even tug at her hem. “It is the regulation length, but I have long legs, so it sits in a different place. I usually wear a slightly lower heel to compensate.”
At school they’d called her Giraffe. She’d taken to sitting down whenever she could so that people didn’t tease her for being tall. She’d lost herself in books, because things happened in books that never happened in real life to tall, bespectacled, introverted teenagers.
“It’s barely decent. You need to do something about it.”
“My legs?” Matilda was bemused. “They’re—er—attached to me.”
Lara Striker would have smacked one of her long legs right into Cynthia’s head with an impressive martial arts turning kick that would have left the other woman dazed with a concussion. Then she would have pinned Cynthia to the wall and lectured her on the importance of fostering positive body image.
Matilda chose a different option. She tried to make herself smaller. She hated doing it, because it made her butt stick out.
All her characters were normal sized and delicate boned. They didn’t have any of these problems.
Cynthia’s smile vanished briefly. “Next time, wear a longer skirt. And if you see Chase Adams, don’t talk to him, and for pity’s sake don’t spill anything on him. Come and find me.” She stalked off before Matilda could point out that the likelihood of her identifying Chase Adams was slim, given that she had no idea what he looked like. His library, she would have recognized in her sleep, but as for the man himself, she had no idea. She was relying on someone else to point him out.
Glancing around the room, she tried to spot someone who might fit his profile. She assumed he was old and fusty.
The Man Who Had Everything.
She’d read the piece, but there had been no photo of the man himself. Just images of glass and steel—properties that he’d built. And the library in his house.
According to the article, he’d taken over his father’s company and grown it to ten times its original size. He was ruthless and focused. Matilda had shamelessly stolen aspects of his character for her heroine.
Why should drive and ambition be the sole province of men? In her opinion, it shouldn’t be. That was another thing her mother had taught her.
The only thing a man has that a woman doesn’t is a penis.
Paige appeared by her side. “You’re doing a great job, Matilda. I really appreciate the extra hours you’ve put in on this one. We’re so lucky to have you on the team.”
Matilda relaxed slightly.
Paige was the opposite of Cynthia. In fact, Paige was the reason that half the staff of Star Events hadn’t resigned. She soothed and smoothed, was energetic and organized. Nothing rattled her, and no matter how much pressure was piled on her head from her superiors, she never let it leak through. Cynthia showered people with so much stress their skin shriveled like grass under attack from acid rain.
“She hates me.”
“She hates everyone.” Eva appeared and flashed her a smile. “You should put her in a book and kill her off.”
“I don’t write that sort of book.”
“You should. It would be cathartic. I’ll provide the weapon. We can make it look natural. Frankie knows all the poisonous plants. I could bake her a really tasty muffin. It’s super easy to disguise the taste of arsenic in baked goods.” Eva studied Matilda from the side. “Are you constipated? Because I have the perfect recipe for that.”
Matilda squirmed awkwardly. “What makes you think I’m constipated?”
“You’re standing weirdly. As if you’re about to sit on the toilet.”
“I’m trying to be shorter.”
“Why would you want to be shorter?”
“Because Cynthia thinks I’m too tall. Or maybe my skirt is too short. I’m not totally clear about the nature of the offense, if I’m honest.”
“I didn’t realize height was stipulated in the contract.” Frankie joined them, her gaze roaming over the floral displays as if daring a single bloom to wilt on her watch. A floral designer, Frankie was wildly creative, a trait Matilda admired as much as her vivid red hair and fiery personality.
“You’re a perfect height,” Paige said. “You could be a model.”
“Except that most models are elegant, and I can’t put one foot in front of the other without falling over.” If she could change one thing about herself it would be that. She hated being clumsy. She longed to be delicate and feminine. Paige moved like a dancer, Eva bounced and Frankie stalked. None of them stumbled.
“Look at it this way—” Eva carefully straightened the tray Matilda was clutching “—you can look over the heads of all the over-made-up women, straight into the eyes of the taller men. There’s an advantage in every disadvantage.”
“Ignore her,” Frankie advised. “She’s a cup half full sort of person. It’s annoying.”
Matilda was also a cup half full person, but usually because she’d spilled the other half. She’d decided long ago that Eva was the kindest person she’d ever met. She envied the strength of the friendship between Eva, Paige and Frankie, who had grown up together on a small island off the coast of Maine. Paige always joked that they were small-town girls transplanted into the big city. They’d swapped rural life for the excitement of New York, and the three of them shared a brownstone in Brooklyn along with Paige’s older brother, Matt. Matilda had met him once and immediately used him as inspiration for one of her heroes.
Matilda had never told them, but she’d borrowed shamelessly from Paige’s, Eva’s and Frankie’s personalities when she was creating Lara. The result was a heroine who was the perfect mix of tough and sexy.
She’d chosen to give her heroine Frankie’s fiery red hair, but now she was wondering if she should have given her Eva’s golden curls. People invariably underestimated blondes, didn’t they? It would be fun to see someone underestimating Lara. That was a scene she would have had fun writing.
“I’m supposed to tell her if I see Chase Adams, but I have no idea what he looks like.” What did “the man who had everything” look like?
She didn’t reveal her real reasons for wanting to meet him. She knew it was a long shot. She didn’t need anyone to tell her.
Eva glanced around. “I know what he looks like—insanely handsome as it happens—but I don’t think he’s here. I do, however, see Jake Romano, and he gives Chase a run for his money.”
Matilda followed her gaze and saw a wickedly handsome dark-haired man laughing with an incredibly beautiful woman.
She sighed. “They seem totally in love.” She glanced at Paige, expecting her to agree, and noticed the brief flash of pain in her eyes.
“The only person Jake Romano loves is himself.”
There was a shimmer of emotion in her voice and Matilda knew she’d inadvertently stepped into dangerous territory.
Did Paige know Jake? Did they have a history?
The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Paige, and she was about to say something when Eva gave a quick shake of her head and changed the subject deftly.
“You wouldn’t like Chase Adams. They say he’s a ruthless moneymaking machine with no heart or soul.”
Matilda didn’t care about that. She did care about the fact he might be able to give her his brother’s email address.
“Of course he’s here. How can he not be here? What sort of man wouldn’t show up at his own event?”
Paige smiled, her natural good humor restored. “Probably a man who knows