Sisters in Love (Snow Sisters, Book One: Love in Bloom Series #1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

Unfortunately, when they did get together, Danica still
felt pressure to be the smart, responsible daughter, fielding her
mother’s questions about the potential husbands and grandchildren
she so desired; the pressure never seemed to let up, making the
prospect of visiting more often even less appealing.
    She glanced at her work outfits, suits and
professional dresses, and immediately nixed them. “Cleavage,
cleavage,” she whispered. She eyed the safe section of her closet.
The safe section held the dresses and skirts that fit her no matter
how thin or heavy she was and hid her muffin top well. She pulled a
dark green, thigh-length dress from the safe section and held it
against her towel, looking in the floor-length mirror. Cleavage,
check . It had a nice wrap style that helped add a waist to her
no longer slim figure. Camouflage .
    With a coy smile, she snagged the only pair
of Jimmy Choo heels she owned—her calf-hugging, black leather,
fuck-me boots with four-inch heels. The ones Kaylie had bought for
her in an attempt to bring Danica over to the sexy side. She ran
her finger over the stiletto heel and dropped her eyes to row after
row of low-heeled, comfortable shoes. Granny shoes. Hmph .
Maybe she had gone too far in the other direction, unsexing herself
to distinguish herself from her clients. Danica pondered the
thought as she went to lotion up her olive skin.
    With her skin moisturized, her dress hiding
her extra baggage, and a simple gold necklace, she surveyed herself
in the mirror. Her boobs and hips looked in proportion. God,
this dress does work miracles . Her hair was a mass of fuzz,
with no way to tame it in sight. There was nothing she could do
about that; she was born with hair like her father’s, but on
steroids. Her father’s hair was coarse, like hers, with tight,
little, perfectly formed curls. The kink and curls of her thick,
dark hair were so different from her sister’s and mother’s
straight, blond hair that she always felt a bit like an alien in
her own family. But she couldn’t go there now. Kaylie was waiting
for her.
    She grabbed her stiletto boots and reached
for the light switch, eyeing the perfume and licorice on the
bedside table. She hadn’t had licorice for months, not since John.
Boy was he ever a mistake. When they’d first begun dating, he’d
been the perfect mix of a professional businessman and a
spontaneous boyfriend. He’d taught Danica to loosen up, have fun,
and even take a break from her nightly review of her clients’
files. But four months into the relationship, he’d lost his job and
seemed unable—or maybe unwilling—to stand on his own two feet.
Danica found herself filling the role of therapist. Two months
later, she’d finally extricated herself from the relationship and
had quickly fallen back into her safe, careful ways. What had she
been thinking? Licorice was her after-sex go-to food. She’d had a
lot of licorice with John; at least the sex had been good, she
mused.  She threw the unopened bag of candy into her
nightstand drawer and sprayed a quick spritz of Juicy Couture, a
birthday gift from Kaylie when she was in her we’re-gonna-get-you-a-man stage. That hadn’t gone over very
well. Danica had spent their evenings out looking over her shoulder
for her clients instead of loosening up. Now she wondered if she’d
given herself a fair shot at a social life. One wrong man and her
profession did not necessarily have to drive her to the lonely life
of an old maid at twenty-nine. Before she knew it, she’d have a
house full of cats and be one of those old ladies. The
thought gave her pause. Maybe tonight she really would let herself
have a little fun.
    She inhaled, smiling with satisfaction at her
image in the mirror, and headed for Bar None.
     
    Kaylie grabbed Danica’s hand as soon as she
walked through the door and pulled her across the hardwood floor
toward the bar, where the girls had gathered. It took all of
Danica’s attention to remain