Pool Boy E-Book

J. Garcia

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

 
Marissa Harper was a wealth trophy wife turned widow desperately wanting to put her rotten marriage behind her. One morning she surprised to see a new face and worker in her backyard. Sparks begin to fly when she meets Antonio.

Leseprobe

Pool Boy

J. Garcia

Copyright © 2018 by J. Garcia

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Applying the mascara to my stubborn eyelashes, I removed the smeared lines around my mouth until my lipstick was perfect. Damn. This stupid dress kept on hiking up like there was a string pulling it. Those worthless tailors charged a fortune for standard Couture, yet my freaking thighs are still suffocating dreadfully. Or maybe I was just gaining a few pounds? My recent midnight cravings for loads of calories, while watching Devious Maids on Netflix have been torturing me. I felt like such a fat bitch.

I rubbed a piece of tissue on my cheek to get rid of the excess blush then checked my pearly whites for any lipstick stains that would later be embarrassing. Especially when giving my fake smiles to those full-of-shit-CEOs. Once my make-up was ready I fished out the silver hair clip letting my hair fall down. René was truly a genius. These dark extensions really looked fabulous. I first told him I wanted something different, “the dirty blonde look is definitely for you darling, don’t bother protesting just take my word for it.” He assured me, and gosh was he ever right. Never try to argue with a five-time award winning French hair dresser. It’s a futile battle.

“Excuse me, Miss Harper. Mrs. Gibson has arrived.”

Maria entered the room informing me.

“Wonderful, show her inside.”

I told her.

“Oh my god, do I know you?”

Kate yelled, making her usual dramatic entrance. I smiled flashing my new hairdo like the models always do on TV.

“You look like a teenager, and I the geeky best friend,” she pinched my tosh. But I couldn’t feel it since the fabric of the dress was so tightly fitted.

“Don’t be absurd Kate, you look gorgeous.”

And wasn’t lying to spare my best friend’s feelings, she looked very attractive in that pink strapless gown.

“So where’s Carl?”

“His mother is ill so he flew to London to check on her, which means I will have to be the spokeswoman tonight on his behalf.”

She replied as we both fix the bust line on our dresses.

“Mama’s boy,” I smirked to her.

“Hey, I love that about him; even though the old hag and I don’t get along, I still think it’s sweet.” She smiled to herself.

“You’re married to him for six years now and you still use the word ‘sweet’?”

I raised an eyebrow.

“It depends on the type of marriage you’re in, dear.” My smile faded.

“Well I would know about that.”

I muttered in low voice.

“I’m sorry Marissa, I didn’t mean to-”

“Forget it. It’s gone and in the past, come on girl. Let’s get going we can’t keep the bastards waiting.” I grabbed my purse and we went to her car.

Kate parked the Audi in front the Peterson’s Mansion, the valet was just in time to get our doors for us. The house was refurnished with European antiques. The paintings were exquisite, done by some of the most prestigious Italian artist. The candescent lights glowed from the refined pine-wooden furniture; almost hundred caterers were serving hors d’ oeuvres of every kind. A cute, curly haired waiter with a charming smile politely offered us a glass of Crystal champagne. Kate smiled flirtatiously to the young man taking a tall glass from the silver tray then watched him walk away.

“Does Carl know you have a schoolboy fetish?” I asked nudging her arm.

“Does he..? Dear, Carl role plays it at least two nights a week for me. That boy reminds me of my sweetheart, they have similar dimples,” she chuckled making me roll my eyes. There’s nothing more romantic than remembering your husband- who’s in a different country, by recapturing a fresher image of him.

“Boy, did Elle all go out for this occasion or what?” Kate whispered eyeing the place observantly.

“No surprise, Mrs. Peterson most favorite hobby is to spend her husband’s money while he plays with his latest collection of bimbos.”

I said blatantly.

“I wonder if she’s still on her dieting binge. Rumor is she’s gained forty pounds after catching Jack on his yacht with a Sports Illustrated model.” She gushed.

“I’m shocked, I thought he preferred the Playboy catalog girls. Glad I didn’t bet with you on that one,” we chuckled silently to each other.

We made our way to the Parlor area where we found the full circle of CEOs and Executives, some with their wives the rest sporting their life-sized Barbie dolls. Others were either businessmen or country club friends, no doubt. How did I manage to keep undergoing so many of these annoying soirees? I mused. What with the gossiping, fake smiles, flirting, cheating and scandals aka social occasion for rich snobs.

The men seemed like all I could dream about when I was young and naïve, now having gone through pain, regret and humiliation I held back enough pride to still hold my head high. It was time for me to play the part of the wealthy, grieving widow which I was more than happy to do. I killed the champagne with one gulp. “Take it easy babe, I’m here for you.” Kate hooked her hand around my elbow as we stepped into room together. Not long after, everyone’s head turned to whisper something about the poor, scorned widow. Fuck off assholes!

“Katy and Marissa, darlings…”

Good god! Is that really Elle Peterson? She had cut her hair and was dressed in pure black, appeared a one-sixty pounder, I could have mistaken her for a Nightingale prancing towards us.

She gave us both four air kisses on either side of the cheek then pulled me into a hug almost crushing me in the progress. I threw a hysterical look to Kate who reciprocated with a quick shrug translation: “Just don’t mention it like every else is clearly doing.”

“Oh, how are you darling? I hope things are getting better for you, you know dealing with Tom’s passing can’t be easy for you,” she said giving me a nearly convincing sympathetic expression.

“Well Elle, each day it gets a little bit better.” I gave her the best fake smile I could manage as she did the same stretching the life out of her puffy cheeks. The hell with that scumbag he was nothing but a piece of shit, then again that’s your type, isn’t it Elle? Your hubby is probably banging even more cheap whores since you became a porker.

“And don’t you worry by the way I didn’t invite HER. Jack wanted to because she’s been dating his friend, who’s a partner in the company, but on your behalf. I insisted he find himself someone else to accompany him here.” She said lowering her voice. “I think from now on she’s going to find herself not invited to many of our social events, after all, everyone’s heard the shameful thing she’s done. It must had been horrible for you-”

Visit: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/572433 to purchase this book to continue reading. Show the author you appreciate their work!