Beautiful You Read Online Free PDF

perfectly, hugging her young body. Her new Prada shoes, another last-minute splurge, also looked amazing. But Penny was sensible enough to realize that she’d never be a ravishing beauty.
    At least there were no dirty houseflies buzzing around her. That was an improvement. Anything was an improvement over living in the Midwest.
    Nebraska had never been a good fit for Penny. As a young woman in Omaha, or even when she was a small girl growing up in Shippee, Penny had always felt like an outsider. For one thing, she’d looked nothing like her sturdy, pear-shaped, splayfooted mom and dad. Where they were densely freckled and ginger-haired members of the Irish Diaspora, Penny had a peaches-and-cream complexion. As pale as birch bark. They’d both thought she was crazy for kiting off to New York City.
    Moments before, when she’d first climbed into the cab, she’d called Omaha to spill the big news. When her mother’s voice had answered, Penny had asked, “Are you sitting down, Mom?”
    “Arthur!” her mother had shouted away from the receiver. “Your daughter’s on the line.”
    “I’ve got some pretty exciting news,” Penny had said, barely able to contain herself. She looked to see whether the driver was watching her. She wanted him to eavesdrop.
    “So do I!” her mother had exclaimed.
    There was a click, and her father’s voice had joined the conversation. “Your mother grew a tomato that’s the spitting image of Danny Thomas.”
    “I’ll send you a picture,” her mother had promised. “It’s uncanny.”
    Her father said, “What’s your big news, cupcake?”
    Penny had hesitated for effect. When she’d spoken, she’d made sure her voice was loud enough for the cabbie to overhear. “I have a date with C. Linus Maxwell.”
    Her parents hadn’t responded, not right away.
    To save time, Penny’s dad drank his morning coffee while sitting on the toilet. Her mom dreamed of owning a waterbed. Every birthday they sent her a Bible with a twenty-dollar bill tucked inside. That was her parents in a nutshell.
    Penny had prompted them, asking, “Do you know who Mr. Maxwell is?”
    “Of course we do, sweetheart,” her mother had replied flatly. “Your father and I don’t live in Shippee anymore!”
    Penny had waited for their shouts of joy. For their gasps of disbelief. For anything.
    Finally, her father had said, “We love you no matter what, Pen-Pen. You don’t have to invent wild stories to impress us.” He was calling her a liar.
    It was at that point the cab had gone under the river. The connection was broken. Her roommates hadn’t believed her either, but they’d fussed over her, helping with her eye shadow and lip liner as if they’d been bridesmaids. Tomorrow they’d all believe her. Normally she’d never take such pains with her appearance. She hadn’t primped just because Maxwell would see her. Tonight the whole world was watching. Penny would walk into that restaurant a complete nobody, but by the time dessert was served she’d be a household name. Even her hero, President Hind, would know Penny’s name.
    Stalled in the traffic beside her, Penny noticed two men seated in a black sedan. Like the bodyguards who had escorted Alouette D’Ambrosia, both wore tailored, navy-blue suits and mirrored sunglasses. Their stern, chiseled features betrayed no emotion. Neither turned his head in Penny’s direction, but she knew from long experience that the pair of them were covertly watching her.
    From her earliest memories, she’d been aware of similar strange men following her. Sometimes they’d trailed behind her in slowly moving cars or sat parked at the curb outside her grade school. Other times, they’d strolled purposefully in her wake, always at a discreet distance. There were always two, sometimes three men, each dressed in a plain dark suit and wearing mirrored sunglasses.Their hair was clipped short and neatly combed. Their wingtip shoes were highly polished, even as they’d