Entry-Level Mistress Read Online Free

had the wardrobe of a rebellious, impoverished art student. And those sweater sets. The last time I’d worn anything elegant or designer was the dress for Hartmann’s mother’s funeral. Twelve years ago.
    I’d even worn pants to prom.
    But I needed to convince Hartmann that I was more fascinating than any of those models. Because the only excusable reason to go on a date him was to find some way to hurt him. We were both clearly attracted to each other. History is filled with examples of attraction being used to bring down foes.
    Of course, if he was only interested because he knew who I was, then he might be more of a danger to me than I was to him. Perhaps he wasn’t yet through ruining my life. I stilled.
    “Ooh, naked girl alert!” Leanna sashayed by, plucked a purple tank dress off of a hanger. Then she continued to rifle through the closely pressed clothes, despite the fact that Leanna’s own closet was filled to the brim with designer labels, both new and vintage.
    “You are in my room,” I pointed out.
    “Yes, I am, my dearest, darling friend. And why are you still in your underwear when you are about to go on a date with
Cosmo’s
Most Eligible Bachelor of the year?”
    “Because what does one wear on such a date?”
    “Oh.” Leanna paused, turned and surveyed me. “Better underwear?”
    “Hmmph.” I crossed my arms and waited for Leanna to give a real answer. After all, there had to be some sort of perk for living with someone who worked on the fashion pages of a life and culture magazine.
    “Okay, okay, maybe an LBD? Or what is it they are saying? Pink is the new black? So you’d better make that a little pink dress. Or purple. I guess you can wear this instead of me.” With a long-suffering sigh, Leanna held out her purloined tank dress. “This with my Wolford stockings and my black Miu Mius.”
    “Really?” I accepted the dress and then followed Leanna across the apartment to her bedroom. Leanna’s blonde hair swung down her back, beautifully glossy. In spite of four years of friendship, I had a rare moment of jealousy. Thanks to the nearly black dye in my own hair, glossy was pretty much a thing of the past.
    “Well, with accessories, of course. But a bit of vintage mixed with designer is always the way to go. You’ll look fab.”
    “Is this a bad idea?” I asked as I unrolled the stockings over my legs, tweaking the fabric gently so that the intricate flower design lay correctly.
    “Going to work for him and wasting your summer in an office building was a bad idea,” Leanna reminded me. I slid my arms through the holes of the purple dress and let it slide down my body. “Going on a date with the man? Too crazy an opportunity to pass up.”
    “Right.” Left foot slid into four-inch platform heels, then right foot. I did my best imitation model walk over to the full-length mirror. Examined myself critically. Leanna’s face appeared over my left shoulder as she studied my reflection as well.
    “I think you look more like an actress than a model. Even with the extra four inches.”
    I knew what that meant. Actresses were pretty but models were stunning, freakish even in their beauty. Daniel dated models. This would never work.
    “Do you think he asked me out because he’s suspicious?” I didn’t have to elaborate. Some drunken night in the first year of our friendship, I’d confided in Leanna about my entire complicated history. In typical Leanna fashion, she’d had a nonjudgmental perspective on the whole story.
    Just as she did now.
    “Suspicious of what?” Leanna returned, with her usual bluntness. “That you might ruin him via poorly done graphic design? I doubt it would even cross his mind that you could.”
    History was filled with triumphs of those who had been underestimated. Only in this case, I suspected Leanna had the right of it. “I’m out of my league, aren’t I?”
    “In business, yes.” But then Leanna turned serious. She lifted a few strands of my