The World is a Stage Read Online Free PDF Page A

Samantha and Priscilla.
    He looked like the type of man who had no nasal septum and tucked used needles into his back pockets. And where, exactly, was Molly’s name supposed to fit? On his ass?
    “I’m Eric Peterson,” he said, nodding slightly, his voiced clipped but polite. “Molly’s told me so much about you.”
    A cold silence descended, and Rachel was happy to let it. She could stare a man into oblivion with her hands tied behind her back. She had, in fact, done just that, once upon a time. An ex-boyfriend thought a little bondage might “loosen her up” in the bedroom, and he’d pulled out all the stops with a pair of silk ties and his brass bedposts.
    It hadn’t worked. No amount of kink would have helped that man understand the basics of female anatomy. She could have sat there, tied up and on display for hours, while he perused a textbook. He still would have been unable to find her clitoris.
    “I think this is where you’re supposed to say ‘only good things, I hope,’ even though we all know you don’t mean it.” Michael whispered, full of drama and mischief. He was like an imp, except ginormous and seemingly incapable of complex thought. “And if I remember correctly, that’s when we all laugh and pretend we’re clever.”
    Rachel turned. “Why are you still here? In case I didn’t make myself clear, I’m not interested. You ruined our show, you look like an idiot in that skirt, and you smell like the floor of a bar. That’s three strikes and you are way, way out. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Molly and I have a cast party to attend.”
    “Eric’s riding with me, Rachel. You can come with us, if you want.”
    Rachel’s stomach clenched. Us. Her sister said it so casually, with so much pride.
    “Thanks, Molly, but I’ll pass,” she said, her jaw tight. “I’ll just meet you guys at Dominic’s.”
    There. She’d tried. She’d met the boyfriend and his genius of a friend—and they’d both confirmed the worst of her suspicions. Molly hadn’t learned anything, and she was letting down the walls way too soon.
    “There is one thing you should know before you go,” the Mule added, still pointing that asinine grin at her.
    It was only with supreme self-control that she was able to answer without shattering her teeth. “What?”
    “Everything I’ve heard about you has been good. Just in case you were wondering.”

Chapter Three
    The Old Bait and Switch
     
    Michael pulled up to the address Molly had given him for the cast party and did his best to feel cheerful about it. He’d been reduced to driving Peterson’s embarrassingly soccer-mom-like minivan, and was trying very hard to ignore the smell of what must have been years-old french fries wedged between the seats.
    Eric, as he was apparently known now, had chosen to ride with his sweet and quiet girlfriend, leaving Michael to make his own way to the producer’s place, a converted firehouse out in the middle of nowhere. If there was a fire pole still inside, he was definitely going to ask if he could slide down it. A man deserved his kicks, especially after a night like this one. It was only through a fierce loyalty to the bro code that he was willing to come at all.
    “I think I’ve done all I can do here, you two,” he’d said once Rachel made her grand exit, her zombie face halfway wiped off and her ass cheeks fully visible underneath her tiny flared skirt. It was an odd combination of features—one Michael’s poor, confused body had no idea how to handle.  
    He turned to Molly. “A man hates to admit defeat, and I’m sure your sister’s a perfectly doe-eyed peach most of the time, but I’m going to go out on a limb here and say I don’t think I’m her type.”
    “No—no!” Molly had instantly pleaded, her hands coming together around his. “She’s just overprotective sometimes. It takes her a little while to warm up, but I think she really liked you. Honest.”
    He’d laughed, thinking she was joking, but