Read Online Perfect on Paper by Maria Murnane - Free Book Online

Beach volleyball? What company are you representing? Is it a bikini manufacturer?”
    “I work for Jammin’ Athletic Gear,” I said with another sigh. “I’m a publicist.”
    “A what? For what?”
    I glanced over his shoulder. “A publicist, for Jammin’ Athletic Gear. I manage media relations for the sporting goods company throwing this party.”
    “Ya mean y’all handle press conferences and things like that?”
    “Yes, exactly,” I said. His southern drawl was really getting on my nerves. I looked around the room for someone to rescue me. No one.
    I looked back at him and tried not to think about his male muffin top. “Um, what do you do, Chuck?”
    “My company sells hot dogs to the concession stands at the convention center.” He had his greasy fingers back in his mouth.
    Hot dogs? More than one inappropriate comment came to mind.
    “Oh, so you’re not in town just for the show?” I said.
    He shook his head. “No, no, sweetheart. I work with all the shows that come through here. But I dig the Super Show because of all the hot broads like yourself who come along with the package. Are you married?”
    Was this fat little man serious? To hell with being polite. I had to get out of there. I put my plate down on a table and decided to make a run for it.
    “Uh, well, it was nice talking to you, Chuck, but I need to meet up with some friends. Have a nice night.”
    I turned to leave, but he grabbed my arm with his greasy, chubby hand. “Hey now, sweetheart, don’t leave just yet! We were just getting started. Ya know, there are all sorts of ways to enjoy a Waverly cracker. Maybe we could have a little snack in your hotel room?”
    Did he really just say that? I yanked my arm away and began walking toward the dance floor. “I’m sorry, Chuck, but I really have to go now.”
    “Save me a dance!” he called after me.
    Ugh. I kept going and didn’t look back.
    I escaped to a corner on the other side of the room and looked at my watch again. Where were Kent and Davey? Where was Penelope? I finished the last bit of my drink and put it down on one of the small round tables. My attempt at securing nourishment at the buffet had been thwarted by Chuck, and now I was more buzzed than ever.
    I could still feel the clammy touch of his hand on my arm and wondered if there was any disinfectant on that tray of products in the lounge. So gross! Just my luck that of all the guys at the party, it was Chuck in his black Levi’s who had come up to talk to me. Did I look like a Chuck type of girl? Was my dad right about me?
    Just as I was beginning to rethink the whole red lipstick thing, someone tapped me on the shoulder.
    “Waverly, is that you?”
    I swung around and found myself face-to-face with the third button of a perfectly pressed white cotton shirt. Then I looked up about two feet and saw Shane Kennedy looking down at me.
    I smiled wide. “Hey, Shane! I’m so glad to see you. Apparently I don’t know anyone here.” I hoped I wasn’t yelling, because after a few drinks I had a tendency to talk way louder than necessary.
    “Well, that makes three of us.” He nodded to the person standing next to him, and my eyes followed.
    No way.
    It was the cute guy I’d seen the first morning of the Super Show, right after the unfortunate Milky Way incident.
    “Waverly, this is Jake McIntyre,” Shane said. “He was my roommate in college and is the head physical therapist and trainer for the Hawks here in Atlanta.” Then he looked at Jake. “Waverly managed all the press interviews for JAG at the show.”
    “Hi, uh, um, it’s nice to meet you, Jake.” I held out my hand, hoping it wasn’t too sweaty.
    “It’s nice to meet you, too.” He shook my hand and smiled, and I could feel my cheeks getting red. Did he recognize me? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
    “Um, uh, so you two were roommates in college?” I played with my earring and wondered if I had any breath mints in my purse.
    “All four years,”