Huddle With Me Tonight Read Online Free PDF

happens to be a leg man,” she said.
    After a few seconds of trying to hold it in, Paige burst out laughing. Angela was five feet if she was an inch tall, and that was being generous.
    “Fine, it’s my personality,” Angela said.
    “Now that I’d believe.”
    “Uh-oh.” Angela pointed at the screen. “Looks like you got under somebody’s skin with that little review of yours.”
    Paige scooted her chair over so she could share the space in front of the computer with Angela. Posted under the name Torrian Smallwood was a response to her review of his book that left little of his feelings to the imagination.
    All I see here is yet another person trying to gain their fifteen minutes of fame by blasting someone who is a thousand times more popular than they are. Can you even read, Paige Turner? If you could, then you would plainly see that the stories of my childhood are meant to be funny. It’s a cookbook and autobiography, not a candidate for the Nobel Prize in Literature. Lighten up.
    “Ouch.” Paige forced herself to laugh, despite the sickening feeling swarming in her gut. The jab about her ability to read hit a little too close to home. And for some reason it hurt even more coming from Torrian. What happened to the charming guy who’d rescued her tomato in the produce section at Mancini’s?
    “Do you think it’s really him?” Paige asked.
    “New Yorkers are pretty bold, but I don’t know if anyone has the guts to impersonate Torrian Smallwood. I told you it was a risky review before you posted it,” Angela reminded her. “The man is a god in this city.”
    “Maybe on the football field, but that godliness doesn’t transfer to his writing. He’s putting out a mediocre book, so he received a mediocre review.”
    “He probably didn’t write a word of that book,” Angela surmised.
    “I doubt he did,” Paige agreed. “But he’s allowed it to be published under his name. Therefore, he got the bad review.”
    “Was the book that dreadful? I haven’t had a chance to read it.”
    Paige sat back in the chair and let out a sigh. “The memoir portion lacked originality to me. The writing was shoddy.” She shrugged.
    “And the recipes?”
    “Okay, honestly, the few recipes I tried came out pretty good.”
    “So what was the problem?”
    “The names he gave the recipes were hokey.”
    “Again, probably was not Torrian Smallwood to make that decision,” Angela said.
    “Again, his name is on it.” Paige emphasized her rejoinder with a flick of the pen she was holding.
    Angela conceded, giving Paige a nod and sitting back at her desk. “Well, the question now is, are you going to respond to him?”
    Paige leveled her with a sardonic lift of her eyebrows. “Uh, excuse me, but did you not read the part where that man questioned my ability to read?”
    Angela held up her hands as she pushed away from the desk. “I don’t want to get burned by the sparks.”
    “There will be no sparks,” Paige informed her. “For one thing, I refuse to sink to his level. But you’re right; I don’t want to run the risk of alienating any of his die-hard fans. I have my own following, but I’m not delusional enough to think it’s even close to the Sabers fanatics in this town.”
    “I don’t envy you here, Paige. Coming out negatively against someone as popular as Torrian Smallwood can blow up in your face, but I know it won’t stop you,” Angie said. She opened a desk drawer and withdrew her purse. “I’ll get us some coffee while you give him a piece of your mind.”
    “Make mine a double shot,” Paige called. She held her fingers poised over the keyboard, trying to think of a tactful, yet stern, reply to Torrian’s comment.
    “Let’s see,” she said, her bottom lip between her teeth. Even as Paige concocted a response, a part of her let out a mournful cry.
    She hadn’t left Mancini’s with illusions of falling into Torrian’s arms and living happily ever after, but it wasn’t totally out of