The Supermodel's Best Friend (A Romantic Comedy) Read Online Free PDF

once she marries Huntley, she’s set for
life. Whether she sticks with him or not.”
    Ronnie leaned back in the old desk chair,
arched his back, scratched his generous belly. “Not too romantic,
are you buddy? That blonde did a real number on you.”
    “She did me a favor.” Miles hung up his
armored suit and slapped Ronnie on the shoulder. “I’m going to see
if I can do the same for my best friend.”
    “Turn him into a bitter old man?”
    “Takes one to know one,” Miles retorted. He
looked out the glass wall of the office into the lounge where
Huntley stood, hands on his hips, grinning at him and waiting for
retribution. Blond, glossy, and expensive, he looked like a male
version of Paris Hilton—not a comparison Huntley relished, but it
was made so often he had to put up with it.
    He was a numbnuts, but Miles loved him. “I’m
going to open his eyes before it’s too late.”
    Ronnie swung back to his computer. “Well,
keep me out of it. And clean up when the party’s over.”
    The old grouch worked for him, but Miles
said, “Yes, boss,” and sauntered out to Huntley. “You looking for
trouble, little man?”
    Huntley whipped a ping-pong ball at him and
ran back into the gym. Miles waited two seconds before he grabbed a
basketball and strode after him.
    But just as he stepped into the gym, another
ball nailed him in the forehead. Miles froze, weighed the heavy
basketball in his palm. “You are dead meat, rich boy.”
    Huntley hooted and ran down the court. “Just
try and catch me.” He jogged in place and gave him come-hither
motions with his fingers.
    Miles sighed, bounced the basketball on the
ground, regarded the ceiling. “Does your girlfriend know you’re a
total dipshit?”
    “Not yet. That’s why I have to marry her
before she catches on.” He pitched another ping-pong ball and Miles
ducked, wishing he hadn’t bought them in bulk the week before. He
strode toward his friend and dribbled the ball like a
sledgehammer.
    Eyes dancing, Huntley dropped into a
defensive stance. “Hey, I love it when you wear green. You look
like the Jolly Green Giant.”
    “Ho ho ho.” Miles lurched forward with the
ball as though he was going to attack, then drew back at the last
second. Huntley flinched and drew up his hands to his face. Miles
grinned, faked him out again. “What’s the matter, little fella?
Afraid I’m going to kick your ass ?” He lunged forward, only
inches away, but this time Huntley held himself still. So instead
of pulling back, Miles bopped him on the head with the ball and
laughed at Huntley’s shocked expression.
    Unfortunately, Huntley had a black belt in
judo. He deftly grabbed handfuls of Miles’s green sweatshirt and
threw him down to the ground.
    As pain shot through Miles’s hip, he thought
he heard one of his shoulders dislocate.
    He stared at the metal pipes and exposed
ducts of the gym ceiling and wondered when Huntley would outgrow
this annoying compulsion of his to knock him over. It was hardly
reasonable, considering how often Miles had protected him when they
were growing up. Miles guessed it was like therapy to be able to
bring down the biggest guy around after having the shit knocked out
of you so often as a kid.
    Huntley’s face came into view, grinning down
at him. “Timber!”
    “One of these days I’ll actually fight
back.”
    “You’re getting old, big guy.” He squatted
down, lifted Miles’s sweatshirt, and poked him in the stomach. “And
look at this flab! Soft in the middle.”
    Miles slapped his hand away and growled,
“Watch it, Huntley.”
    He tsked, jumped out of reach, and pulled his
T-shirt up. “Check this out.” He slapped his abdomen. “Fuck
six-packs. I’ve got a goddamn case.”
    “I’m sure the other boys love to look at you,
honey.” Miles got up to his feet. “The rest of us work for a
living.”
    “Excuses, excuses. I’ve been working for
years. I have a desk and everything.”
    “How’s it going, working for