Blonde Ops Read Online Free Page A

“He’s sooo hot! And sweet too. Come on.” She dragged me downstairs. Didn’t have to tell me twice.
    The messenger-god walked into the downstairs area the same time we did, a fat envelope under his arm.
    â€œ Ciao, Dante,” said Sophie, a bright lilt in her voice.
    Dante. Like the poet. I was definitely feeling the inferno.
    He smiled and winked at her.
    Um … my turn?
    Dante turned a glorious, blue-eyed stare at me. “ Sto cercando …” He looked at the package, “Rebecca Jackson?”
    I didn’t know what the first part meant, but at least I recognized my name, and it sounded oh so luscious rolling off his tongue.
    â€œThat’s me.”
    He smiled shyly and handed the envelope over. Promptly, I dropped it.
    Laughing, he scooped it up from the floor and presented it to me as if it were a bouquet of red roses. I dragged my eyes away from him and checked the address. It was from Dean Harding. Oh joy—my homework. He must have put it all together last week when he and my mother had their secret meeting.
    Dante carelessly tossed his hair, but it slid right back, making a curtain over one sexy eye. I was thinking that things weren’t going to be so terrible, independent study notwithstanding. With a crooked grin that left me speechless, he turned and left.
    Breathe, Bec.
    â€œSuch a waste,” said Taliah, moving next to me, a disbelieving look on her face.
    I turned to her. “What?”
    â€œDo you know how many times Angelo tried to get him to model? I’ve seen agents chase him down to put a business card in his hand.” She quickly peered over to where Francesca sat at the front desk flipping through a binder fat with model photos. “She’d kill for an opportunity like that, but she’ll never get one—not with that beak.”
    I tried not to stare at Francesca’s slightly hooked nose. It didn’t seem that bad. Other models had imperfections—a space between their front teeth, eyes two different colors, or a beauty mark—and that didn’t stop them from making it to the runway or a front cover.
    Taliah shook her head and threw up her hands. “He could be making twenty times what he’s getting being a delivery boy. He won’t even date a model! So stupid.”
    With an exaggerated swing of her hips, she strutted away. I glanced at Sophie, who shrugged helplessly. I decided that messenger-god Dante was someone I wanted to get to know better.
    â€œBec!”
    I looked up to see Kevin leering down from the balcony like a vulture.
    â€œParker wants you in her office. Now!”
    â€œShe’s here?” I gasped. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
    He looked bored. “She had important things to do. Hurry up.”
    I tried to remember the many faces I’d seen during the day. One of them had to be Parker’s, but which? “Where?” I asked.
    â€œYou forgot already?” His voice was snide. “Maybe the door with the sign that says ‘Parker Phillips’?”
    As I trudged upstairs, I thought it might be a good idea to learn some low-down, insult-your-mama Italian that I could use on Kevin.
    Better yet, Dante could teach me.

 
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    TRICKS AND TIPS FOR THE EDGE-Y GIRL
    Color sends a message! Kick up your confidence in a pair of sky-high RED heels, or exude an aura of mystery in BLACK. Share a little sunshine with a splash of YELLOW or your positive outlook (and love of luxury) with a big ol’ blast of ORANGE!
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    3
    â€œCome in!” called a muffled voice.
    I opened the door, steeling myself to meet Parker Phillips.
    A petite dark-skinned beauty rose from behind a cluttered desk to greet me. Her hair was sleek and cropped close to her head in tight-set curls. She reminded me of a glossy blackbird, bright-eyed and quick.
    â€œHi, Bec. I’m Parker. It’s nice to have you here.” She stuck out a firm hand for me to shake. I took it,