You Before Anyone Else Read Online Free PDF Page B

shift. “Maybe you tone it down a little, give me something in between?”
    Feeling my blood slowly boil, I take a deep breath and let the loathed words slide right over me.
    â€œHow close are we with that necklace and bag?”
    The stylist runs over with a whole mess of pocketbooks and necklace choices, her assistant in tow carting even more options. She whizzes through six different bags and necklaces before settling on the one that will magically turn me into the rebel everyone needs me to be.
    As I move from pose to pose, my confidence finally rises. I watch Alonzo for a reaction. For verification.
    â€œBetter, Finley,” he says after a few minutes.
    A wave of relief washes over me. Finally. Something is going right. Or better, at least.
    â€œOkay, let’s get Finley changed,” Alonzo shouts after a good forty minutes of shooting in outfit number one. “And can I get a shot list? I’m only the photographer, for fuck’s sake.”
    The producer runs over with his sheet, and I overhear him say, “Second model just arrived. Eliza has Eddie in makeup. He’ll be ready in two.”
    The photographer and producer continue their fervent conversation, but I don’t hear any of it. Not after the name Eddie was dropped.
    Of course. This is so freakin’ typical.

CHAPTER 8
    Eddie
    â€œWhoa! Be careful with that, dude.” I lean back as far as I can in the chair, blinking rapidly while the makeup brush keeps coming at me. This is worse than the dentist. Not to mention my sixties British rock and roll outfit. How do they expect guys to wear pants this tight? You can see the outline of my junk. My mom will have an instant heart attack if she sees this. She won’t, right?
    The makeup guy sighs for, like, the tenth time and shakes his head. “This isn’t a painful process, darling.”
    Yes, it totally is. “Sorry,” I mumble. My gaze drifts sideways, and I catch a glimpse of a blond with her hair standing straight up in the air. Even through the dress, the shape of her body is familiar. Suddenly, she snaps around, a glare already planted on her face.
    Finley.
    She stomps toward me, glancing around to see if anyone’s watching. “What the hell are you doing here?”
    â€œWearing makeup, apparently.” She really did seem sweet last night.
    â€œRight. You’re wearing makeup. At the same Marc Jacobs shoot as me.” She shakes her head. “A whole apartment full of guys, and this is the one I hook up with.”
    A mixture of hurt and amusement hits me at once, and I’m not sure which one to give more attention too. Why does it even matter? Last night wasn’t about today. It was about last night. As it should be. I needed that.
    Finley’s glare dissolves, and her expression shifts to reflect guilt. “I didn’t mean—”
    â€œIt’s fine.” I shove a pointy pencil out of my face, pissing off the makeup guy even more. “You’re allowed to feel overwhelmed.” I flash a grin. “I can have that effect on women.”
    She rolls her eyes but looks calmer than a minute ago. “Sorry, it’s not really about you. I just tend to fail at anything impulsive.”
    Finally, Eliza says, “I’ve had enough, manservant. If you need something from me, I’ll be on the couch.” He storms away. For good, I hope.
    I turn to Finley. “Trust me, you did not fail at the important stuff.”
    â€œYeah?” Her cheeks turn a brighter shade of pink, but she nods, looking pleased, and turns around. “It was pretty fun.”
    I watch her walk away behind a curtain. Her dress falls to the floor, exposing her bare shoulders. I shift in my chair and command myself to look away, but I can’t. The makeup assistant turns his gaze and follows mine, then looks back at me, cocking an eyebrow. I shift my attention forward and shrug. “What?”
    â€œNothing.”
    Emmy