Bad Boy vs Millionaire by Candy J Starr

Author:Candy J Starr [Starr, Candy J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Women's Fiction, Contemporary Women, Romance, Contemporary, New Adult & College, Contemporary Fiction, Romantic Comedy
Amazon: B00J83LEVO
Published: 2014-03-24T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19. Hannah

I couldn’t believe it when I got Jasmine’s text inviting me out for drinks. The last time I’d heard from her had been a few months ago. We’d been planning a girls’ weekend away and trying to work out which luxury resort would have the best cocktails. That had been a few days before Dad went missing.

Then suddenly, when I tried to call her, her phone rang out and she hadn’t returned my messages. I wasn’t thick. I got the hint pretty fast. But still, I’d had nowhere to live and she’d been one of my closest friends throughout school. I’d thought she might have helped me out, maybe given me somewhere to stay for a while.

I accepted the invitation, of course. If it went well, I’d be invited to house parties and on weekend trips away and all those other things I’d missed out on. My mind raced with the sparkling conversation and even more sparkling wines I’d be able to enjoy. It’d be so nice to be with people who shared common interests instead of music shit and obscure bands I knew nothing about. They were my people and we talked the same language.

I’d be back, better than ever.

Plus, you never burn bridges, especially when those bridges lead to influential families that might come in handy one day. I mean, this was why Dad had spent a small fortune on private schools and ballet lessons and lavish birthday parties.

I'd never really fit in. Not in that fitting in way where you can do something crazy or outrageous and get away with it. It's not as if my family had been rich for generations. That, Dad said, is why I had to work harder. I had to accept every invitation and be seen in the right places, doing the right things and wearing the right clothes. But it'd been Dad who had destroyed all that, not me.

I did not need to go to some stupid gig and watch Jack Colt strutting around on stage. I’d have people who appreciated me for who I was.

Still, my stomach churned as I got ready to go out. I'd had my hair done, which had cost a fortune but natural blond doesn't come cheap. Because the weather had been stinking hot for the last few days, I searched in my wardrobe for something that would handle the heat.

I had the designer clothes Dad had bought me in Japan but they were winter clothes. And I had the credit card he'd given me. I didn't want to rely on him any more than I had to.

After piling everything I owned onto the floor, I found a dress I'd bought when I'd been shopping with Angie. Not a top label designer but a local indie label. It didn't seem that outstanding on the hanger but, when I tried it on, it looked made for me. The top fitted my body exactly and extenuated my boobs without being all low-cut, “look at me” sexy then the skirt flared out to swish around my legs.

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