The Good Girl's Guide to Bad Men Read Online Free PDF Page A

personally tested the fidelity of these women's husbands and fiancés. And no one in my life had any idea. My friends, my family, even random people I met on airplanes thought I sat in a cubicle for fourteen hours a day staring at thousands of rows of numbers on a screen. Which wasn't that much of a stretch since it was exactly what I did do prior to becoming a fidelity inspector.
    But after the whole website fiasco, which I found out was sponsored by a very disgruntled ex-husband of a former client, I eventually had to come clean. I told them everything. My friends, not my family. Can you imagine telling your mother that you almost sleep with married men for a living? I don't think so.
    Now that I run the agency and have five full-time associates hired to conduct the fidelity inspections for me, life has become a little easier. Although I still haven't told my family about it. They now think I run a domestic services agency that specializes in placing housekeepers, nannies, and private tutors with affluent Southern California families. Well, at least the "domestic services" part is somewhat true.
    After hanging up with Sophie, I immediately opened up the e-mail application on my iPhone and began frantically typing a message to my assistant to tell her that I was running late and could she please inform everyone. While I typed with one hand, my other hand was helping my right foot slide into my second shoe. Unfortunately, I wasn't as skillful at the shoe administering as I was at the typing, and by the time I secured the strap of the slingback around my heel, I had completely lost my balance.
    I reached out for something to break my fall, and my hand landed on skin. The soft skin of a well-formed upper arm.
    It was Jamie. My boyfriend.
    And he was standing just inside the doorway, his arm extended around my back as he effortlessly broke my fall. "Whoa there, Turbo. Multitasking again?" he asked with his usual irresistible smirk. Sometimes I wondered if he really loved me for me or just because I was entertaining to watch sometimes.
    Jamie and I had been together for over a year, and now we practically lived together. He still had his own place in Century City near his office, but he spent most of his time at my condo. I think he liked coming here to get away from the whole corporate landscape of Century City. He could literally see his firm's building from the window of his loft, and ever since he'd been promoted to partner a few months ago, he'd become more and more desperate for an escape at the end of the day. And trust me, never in a million years did I ever think I'd end up here. In a near-cohabitation situation with a member of the opposite sex.
    Before I met Jamie, love had never been in the agenda for me. I kind of always thought that I would just casually skip over that part of my life and continue on as though nothing had happened. You know how some people don't go to college or some people find dogs more fulfilling than children? Well, I was going to be the person who didn't fall in love.
    Honestly, I didn't see the point. And you can't exactly blame me for that. As a fidelity inspector, the only relationships I ever encountered were ones that were falling apart. And my parents weren't much good in the role model department, either. So it's pretty safe to say that Jamie came as a bit of a surprise. He wasn't exactly part of the game plan. I had always thought that I was immune to love and all that mushy relationship stuff. Blessed with the impenetrable antibodies that protected someone from falling head over heels, from trusting another human being wholeheartedly, from ever feeling vulnerable.
    But I guess those antibodies don't really exist. Or scientists just haven't managed to perfect them yet.
    So I caught the flu. I contracted the virus. The one that makes you start sentences with the word we and end them with the words isn't that right, honey? The one that makes you sick with anxiety when the phone doesn't