Read Online Smart Girl by Rachel Hollis - Free Book Online

assistants learn early on the possible implications of a dance-floor brawl.
    Landon quickly turns to face me.
    “Not like Lara Croft kind of action. Just an activity of some kind.”
    “Oh man,” Casidee groans when she realizes what we’re talking about. “Please tell me you’re not considering Lara Croft! Beyond the obvious reasoning, that makes zero sense as a means of starting a relationship.”
    I scowl at her. “What do you mean ‘beyond the obvious’?”
    Casidee’s gaze goes to Landon and then back to me again, apparently urging her to deliver this news.
    Landon grins. “Girl, you know your legs aren’t long enough to pull off those shorts with combat boots.”
    Casidee nods in agreement, and I shoot them both disgruntled looks.
    “A, you’re both rude, and two, Tomb Raider is not on my list and you know it.”
    Landon shakes her head slowly as they both start to walk away to greet the guests.
    “Yeah, well, I also know that you keep adding to that list every few days, and your definition of a love story is getting more and more nebulous,” she says.
    I swipe my hair out of my face.
    “There is nothing nebulous about the Professor and Mary Ann. Theirs is an unending love!”
    Their laughter is so loud that it actually manages to make its way back to me over the sound of the enthusiastic jazz band in the corner.

    As far as the interview went, I had a great idea, but I didn’t plan for what would happen once I was actually in his office beyond asking him questions and occasionally biting my lip. That always works in the books, so I have no idea why it doesn’t yield any actual results in real life. I should have had a stronger plan in place. I should have known I was never going to get real results with something so simple.
    Landon has now mentioned that I should try something with action. She’s also told me to try a bit more subtlety. The latter isn’t really in my wheelhouse. What’s the point of trying any of the things on my list if I’m just going to tiptoe around him? Isn’t that what I’ve been doing for the last year?
    I nod at my own wisdom and drop a Sprite bottle into my shoulder bag. Liam asked me to meet him at the restaurant again to go over the plans that I didn’t get to show him the other day. I will start off this interaction like I did the last one. I’ll make conversation and see if I can get us away from our usual line of chatter. But worst-case scenario? I’m drinking what’s in that bottle.
    On the drive over to West Hollywood, I already feel nauseous. Just researching ipecac syrup is enough to make anyone retch, and my gag reflex is already pretty bad. First of all, they don’t even sell it anymore—at least that’s what the snooty pharmacist told me when I asked. So I did more research and found some homeopathic stuff you can buy over the counter. The Internet also had some recipes to create your own, but the thought of mixing egg yolks and boiled okra together made me want to puke just reading about it. No way I could actually get something like that in my mouth.
    The whole thing is a little crazy—I know. But it has to be done. It worked in Sense and Sensibility , and who am I to argue with Jane Austen? In that book Marianne gets sick and Colonel Brandon has to take care of her. I am almost certain that if I were to get sick, Liam would step up in the same way and we’d have a prolonged period of time alone, which would have to lead somewhere, right? I figure I don’t even need to be too bad off either. The recommended dosage (at least according to the Internet) is two tablespoons. If I have one small sip from the bottle in my purse—which is equal parts Sprite and syrup—it should be enough to make me believably ill without inflicting permanent damage.
    I park my car and hurry up the tree-lined street to the restaurant, wearing my favorite white jeans with holes in each knee. My black booties match my black T-shirt and the black tuxedo jacket that always