had grown to like Martha over the years; his current wife, she never forgave her father for leaving them. They had never been close. Marrying Eddie was her way of smiting her snobbish father, who was a high-paid attorney for an investment firm back in Connecticut.
Her older sister, Kathy, stayed on in Greenwich, Connecticut; married her high school sweetheart, and had a whole passel of kids. Kathy was content with her life, towing the line between their neurotic mother and austere, distant father.
Leila Jones, their embittered mother, was still very much living in the past. Leila never got over her husband leaving her for his secretary. Her mother never failed to induce negativity into their phone conversations. Emily knew if she wanted to wallow in her own misery; she need only pick up the phone. Leila knew exactly what to say to make her feel worse. Leila would mock her feelings for Ian Sawyer; tell her to give it up. She would also say all men were pigs, her favorite saying, and get into a rant on their basest instincts. Yes, Leila wouldn’t be hearing from her anytime soon. She didn’t need to hear the truth.
Once home, Emily turned on the computer ; not surprised when she went to her profile page on Love.com to see she had no messages. She felt absurd to expect a stampede of emails since joining the dating site. Still, she was sore with raw, bruised feminine pride to see her mailbox was once more empty.
She glared at the screen, determined to arouse somebody’s interest ; anybody’s at that moment. The one hundred and eighty-six dollars she paid to join the site reminded her of her present dilemma. The light bill was due, the water bill, and she didn’t get paid for another week.
She was determined to put her profile into a more positive light. Just a few changes were needed. Emily pulled her current profile photo from the site, agreeing to herself it was much too lame. She needed something to grab at men’s attention. She chewed her lower lip, unsure if she dare do what she was contemplating.
An hour later ; Emily stared at the false picture in satisfaction. After combing the Victoria’s Secret website, she cropped an image of a model sure to make men drool. The fact it wasn’t her wouldn’t be lost on any of her dates the moment they met her, but she craved attention. She would definitely have plenty of mail come tomorrow. Maybe that was enough?
Pushing away the voice s of caution that warned she was being dishonest, Emily uploaded the image as her profile picture. What could it hurt? She was positive everyone did this to make them look better. Sure, she wasn’t a Victoria Secret model. Everybody did it, she was sure. There was nothing wrong with stretching the truth a bit. She warmed to her new persona; even exaggerated about herself in her biography.
Emily wasn’t merely an account representative at Stone and Watterman anymore. She was a full partner. She giggled as she went on to increase her potential by replacing her alma mater, listed as UCLA, with an Ivy League school back east. She was a Harvard grad who claimed time spent in The Peace Corps. She added she was on a first name basis with several well-known celebrities.
Emily got so caught up in the drama ; she forgot the time. She cursed to see it was nearly eleven o’clock before she finished her new profile on the dating site. She was going to be tired come morning. It would be worth it when she arrived home with a mailbox jammed full of messages from men who would see the new her. She trudged off to bed. Her last thought was of Ian before her eyes closed, feeling the hopelessness the crush induced as never before. In her dreams, Ian appealed to her every need.
When the alarm went off at six A.M., Emily groaned in protest, rolling over and hitting the snooze without thinking. Twice she thumped the button before her conscious mind reminded her of the meeting th at morning. She bounded out of bed; swearing to see she had less than thirty
Her older sister, Kathy, stayed on in Greenwich, Connecticut; married her high school sweetheart, and had a whole passel of kids. Kathy was content with her life, towing the line between their neurotic mother and austere, distant father.
Leila Jones, their embittered mother, was still very much living in the past. Leila never got over her husband leaving her for his secretary. Her mother never failed to induce negativity into their phone conversations. Emily knew if she wanted to wallow in her own misery; she need only pick up the phone. Leila knew exactly what to say to make her feel worse. Leila would mock her feelings for Ian Sawyer; tell her to give it up. She would also say all men were pigs, her favorite saying, and get into a rant on their basest instincts. Yes, Leila wouldn’t be hearing from her anytime soon. She didn’t need to hear the truth.
Once home, Emily turned on the computer ; not surprised when she went to her profile page on Love.com to see she had no messages. She felt absurd to expect a stampede of emails since joining the dating site. Still, she was sore with raw, bruised feminine pride to see her mailbox was once more empty.
She glared at the screen, determined to arouse somebody’s interest ; anybody’s at that moment. The one hundred and eighty-six dollars she paid to join the site reminded her of her present dilemma. The light bill was due, the water bill, and she didn’t get paid for another week.
She was determined to put her profile into a more positive light. Just a few changes were needed. Emily pulled her current profile photo from the site, agreeing to herself it was much too lame. She needed something to grab at men’s attention. She chewed her lower lip, unsure if she dare do what she was contemplating.
An hour later ; Emily stared at the false picture in satisfaction. After combing the Victoria’s Secret website, she cropped an image of a model sure to make men drool. The fact it wasn’t her wouldn’t be lost on any of her dates the moment they met her, but she craved attention. She would definitely have plenty of mail come tomorrow. Maybe that was enough?
Pushing away the voice s of caution that warned she was being dishonest, Emily uploaded the image as her profile picture. What could it hurt? She was positive everyone did this to make them look better. Sure, she wasn’t a Victoria Secret model. Everybody did it, she was sure. There was nothing wrong with stretching the truth a bit. She warmed to her new persona; even exaggerated about herself in her biography.
Emily wasn’t merely an account representative at Stone and Watterman anymore. She was a full partner. She giggled as she went on to increase her potential by replacing her alma mater, listed as UCLA, with an Ivy League school back east. She was a Harvard grad who claimed time spent in The Peace Corps. She added she was on a first name basis with several well-known celebrities.
Emily got so caught up in the drama ; she forgot the time. She cursed to see it was nearly eleven o’clock before she finished her new profile on the dating site. She was going to be tired come morning. It would be worth it when she arrived home with a mailbox jammed full of messages from men who would see the new her. She trudged off to bed. Her last thought was of Ian before her eyes closed, feeling the hopelessness the crush induced as never before. In her dreams, Ian appealed to her every need.
When the alarm went off at six A.M., Emily groaned in protest, rolling over and hitting the snooze without thinking. Twice she thumped the button before her conscious mind reminded her of the meeting th at morning. She bounded out of bed; swearing to see she had less than thirty
Similar Books
