What's a Girl to Do?
Book One in Indecent Proposals
Aimée Duffy
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www.harpercollins.co.uk
Contents
HarperImpulse an imprint of
HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
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www.harpercollins.co.uk
First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2013
Copyright © Aimée Duffy 2013
Cover Photographs © shutterstock.com
Aimée Duffy asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Ebook Edition © August 2013 ISBN: 9780007540280
Version 2014-09-24
Digital eFirst: Automatically produced by Atomik ePublisher from Easypress.
To Chelle, Amalie, Cat/Jo, Amy, Mel and the Dashing ladies. I really appreciate having you all, especially when I'm whining.
Tonight’s a tequila night, screw the lime mixer.
Shey Lopez grinned at Georgia’s email to her and their other roommate, Eloisa. No doubt about it, the week had dragged and she was up for something stronger than their usual pitcher of frozen margaritas.
She hit reply to all and got typing.
I’m in.
Jude Graham chose that second to clear his throat at the door to her office. She fought back a scowl at her boss and hit CTRL & E without glancing at the screen. The high-maintenance bitch looked flustered, which was ironic since he’d barely lifted a finger all week. His whole me editor, you do what I tell you attitude got on her nerves. If Storm wasn’t the best fashion magazine in New York, she’d be out of there faster than Jude could buff his fingernails. And, going by the way that they shined, he was a pro.
‘What can I do for you, Jude?’ Surely he could tell the saccharine tone of her voice was false. Then again, being false was one of Jude’s many talents.
‘I need those proofs for the Gianni article by the end of the day.’
Shey’s smile slipped. He’d given her the paperwork less than an hour ago and it was already way past three. The guy was a nightmare, too busy wrapped up in another argument with his husband to care about his job. She couldn’t wait for the day she cranked up enough experience to leapfrog over his ass and be the editor, not the assistant.
‘There’s only two hours left and I have other work to do,’ she said, sounding calm, even though her heart rate increased with trepidation. Still, she was playing over all the insults she could think of in her mind.
He scowled, or tried to. The botox didn’t leave much room for changes in his expression. ‘There’s more than one smart-assed girl in this building who would kill for your position. If the article isn’t on my desk at five, you can kiss your job goodbye.’
With that and more flourish than a prom queen, he left. Shey was tempted to launch her stapler at the empty doorway, but resisted. Everything good in life came with a price, or so she told herself. Her dream job should have a downside, it was only the natural balance of things. That little bitch Jude was what she had to suffer to get to the top, and she would suffer him and do it with a smile.
Closing her eyes, she took a calming breath. And then another. Her yoga instructor would be proud.
With her head cleared, she got her focus back in the game. Jude would have his article on the desk by four forty-five. She could do this. And later, when her head was frazzled and her fingers ached, she’d go out with her girls and drink the well dry.
Opening a new email, she sent another message to Georgia and Eloisa.
The bitch is at it again. Make mine doubles.
After hitting send, she got to work.
***
With half an hour to spare, Shey was relieved her speedy fingers and dedication meant she’d get to see Jude’s jaw drop. Three read-throughs later and the article was as polished as she could make it, but she wasn’t kidding herself that it would be enough. Little bitch, or LB as most of the office staff called him, was pernickety and thorough. One mistake or missing word and he’d come down on her so hard that some would think she’d made an attempt on his husband’s life.
Tapping