Say the Word by Julie Johnson

Author:Julie Johnson [Johnson, Julie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Love/Hate, new adult romance, Romantic Suspense
Amazon: B00KRW9SUE
Publisher: Julie Johnson
Published: 2014-06-03T21:00:00+00:00

***

I should’ve known the day was going to be a train wreck when I spilled coffee down the front of my favorite little black dress and got whacked in the head by four separate umbrella-wielding madmen on the way to work.

Rain in New York is always an experience. Never in your life can you be nearly bludgeoned to death by the overwhelming volume of commuters’ umbrellas competing for airspace overhead, except on a rainy day during rush hour in the city. As if the overflowing sewer drains and traffic jams didn’t cause problems enough, whenever the slightest drizzle fell from the sky, New Yorkers would have their umbrellas out in spades, poking each other in the eyes and pushing one another off the sidewalks rather than risk a single raindrop wetting their hair.

I’d have to check the city records to verify it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if there were far more casualties on rainy days than sun-drenched ones. I’d nearly died just this morning, when an overzealous power-walker elbowed me off the street into the path on an oncoming taxi. I’d escaped with my life, but my black and white Miu Miu pumps hadn’t been so lucky — the puddle I’d landed in was deep and spilling over with grime, leaving stains no amount of suede-cleaner would ever lift.

Work itself hadn’t been so bad, I guess. Sebastian wasn’t there to torment me from afar and Angela had finally assigned me a project in my wheelhouse, writing a period piece that would be sandwiched between the 1920s and 1930s photo spreads in the Centennial issue. I spent my day settled at one of the work stations in a quiet corner, researching the years leading up to the Great Depression and immersing myself in a world that was, surprisingly, not all flapper dresses and finger curls. It was hard to tear myself away to break for lunch — I’d become enthralled by all the fashion and flagrancies that made the Jazz Age so deliciously immoral — but when the two Jennys invited me to grab salads with them, I couldn’t say no. We ended up at a small cafe just around the block, where the lines weren’t too long and the food was inexpensive but remarkably good.

“This project is so much fun,” Jenny S. squealed, pouring some vinaigrette over the bed of lettuce on her plate. “Way better than some of the other spreads we’ve been working on lately. Remember the sex position shoot we had to do last month, Jen? With the chocolate sauce we had to smear all over that model’s ti—”

“Please!” Jenny P. interjected forcefully. “Don’t remind me.” She grimaced before stuffing a forkful of salad into her mouth.

I laughed, easily envisioning the horror. Practically every month Luster featured a photo spread of scandalous poses inspired by the Kama Sutra, typically accompanied by a user guide of helpful tips and tricks to spice up our readers’ sex lives. Despite all my complaining, at least I could say my column rarely strayed in that direction.

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