The Good Girl. Christy Barritt
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Название: The Good Girl

Автор: Christy Barritt

Издательство: Ingram

Жанр: Религия: прочее

Серия:

isbn: 9781939023032

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ voice recordings that will prove whether or not a paranormal being is living in Lana’s house with you.”

      “A paranormal being?” I realized I started to consider the possibility and stopped, shaking my head. “No. There’s an explanation. Something logical.” I just had absolutely no idea what it was.

      She raised her eyebrows as the waitress set down plates of steaming eggs, bacon, biscuits and hash browns. Not good for my waist, but extremely good for my appetite.

      I started to bow my head and pray but stopped myself. Old habits. They were like an ex-boyfriend that wouldn’t go away. Or a ghost. Or a bad reputation, for that matter. The list could go on and on.

      “You should seriously think about it. It would be crazy fun to have them come out. I’ve never done a paranormal investigation before.”

      “No.” That just sounded like a bad idea any way I looked at it.

      “Think about it.”

      “Fine.” I took my first bite of over-easy egg, ready to put that conversation behind me. “So, if you’re this into all of this Hollywood stuff, why do you live in Minnesota?”

      “I decided I wanted to be the big fish in a small pond. I’ve done lots of local commercials and I’m really active on the Internet. Access Entertainment actually featured me once as an Internet celebrity to watch out for.”

      Impressive. I took another bite of egg and realized it needed some salt. I quickly remedied that problem. “What kind of stuff do you do on the Internet?”

      “I’ve done lots of stuff, but I’m mostly known for doing parodies and man-on-the-street interviews. I’ve organized two flashmobs. My blog and YouTube channel are called iCandy.”

      “I’ll have to check out some of your stuff sometime.”

      Candy studied me for a moment as she tore off a piece of her bagel. “Your sister said you’re a blogger too? Something about ten-thousand followers or something. Not bad for a novice.”

      “I used to be a blogger. Not anymore.” I’d taken the blog off-line, and, most likely, I’d delete it completely. I just couldn’t bring myself to do that yet. That blog had been my masterpiece, my legacy. At least, that’s what I’d thought at one time.

      Someone stopped beside our table. I looked up, expecting to see our fifty-something waitress standing there. Instead, my gaze continued climbing upward at the six-foot-plus man standing there with a broad grin across his face. And he was staring at me.

      Candy slapped her hands on the table and stood. “If it isn’t Mark Champion.”

      “Hey, sugar.” He gave her a hug, but his gaze lingered on me. “Who is this fine piece of work with you?”

      “This is Lana’s sister, Tara. You gotta remember Lana telling us that she was coming.”

      He stepped back and extended his hand. “I’m Mark. Pleasure to meet you.”

      Fine piece of work? Was that a compliment, or had the women’s movement just traveled back in time several decades? I reached for his hand, fussing at myself for the flutters I felt in my stomach.

      Mark Champion. The man Lana wanted to fix me up with. He was certainly handsome enough in a big, overblown way. Meaty muscles, tight T-shirt, gelled hair, a smile that I was quite certain showed off veneers. I cleared my throat. “Same here. Nice to meet you also.”

      He nodded with approval. “Tara. I like that name.”

      Why was I blushing? “Thank you.”

      “Sorry to stare. I’m sure you’re used to it, aren’t you? Someone as pretty as you.”

      Where did this man come from? Was he always so over-the-top when he flirted? Even scarier, was it working? “It’s been awhile, actually.” The last man who’d hit on me had been a weirdo who recognized me from the news. He’d actually enjoyed the negative coverage I’d been receiving.

      “That’s too bad.” Mark nodded toward the kitchen area. “Listen, I’m about to start my shift. I’ll see you two tonight at the rave, though, right?”

      You two? A rave? What in the world was he thinking? I shook my head. “I’m not a rave type of girl.” What was a rave exactly? A big party with electronic music and dancing and lots of alcohol?

      He smiled again. “You could be. You should give it a shot. It would be fun.”

      Fun? Wasn’t fun making cookies for the residents of a local nursing home? Or going on mission trips and leading children in Mexico in songs about how much God loves them? Or sitting around a campfire and talking about Jesus?

      Fun was certainly not a rave.

      He winked. “You should come hang out. We’ll be gentle on you your first time.”

      “Gentle on me?” I’d reduced myself to repeating everything he said.

      “Think about it.”

      I would not be thinking about it, I thought as he walked away. Even with my failures, I still had some standards to live by.

      As soon as he was out of earshot, Candy raised her eyebrows at me. “That was fast.”

      “What was fast?” Me rejecting the rave?

      “That you caught his eye. He’s a hot commodity in the area, you know. Businesses have actually paid him to show up at their parties.”

      “Why in the world would they do that?”

      “If Lana is Party Girl, then he’s Party Boy. He has an entourage with him wherever he goes. He brings in crowds.”

      “Why?” I wiped my mouth, suddenly fearful that I had toast crumbs on my chin.

      “Did you see him?”

      “Handsome faces are a dime a dozen.”

      She rolled her eyes. “Sure. Okay, it’s like this. He played college football for a while. He got canned because of some knee injury or something. I don’t know. Then he was cast on one of those survival shows. He didn’t win but he did get some endorsement deals from it.”

      “Why is he a waiter then?”

      “The party lifestyle isn’t cheap. He blew through all of that money pretty quickly. Don’t worry. He’ll get more deals and quit this job. When that money dries up, he’ll find some more part-time work. It’s the nature of the business.”

      I leaned back and chewed on her words. His story wasn’t that much different than Lana’s, I supposed. Lana was the type of girl who got noticed wherever she went—she always had been and always would. Sometimes that came out in positive ways—like when she was a cheerleader. Other times it came out negative ways—like when she danced on tables at restaurants on a dare.

      In college, she auditioned for Sunset House, a reality TV show where people lived and partied together for three months while cameras captured their every drunken move. She became an instant СКАЧАТЬ