Drop Dead Gorgeous Read Online Free PDF

Laurence off on her far-from-reliable ex-roommate.
    Damn. It had nothing to do with jealousy. It was an affront to good manners, to his manhood even. He almost sighed. All right, he had to admit there was a part of him, a very small part, mind you, that loathed the idea that she lusted after a man she’d never met when Laurence himself had been standing in front of her for seven years. Though he’d always found her appealing—who in his right mind wouldn’t?—this wasn’t jealousy per se, just that she’d never seen him as a man who possessed attractive qualities beyond fun-loving and mysterious. He’d listened to her prattle, handed her a tissue when a relationship ended, done what a boss should do for a distressed employee. But this phone date was more than any self-respecting man could abide.
    â€œI’ll find ZZ Top,” she said again.
    It was what she should have done before opening her mouth about Lila. She closed the door with the softest of clicks. Very good idea. Before he humiliated himself by showing her he was a man and he wasn’t too old.
    He turned in his chair to stare out the window, all the while drumming his fingers on the armrests. What was happening here? He’d put a match to Harriet’s flame instead of dousing it. He’d become overly obsessed with Madison’s assets. He was jealous of a voice on the phone. That damn phone call.
    Or maybe it was hearing Madison declare twice in less than twenty-four hours that she only had a few days left to live.
    Laurence stilled, a cold spot spreading from his chest to his extremities. She was not going to die. The idea was ludicrous, but his heart beat erratically and sweat popped out on his brow. She was on a quest to live life to its fullest, but God only knew what trouble that could bring her. She might want to fall in love, but what she really needed was shielding, from Richard and from roommates who accidentally stole her credit cards.
    Madison needed saving from herself, at least until she turned twenty-eight and realized she wasn’t going to die.
    Â 
    Z ACH WOULD APOLOGIZE , just like T. Larry had told him to. He owed Harriet that. Not for the dress incident—he’d meant every one of those four words—but for the other thing he’d done to her, the thing they hadn’t talked about since that night all those months ago.
    Zachary Zenker slipped into the coffee room, got himself a soda and slipped back out. No one saw him, not Madison where she stood at the coffee machine making T. Larry a fresh pot and not Mr. Carp who’d nabbed T. Larry’s pot right out of Madison’s fingers. Sometimes Zach felt like little more than a ghost in their midst. He longed to be noticed, longed to be a part of them, longed to speak his mind the way everyone else did.
    As it was, he never got a word in edgewise.
    He’d tried to talk to Madison about his problem yesterday, but she’d been on the phone. With nothing more than his daily peanut butter cup for his efforts, he’d left like a dog with his tail between his legs, or worse, a wraith no one even knew was there.
    He hunkered down in his cubicle before the digital glare of his portable PC and comforted himself with his spreadsheets, his numbers and his accounts. They didn’t offer the usual solace. He kept remembering that T. Larry had never even looked up from the contract on his desk as he issued that apology instruction.
    Someday, somehow, he’d do something to make them notice him.
    Â 
    â€œY OUR TIRES ARE SLASHED .” Mid-afternoon, Harriet stood in Madison’s cubicle opening.
    â€œMy tires?”
    â€œOn your car. In the garage.” There was just enough venom in Harriet’s voice to make Madison wish she didn’t always have to look for the best in every person.
    â€œI forgot I drove today.” She’d driven her sporty little compact this morning because she was having dinner with