Envy - 2 Read Online Free PDF Page B

for a while?” he finished for her, his hands slipping under her pale pink shirt and massaging her bare skin.
    Beth sighed, feeling her tension slip away. It sounded like a plan.

chapter
3

    “How about this?” Miranda crept out of the dressing room and timidly spun around to display the newest ensemble—bright red capri pants that looked like they’d been painted on, paired with a black lace corset whose tackiness quotient would have made Christina Aguilera cringe.
    Uh, no.
    Harper sighed. Three hours into the total transformation shopping trip (step one on the road to a new and improved Miranda, whatever that was supposed to mean) and she was bored out of her mind. Shopping in Grace was never the most thril ing of experiences since the options consisted of three or four sorry stores in a local excuse for a strip mal , a large thrift shop (useless, since the middle-aged Grace matrons who made up its pool of suppliers couldn’t real y be counted on to supply the type of “vintage” threads recommended in last month’s Vogue ), and, of course, the Wal-Mart out on Route 53 (the less said about that, the better).
    No, Harper preferred to buy most of her clothes online—and Harper’s parents preferred her not to buy clothes at al , as the meager profits from the family dry cleaning business rarely seemed to justify that kind of supposedly wasteful expenditure. Harper failed to see how a fur-lined J Crew raincoat or tan suede boots could be deemed wasteful—so what if the temperature never dipped below sixty degrees and it rained only eight inches a year? Sometimes fashion was its own excuse. Regardless, Harper had managed—just barely—to put together a wardrobe befitting her position in Haven High’s social strata. It didn’t mean that she wanted to spend a Sunday afternoon watching Miranda fork over daddy’s credit card in return for an armful of clothes she didn’t need and would never wear— especially when phase one of Operation Anti-Cupid was in ful effect and Adam was, even now, sitting home alone, ripe for the picking.
    But Harper was stil feeling nagging guilt about helping the love of Miranda’s life pursue someone else. So here she was, figuring the least she could do was save her ever faithful sidekick from making a serious fashion faux pas.
    After al , what are friends for?
    “Wel … I suppose Hal oween is coming up,” Harper final y said, and gave her a thumbs down.
    Miranda studied herself in the mirror from a number of angles before wrinkling her nose and sighing. “You’re right, as usual.” She disappeared back inside the dressing room.
    “Just a couple more things,” she cal ed out.
    Harper checked her watch and then leaned back against the wal , pressing her weight against it as she slumped to the floor. Was this going to drag on forever?
    “What about this?” Miranda asked, popping out of the dressing room, a hesitant smile creeping across her face. She had slipped into a snugly fitting suede skirt, paired with a gauzy green shirt that laced up the front, offering a glimpse of cleavage and leaving just enough to the imagination.
    It was stylish, edgy, slightly daring—it was, in other words, total y Harper.
    It looked okay on Miranda, Harper judged, but she could almost feel that suede wrapping around her legs and knew that shade of green would light her auburn hair on fire.
    Miranda had seen it first, true. And, more importantly, Miranda was the one with the credit card. She was also the one with the identity crisis, Harper reminded herself. Harper was just along for the ride—she was supposed to sit by and watch, do the loyal and supportive friend thing. But Harper wasn’t very good at being the sidekick—it was one of the reasons she and Miranda worked so wel together. Their friendship only had room for one star, and usual y Miranda was more than wil ing to let Harper bask in the spotlight while she waited in the wings.
    “It’s … it’s not real y you, Rand,” Harper