Damage Control Read Online Free PDF Page A

colors? From the way the shopping had been going so far, no matter what Lena picked they were going to look like they belonged either in a three-ring circus or on a Southern plantation. In the 1800s. Andrea rolled her eyes before she took off the offending shades and slipped them into her purse. She almost groaned when the light pouring in from the huge plate-glass windows hit her eyes full-force. This was going to be the most miserable day of her life.
    Lena was lucky she was family. Andrea wouldn’t waste an entire Saturday dealing with this kind of attitude from anyone else. Not even Brian.
    Brian. She let out a little sigh at the thought of the man who used to be her best friend. Now she didn’t know what to call him. Her heart ached at what had been left unsaid between them, and anxiety kicked up inside her at the idea of the discussion she’d told him they would have. If either of them thought they could slip right back into friendship after what they’d done, they had another think coming. It wouldn’t be that simple.
    Already she missed him, but she couldn’t face him every day, couldn’t confess any more dreams and secrets after she’d all but begged him to stay at her place. He’d wanted to leave. Had nearly bolted out the door. Instead of letting him go, she’d embarrassed herself by draping all over him and unbuttoning his shirt. Had she forced him into something he hadn’t wanted?
    The thought made her sick. This was all her fault. She was the one who’d lost her inhibitions. Though he hadn’t been very inhibited last night. He’d been incredible. Better than she’d known sex could be. Damn it, she wanted more. A lot more. Months and months of it.
    And there was her problem. She couldn’t want him for good. A steady relationship didn’t fit into her life plan. At least not yet. She had no intention of getting married for at least five years, probably closer to ten. At twenty-eight, she still had plenty of time before she needed to think about settling down. The infamous ticking biological clock wasn’t something she’d ever really worried about. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to have kids in the first place.
    Claire cleared her throat, dragging Andrea out of her uncomfortable thoughts. “What’s going on? Something is bugging you. It isn’t like you to drink. I think the last time you had a hangover was in high school, after Tony Callahan’s party. Remember, the one when his parents were out of town?”
    Andrea groaned with the memory. That night, after spending hours worshipping the porcelain god, she’d sworn to herself she’d never get drunk again. Until last night, she’d stuck by that promise. But work had been miserable this past week and Brian had been trying to help her relax by offering to take her out to dinner. She should have said no to the first bottle of wine, let alone the second, but she’d been so wrapped up in the conversation that she hadn’t realized how hard the alcohol had hit her until they were in the cab back to her apartment. “Don’t remind me.”
    â€œSo what happened?”
    Lena stomped her foot on the ground again, this time hard enough to shake the trinkets lining the shelves above the windows. She dropped the dresses onto a nearby chair. “Excuse me. This day is not about Andrea and her lapse in judgment. It’s all. About. Me. You know, the bride? Since you both say I have terrible taste in dresses, I won’t even ask you anymore to pretend you like what I’ve chosen. You two look at these and decide which ones you can live with. I’m going in search of some more. Be ready to start trying things on, though. I need to see what they look like on an actual person before I make any firm decisions.”
    Mini-tirade finished for the moment, she swept her hair over her shoulder, spun on her heel and marched away.
    Once she was out of