The Wrong Girl Read Online Free PDF Page A

jeans that were full-stopped with navy trainers. The man slammed the car door closed and spun around. He was
astonishing.
Tall, with dirty-blond hair with a slight curl, olive skin, three-day stubble and a body that would definitely list the gym as a close friend. He noticed Lily staring at him and frowned, as if
she
had done something wrong. Then he walked off to the lifts, leaving Lily to fume at this rude, beautiful bandit.
    She reversed and did another few laps, settling for a reserved park one floor up, empty because none of the execs were in this soon after new year’s. She couldn’t stop thinking about the guy who had stolen her spot; who was he and why was he parking down with the commoners? He looked like he should be presenting the evening sport segment, or selling luxury yachts. Actually, yeah, he’d definitely be in sales, she thought. Gross. If there was one thing worse than a guy in a tarted up ute who stole your car spot, it was the fact that he was a salesman too.
    Lily’s desk, she was disappointed to discover, was as messy as she’d left it, press releases and a pile of cookbooks balancing precariously over her keyboard. She’d secretly hoped the cleaners would tidy her pigpen over Christmas, but unless you put something actually IN the bin, not next to it, not leaning against it, they didn’t take it. She sighed and slung her bag over her chair. Another year of Leftovers You’ll Love and Fast Feeds and stovetop burns and washing burned debris off pans. Was she up to it? She’d get there. The first week back always sucked, but she loved her job overall. Plus, she’d worked too hard and for too long at
The Daily
to simply up and find work elsewhere.
    â€˜Any ants? They’re having a fucking field day on mine,’ a voice from behind said. Lily spun around to see a flame of red-pink hair and a wide smile standing behind her.
    â€˜Al, you’ve gone all gingersnap!’ She hugged her friend tightly and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
    Alice worked on the home decor and renovations segment and was irresistibly dysfunctional; how she managed to hold down her job, let alone remember to shower and eat each day, baffled Lily. Despite her corrosive persona, a hangover from years of masterful work as a high school Emo, Alice dressed like a preschooler and was the office darling. Lily often wished she could be more like Alice, who was seemingly unfazed by other people’s moods or attitudes or demands. She just got on with things; other people’s shit was nothing to do with her, she said. It was an inspiring attitude and, as Lily had discovered, impossible to fake. Plus, Alice was twenty-five, and why wouldn’t you be that carefree at twenty-five? Lily had been.
    â€˜Did it last night, saw the box at the chemist and thought, fuck it. Plus, I’m really into sunsets at the moment, and this kind of looks like one, don’t you think?’
    â€˜You could wear any hair colour and it would look good.’ It was true, Alice’s peaches-and-cream skin and enormous, dark-brown doe eyes meant she was impervious to the usual rules about colour complementing and clashing. But mostly, she didn’t care what other people thought, and
that
was why it worked.
    â€˜How was camping?’
    â€˜
Awesome.
Jules and I borrowed The Pest from her cousin, this horrible old mobile home from the ’70s, and we did this huge road trip, and met these mental German B-packers and had the full summer kombi van experience. Did a lot of acid. Didn’t really mean to, but on the first night Derek kissed me over dinner and slipped a tab into my mouth and it went from there, really.’
    â€˜That sounds a
little
bit like he drugged you, Al.’
    â€˜I don’t know how I’m going to handle this prison after all that fun . . .’ Alice spoke as though she were a bank teller who was glued to her stool all day, when in fact she was rarely at