Emma’s father. Still, there was a sexinessabout him, a worldly, baby-I’ve-lived-a-full-life attitude that captivated her. He had approached her on the street with a simple, “You’re beautiful. Have dinner with me tonight.”
    It became a distraction that saved her from the daily despairof reading about Dean Paul and Tilly’s newborn child, whom they had christened Cantaloupe. Apparently, they suffered from the Chronic Stupid Name Syndrome that afflicted so many other celebrities. There was Gwyneth Paltrow’s Apple, Claudia Schiffer’s Casper,Toni Braxton’s Denim, John Mellencamp’sSpeck Wildhorse, Nicolas Cage’s Kal-el, and former Spice Girl Geri Halliwell’s Bluebell Madonna to name only a few. And now there was Cantaloupe Lockhart.
    Just having Garrison around to occasionally fawn over her provided enough emotional succor to persevere through the baby crisis. Suddenly, before Emma even fully realized it, she found herself involved in another relationship. Dean Paul’s heat had been replaced by Garrison’s comfort. It was hardly perfect.But it was not the worst thing in the world, either.
    Emma thought this as she closed the door to the bathroomand turned on the faucet at the sink to drown out the sound of her voice. “Delilah, what the fuck am I doing?”
    â€œI assume you’re referring to your life in general,” Delilah answered glibly. “This is why I don’t recommend sex with old men. It makes a girl too existential.”
    Emma slumped down onto the edge of the bathtub. “I can predict the rest of my day. As soon as I hang up with you, I’m going to rush out and buy the Post . Then I’m going to stare at Dean Paul and that bitch and that perfect baby and be twisted up in knots for the rest of the day.”
    â€œSo do something different,” Delilah reasoned.
    â€œI’m not sure that I want to,” Emma said quietly, reflectingon how much power Dean Paul still seemed to have over her life. Once upon a time, she had been an unstoppable force—a high school overachiever, a double degree earner at the University of Miami, a fast riser in the broadcast journalismranks. And now she had become this simpering girl who could not move past a busted love affair.
    The breakup predicated almost everything that she did. Her decision to go into therapy, her reliance on antidepressants, her zombielike openness to an affair with Garrison, even her career shift from a serious journalist on Today in New York to a lightweight chatterbox on The Beehive . In some way, all of it stemmed from Dean Paul.
    â€œEmma, you have to snap out of this,” Delilah said, her voice teeming with equal parts shoulder to cry on and tough love advocacy. “He’s not worth it.”
    â€œI know,” Emma moaned, frustrated by her unwillingness to move forward. God, she was getting on her own nerves.
    â€œYou need a hot guy to give you a little amnesia. Someone sexier and more famous than Dean Paul.What about Matthew McConaughey?”
    Emma cracked a smile. “Do you have his number?”
    Delilah sighed. “No, but even if I did, I wouldn’t give it to you. He’s my fantasy.”
    â€œFine,” Emma sniffed. “Just don’t expect me to share Patrick Dempsey.”
    â€œOh, you bitch. I forgot about him. Let’s trade.”
    â€œNever,” Emma teased.
    â€œSo have you checked on Garrison since you bumped uglies?” Delilah asked. “Is he still