The Jock Read Online Free PDF

unladylike snort reminiscent of the exasperated sound Elvis would have
made if asked by a reporter whether peanut butter really did go well with
bananas in a sandwich. "Of course she and Tom Vantry will ask you back,
sugar. How can you doubt it?"
    Gwenyth
shrugged her shoulders, though Verlene couldn't see that over the telephone
connection. "I guess I'm just nervous, Grandmama. This is my first really
big account as a solo artist for Jones & Jones . Most of the
big names want you to do the majority of the work."
    "That's
only because they aren't aware of your talents until they see for themselves
how voluptuous you can make all their gangly, rail-thin models look."
Verlene chuckled. "You even made that AAA cup model Vendetta look like
Jane Mansfield for the 'Kiss Me' lingerie line last fall."
    Gwenyth
grimaced at the memory. That task had been no small feat. Like most fashion
models, Vendetta had been shaped like a twelve-year-old boy, not like the
thirty-something year old women the "Kiss Me" line had been hawking
their underwear to. But somehow Gwenyth had given Vendetta breasts. And hips.
And curves. Hell, the ads were so good she'd even bought a few pairs of the
tacky scraps of silk and lace for her own use. Remembering as much, she shifted
on the chair again, angling her butt in such a way that made it easier to pull
the wedgie out from between her rear bumper cheeks. "Well Grandmama, perhaps
you're right."
    "Of
course I am, sugar."
    Gwenyth's
name was finally starting to get noticed. She was at long last jumping
out from behind Verlene Jones' formidable shadow and casting one of her own.
Some assignments, like the "Kiss Me" line were real tough, but
sometimes they weren't too bad. Such was the case in her current assignment.
Luckily, Epiphany—the model she was working the most with for the Vantry's new
line—was slightly better endowed than Vendetta. Epiphany was a full A cup. And
if she sat just so, she even had a curve or two.
    "I
appreciate your confidence in me, Grandmama." Gwenyth glanced at her watch
and sighed. "But I better go. I'm supposed to meet up with Candy at
Sherry's Place in an hour."
    "What's
Candy doing in Los Angeles?"
    Gwenyth
groaned. "Don't ask. Let's just say that her stint as a tabloid journalist
ended the day after it began. She claims it's too dangerous." Gwenyth
chuckled. The affection she harbored for her closest friend was an apparent
one. "Candy's decided to write again—for now. But in the mean time, she's auditioning
for a part in that new soap opera, Nights of Ecstasy ."
    "An
actress now, eh?"
    "Something
like that."
    Gwenyth's
reflecting over the telephone conversation she'd had with Verlene came to an
abrupt halt when she spied Candy enthusiastically waving at her through the
plain, undecorated windows of Sherry's Place. Gwenyth smiled back. Good, she
thought. No more standing in line. Her best friend had already acquired them a
table.
    A
few minutes later, after assuring Candy repeatedly that her eye looked a lot
worse than it felt, Gwenyth accepted her drink from the waiter, then proceeded
to gulp down a huge portion of her iced tea. She hadn't realized she was so
thirsty until Jon had set the glass in front of her. She absently noted that
Liz wasn't working today, but said nothing of it. The staff here tended toward
the melodramatic. If she asked Jon about Liz, he'd only assume that she found
his service somehow faulty.
    "Slow
down already, Gwen, or you'll have to pee before our burgers get here."
Candy blew out a bubble as she watched Gwenyth chug down her drink. She smiled
bemusedly as she continued to crack away at the gum. "I can't say for
certain, but I really think I did a good job at the reading today."
    Gwenyth
set her glass down and grinned back at Candy. "Yeah? That's so cool, Can.
I hope you get it."
    Candy
let out a dramatic breath of air as she ran her fingers tersely through her
shiny black hair. "I just don't know if I want it," she mumbled.
    Gwenyth
raised a