Fifty Shades of Thrifty (a Parody) Read Online Free PDF

contacts, we need shoes and
an entire new wardrobe."
    "Excuse
me?" I said.
    "I'm
starting a pile for Goodwill," yelled Ariel, still in my closet.
"Jesus, it looks like Hillary Clinton lives in here."
    I saw one of my
favorite pantsuits fly out of the closet. "Hey!"
    "Shaddup and
take your medicine," said Roxanne. "Meanwhile, put your hair back
up."
    "I thought
you said men like it down?"
    "They do,
but I'll need half a day to fix that mess and our dinner reservations are in an
hour."
    I stepped off the
stool. "So, I'm deemed okay to be
seen in public with you guys this evening? I won't embarrass you?"
    Serena got off
the floor and gave me the once over. "It will have to do, but we are going to change one thing tonight."
    "What's
that?" I asked, folding my arms. "I've apparently got no shoes, no
clothes, my hair is a toxic waste dump and I can't ditch my glasses or I'll end
up going home with someone who looks like Alan Greenspan."
    "That, right
there. Your attitude," said Serena. "Tonight, charm school
begins."
     
    CHAPTER THREE
    He locked his
eyes on me like a laser from across the room. Tall, well built, thick black
hair and dark eyes to match. Rugged face, nice smile, dimples running the
length of his cheeks. Probably about my age. Dark slacks, starched white French
cuffed shirt with gold links, red tie with a perfect dimple in the knot. Shoes
shining like mirrors, something my late father always told me to notice. Looks
like he stepped off a wedding cake.
    Another
"total package" as Ariel would say. Can't say I'd argue.
    He started
weaving his way through the bar traffic and headed for the chair next to me
that was left purposely empty by my friends.
    "Remember
what we talked about, Wing Girl," said Serena.
    I nodded, downed
a bit of wine, and smiled as he reached the table.
    He placed his
hands on the back of the empty chair, obviously waiting for permission to sit. Good.
Polite. Looked right at me. Big smile . "You're the girl on TV."
    " Woman on TV," I said. Serena jabbed an elbow into my
ribs. "Ow."
    "Right,"
he said. "You did that great story the other night on the State Senator.
Nice that we have people like you to keep politicians honest."
    "They're all
a bunch of scum. Next week—" I was interrupted by another elbow.
"I mean, thank you, I appreciate the compliment."
    Ariel reached one
long leg under the table and pushed the empty chair out a bit. "Maybe our
new friend would like to join us."
    "Uh,
right," I said.
    "Thanks,"
he said, sitting down. "I'm Vincent Martino."
    "Belinda
Carson," I said.
    "Yeah, I
know." Serena, Ariel and Roxanne introduced themselves since I'd forgotten
to do it, my mind too busy going over the directives they'd given me.
    Serena widened
her eyes as she looked at me and gave me a gentle kick under the table. Say
something. Anything. "So, uh... I'm
sorry, what did you say your name was?"
    The guy smiled.
"That's okay. Vincent." Roxanne rolled her eyes then threw down the
rest of her drink.
    "Right,
Vincent." I remembered the orders I'd been given. Ask him about
himself. Nothing too serious. "So,
Vincent... are you married?"
    " Madonne ," said Roxanne, as the man's face tightened.
    "No,"
said Vincent, who looked at me as if I were a space alien. "Did you think
I'm some married guy out cheating on his wife?"
    "Uh, no, I
was... you know.... just making conversation."
    Serena snorted,
stifling a laugh.
    "That's one
hell of a pick up line," he said.
    "Sorry."
My pulse spiked as the checklist in my head got jumbled. My armpits grew damp.
"Do you... uh... what do you do?" I smiled and exhaled. That was
pretty safe.
    "I'm work on
Wall Street."
    "So, you
work with some shady characters."
    The man shook his
head and turned toward Roxanne. "Jesus, Rox."
    I furrowed my
brow. "What's going on?"
    "Vincent's
my cousin," said Roxanne, cocking her head toward him. "I asked him
to be our test subject tonight."
    "So you
weren't really going to hit on me?" I asked.
    "I did hit on you. At least I was trying