Venice Nights Read Online Free PDF Page B

that I was different from anyone he had ever dated before and once the novelty wore off, he would drop me like a bad habit.
    Shockingly, she’d spared me the drawn-out diss, condensing it to two sentences:
    Found this and thought it was pretty spot-on. I didn’t have to lift a single finger to destroy you...you did a fantastic job all by yourself.
    Below that, there was a link. When I saw the URL of a popular gossip blog, my heart dropped to my stomach. My hand trembled as I clicked the link, knowing it had to be bad, or Rachel wouldn’t bother.
    I gasped when the page loaded. My picture screeched from the screen, stricken with fear and anger. My brown eyes were double their normal size, wide and crazed. My hair looked like I had just been doused with static electricity, chocolate brown curls standing at  end.
    My mouth...oh God, my mouth .
    My lips were spread in an open cry, strings of saliva glittering from my teeth to my bottom lip. I looked deranged. The picture could easily terrify small children.
    But the terrible picture was not what made me feel nauseous.
    The headline read, “First Look: Jacob Whitmore’s New Squeeze is...”
    “Oh no,” I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut.
    I had seen stories like this before. The blog author solicited input and their readers were more than willing to oblige. They filled in the blanks, tearing into whatever poor soul was featured. I was embarrassed to admit I’d scanned the comments, chuckling at some and shaking my head at others. People could be cruel, but it was always in good fun, right?
    Don’t read it. Don’t read it. Don’t read it!
    But I’d already found the comments section.
    -The ugliest thing I’ve ever seen.
    -Terrifying!
    -After his money, obvs.
    -Probably really good on her knees. Why else would he be with her?
    It wasn’t so amusing when my face was on the dart board.

Chapter Five
    Grinning and bearing it was going to be the death of me.
    The taxi pulled to a stop, engine still running. My nails cut into my thighs, a futile attempt at calming my nerves. It just magnified the tremors, making my teeth chatter.
    Jacob leaned forward, murmuring to the driver. My Italian was spotty, and I did not understand their exchange, but when Jacob reached for the door, the meaning came through loud and clear. There would be no more putting it off; no stay of execution. I would actually have to get out of the car and pretend I did not want to hole up in the villa until the world moved onto the next celebrity scandal. I had to sell the lie I had been telling Jacob, and myself: That I was okay.
    “Ready?” he asked, blue eyes flashing over to me.
    I cleared my face of all signs that I was not remotely prepared and gave him an awkward nod. It helped that my oversized shades shielded my eyes from his view. I glanced at my reflection in the window. My curly hair was tucked under a silk scarf, and the collar of my trench coat was popped.
    It was painfully ironic that I always smirked at celebrities in disguises; XXL shades and hoodies, trying to be incognito. Loss of anonymity was the price paid of a life in the public eye—but now that photographers camped at Jacob’s property line, eager to find out more about his dumpy, possibly disturbed girlfriend, I saw why celebrities went bat shit on the paparazzi. I had retreated into the house like a recluse, stealing peeks between the blinds and jumping at every creak and sound.
    Jacob had work that prevented him from seeing me at my craziest, but when he asked me to join him for a meal in the city, I had almost broken down. Before he personally ended every person outside with a camera in their hands, I had told him I was fine. Pulled my lips into a smile and said a day in the city was exactly what I needed.
    I stepped out of the car, my legs still liquid with fear. I debated hopping back in and telling the driver to make a getaway while we still could. One look at Jacob and I felt guilty for entertaining the