Barefoot Bay: Silhouettes on the Sand (Kindle Worlds Novella) Read Online Free PDF Page B

there."
    Moving away from Chase Ivory was probably a good thing. She didn't like the way her skin tingled every time he looked her way. She wasn't the tingly sort of person, and she couldn't let all this Cinderella treatment blind her to reality. This was a job. A short-term job. One that ended next Sunday morning when Chase Ivory flew to his luxury home in New York while she returned to her sister’s one-bedroom rented apartment.
    Across the hall, Missy brought C.J. into a circular room. A couple of comfortable leather chairs anchored the center, and loosely filled racks fit into smaller sections of the walls. Missy walked diagonally across the space toward a handful of gowns. She bypassed the few glistening with beads and bangles and instead reached for a one-shoulder dark purple dress that looked awfully good on the satin hanger.
    "This should be quite flattering with your figure." Missy pulled it off the rack and held it out for C.J. to approve. "This also comes with a large floral applique on the shoulder, but you don't strike me as the sort to appreciate extra bling."
    "Good call. No bling."
    Missy's smile brightened. She returned the dress to the rack, and C.J. did her best to finger what she thought might be a price tag while Missy moved to another section of clothes. However, the only numbers had to be a model number of some kind, because, if it were the cost of the dress, C.J. would need a bank loan to pay for the thing.
    "Mr. Ivory didn't mention what the bachelorette event entails. What sort of outfit did you have in mind?"
    "Beats me."
    Rather than looking down her nose at C.J. the way Veronica might have done, Missy smothered another smile. "Personally I think the world would be happier if we all could just live and work in sweats."
    "Exactly. Though in Florida I'd prefer my gym shorts and a T-shirt."
    "I don't know that we can pull that off for girls' night, but …" Missy curled her forefinger for C.J. to follow. At the end of the hall they stepped into another circular room, only this one was clearly meant to be the rich and famous's idea of sportswear. "White is usually the color of preference on a sailboat around here, but I find it tedious to launder." Missy held out a pair of khaki shorts and what C.J. could best describe as a matching glorified T-shirt with splotches of sea blue.
    "So far that's the only thing I've seen that I might actually wear again."
    "Miss Ivory loves this designer. She reminds me a lot of you."
    "Me?" What the hell could a former medic-turned-registered-nurse, raised in the Miami low-rent district, possibly have in common with Beth Ivory was beyond her.
    "You both have a subtle beauty that doesn't need all the trappings most of my clients rely on. I don't think I've ever seen Miss Ivory come in here wearing makeup or expensive jewelry. Seeing her on the streets, you'd never know she comes from one of the top ten richest families in the world."
    Top ten? All the saliva in C.J.'s mouth suddenly evaporated.
    "No one would know who her brother is."
    "Which brother?"
    Missy hesitated, her eyes darting around the room. C.J. got the impression she hadn't meant to say anything. "Nate."
    "I don't understand."
    "Well, you know." She glanced around again. "His nickname and all."
    C.J. raised a brow.
    "I'm sorry. I thought everyone knew."
    "I've been overseas a very long time. I don't hear much."
    Missy nodded and lowered her voice. "Naughty Nate. Until he hooked up with his fiancée, a day didn't go by that Nate Ivory didn't turn up on the cover of some rag magazine at the grocery store.”
    The only thing C.J. knew about Nate Ivory was that he was the general manager and part owner of the new Barefoot Bay minor league ball team and how the guy was clearly head over leather loafers in love with his bride-to-be. Nate’s conversation last night had circled mostly around preschool, Dylan's spelling prowess, and whether or not he should be attending a private school, with the occasional comment