Girl Trouble Read Online Free PDF Page A

an old friend of mine. Bonita Pritchard, meet Herb Benson, my manager.”
    Herb raised his eyebrows. “Old friend, huh? Having a pajama party?”
    “Something like that.”
    “We need to talk about this, Kat.”
    “My pajama party?”
    “No, your public threesomes. You’re getting out of hand.”
    “Herb, I told you. That’s not me in the picture.”
    “I don’t believe you.”
    Bonita picked up the magazine. Her lack of expression spoke volumes.
    Herb pointed a finger at Bonita. “She doesn’t believe you, either. Neither will anyone else with eyes in their heads. What you do in private is your business. What you do in public becomes our business. Use your head. Haven’t you ever heard of a camera phone? Every person on the planet has one.”
    She sat still, sandwich ignored, eyes on Herb as he stuffed a piece of lunch meat into his mouth and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. The diamonds on his watch gleamed in the light.
    “Jesus, I used to think you were smart,” he said with his mouth full.
    “Herb, you’re starting to piss me off,” she warned.
    “Good. Maybe then you’ll behave.” Another piece of capicola disappeared between his slippery lips. “We need to find somebody good to take you to the Pics and Pans ceremony this weekend.”
    “I’m taking Bonita.” She had been planning to go alone, but the words flew out of her mouth.
    He choked and coughed harshly. “The hell you are!” he said when he could speak.
    “Watch me. People take their mothers, their brothers. I’m taking my best friend.”
    He glared at her. “You need to take someone who will clean up your image a little, not throw more shit on the ceiling fan.”
    “Herb, I appreciate your advice, but I’m really fucking tired of listening to you tell me what I can’t do. Earn your paycheck for once and figure out how to spin it. I’m taking Bonita.” Kat took a huge bite of her sandwich.
    “Paycheck? I might as well cut my losses now. The buzz on Proprietors sucks. Once this ménage pic breaks, you won’t be getting any offers. I won’t be making a dime off of you.”
    “You want to exercise your option, Herb? Not a problem. I’ll have another manager before you even clear the kitchen. If I want one, that is. I’ve been thinking about directing lately. I don’t need a manager for that.”
    “Ha! That’s a good one. Being a bossy bitch doesn’t mean you’ll be a good director.” Kat saw Bonita’s eyes snap open. She placed a restraining hand on Bonita’s shoulder and held her in her chair while she put her sandwich in front of her.
    “Down girl. Eat. Herb’s an asshole, but he’s got a point. He is good at his job.”
    “Really?” Bonita looked surprised. The diamonds and polyester fooled most people. Herb had no taste whatsoever, but he’d been in the business for a long time.
    “Sure. I’m famous, aren’t I? Herb, listen up. That’s not me in the picture, and I’m taking Bonita to the Pics and Pans. Figure it out. Now beat it—you aren’t invited to our pajama party.”
    Herb pushed away from the table, leaving wide, greasy fingerprints on the wood.
    “How can you tell when an actress is lying?” he asked Bonita.
    “I don’t know,” she answered.
    “Her lips are moving.” He snatched a last piece of ham as Kat shoved him toward the kitchen door.
    Bonita was studying the newspaper photo again when she returned to the kitchen.
    “How did you know it was me?” Kat asked, curious.
    Bonita raised one eyebrow. “I can recognize you by any square inch on your body, and there’s a lot of it showing in that picture.”
    Kat began piling meat, pickles, peppers, mayo, mustard and coleslaw haphazardly back into the fridge. “You weren’t exactly celibate either.”
    “I’m not judging you.”
    “But you’ve got this look on your face.” She made a pinched, cross-eyed face. “You look like you’re eating Lemonheads.”
    “Well, you put half a jar of mustard on my sandwich,” Bonita