Read Online A Tale of Two Pretties by Lisi Harrison - Free Book Online Page B

her arm over Dylan’s shoulders and led her to the living room, where Jaime and
     Ryan were chilling on the couches, nibbling on fruit kabobs.
    “It was good,” Dylan said vaguely. She could count on one hand how many times her family had hung out together in the formal
     living room. It felt like the set of
The Daily Grind
, only without one wall removed for audience seating.
    “Those Citizens are so slimming,” Jaime gushed. Dylan turned around to see who she was talking to.
    “I’m talking to you, Dylan!” Jaime clarified.
    Ryan patted the empty couch cushion next to her. “Come sit. Let’s catch up!”
    Dylan sat, but not before scouring the room for hiddencameras. She ran a hand through the chamaedorea palm tree in the corner and then tried to discreetly examine all the decorative
     pillows. They seemed clear, yet… her mother never had time to relax with her daughters on a random afternoon. Her sisters
     were never this interested in her.
    But she couldn’t find any evidence of the production team, and her family was looking at her expectantly. So she collapsed
     onto the couch next to Ryan, released her doubts into a brie-and-raspberry tart, and told them about the clothing sale. They
     even offered to contribute. An attentive family and delicious foods? A girl could get used to this.
    CUT TO:
    A little while later, Dylan stood in her walk-in, blaring Ke$ha and pulling items to donate. Out came the old Pradas and Nanette
     Lepores, the only-worn-once-but-already-way-over-it rompers and miniskirts. As she pruned her closet, she felt like she was
     shedding another ten pounds.
    The unmistakable smell of lasagna drifted past her nose, and Dylan stopped, mesmerized. Merri-Lee’s lasagna was a meal legends
     were made of, but she hadn’t made it in at least five years—not since her talk show had taken off and catapulted her into
     low-carb celebdom.
    “Dylly-pie, dinner time!”
    Merri-Lee’s voice wafted up the stairs and into Dylan’sroom, just like the aroma of meat sauce and basil. Her pink Calvin Klein tank fluttered to the floor like a low-fat tortilla,
     and she dashed out of her room.
    “Whoa!” she blurted, running headfirst into the hair and makeup team.
    “Touch-up time!” one of the stylists sang.
    “Wha—”
    But before Dylan could even finish asking what they were doing there, the team quickly rubbed some sticky pomade into her
     curls, blotted her face, and outlined her eyes and lips. Then there was a final coat of sheer gloss, a straightening of her
     Marni blouse and jeans, and she was off to claim her dream meal.
    In the dining room, Jaime and Ryan, shiny in all the right places and matte everywhere else, sat on either side of Merri-Lee,
     leaving Dylan to sit at the foot of the table. Not only did the food smell ah-mazing, it looked that way, too. Bowls of crisp
     garlic bread, hunks of fresh parmesan, and tall pitchers of ice water with lemon wedges surrounded the main event: the lasagna,
     which sat in the center of the table on Merri-Lee’s best crystal serving platter. Dylan sat down and grabbed the Tiffany serving
     spoon (a gift from the ladies of
The View
), but Ryan kicked her under the table.
    “Not yet,” she hissed as Walkie-Talkie walked in. He headed straight for Merri-Lee.
    “You remember what we talked about, right, Merrily?” He said her name like it was one word and Dylan braced herself. Merri-Lee
     did nawt like to be mistaken for someone with anadverb as a name. Dylan had learned that lesson even before she knew what an adverb was.
    “All set,” Merri-Lee muttered through pursed lips. Walkie-Talkie left, the lights went on, and finally Dylan heard the mysterious
     director yell, “Action!” Without wasting a moment, she cut into the lasagna and began serving herself.
    “So, is everyone excited to be back home after our lovely vay-cay?” Merri-Lee asked, squeezing lemon into her water.
    Dylan watched Ryan and Jaime for cues on how to respond and then