Stephanie Bond - She Did a Bad, Bad Thing

STEPHANIE BOND

feels she won the lottery in November 1995 – when Mills & Boon bought her very first book! Since then, Stephanie has written over twenty-five books for Mills & Boon, and still loves bringing stories of romance and comedy to her readers all over the world. Stephanie lives in Atlanta, Georgia, with her husband, Christopher. She loves to hear from her readers at www.stephaniebond.com.

Dear Reader,

Have you ever dreamed of winning the lottery? Jane Kurtz regularly plays the lottery with her co-workers, but she never really thinks about winning. Why would she? Everything in Jane’s life is perfectly ordinary – her looks, her car, her life. When she overhears her hot next-door neighbour make a crack about her sad little life, she longs to do something completely wild and unexpected, and then…she and her co-workers have the winning ticket! Jane shocks everyone by going to Vegas for a wild weekend. But Jane herself is shocked when her hot neighbour follows her to make sure she doesn’t get into trouble…with anyone but him!

I hope you enjoy this first of six books in the MILLION DOLLAR SECRETS mini-series. Please share with your friends the great stories that you read between the pages of Mills & Boon ®novels! Visit me at www.stephaniebond.com.

Much love and laughter,

Stephanie Bond

BY

STEPHANIE BOND

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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This book is dedicated to all my readers who find the riches in their everyday lives with family and friends.

1

“LISTEN…I’M sorry—what was your name again?”

Jane Kurtz turned off the handheld airbrush machine that was depositing a perfect layer of makeup over the zits of celebutante Casey Campella, today’s guest on Just Between Us . “It’s Jane.”

“Oh…right.” Casey wrinkled her nose. “Listen, I don’t want to look orange on camera. I have a lot of friends and family here in Atlanta, and they’ll all be watching the show.”

Watching for tips on how to make their own home sex tape reminiscent of the one of Casey and her current boyfriend that was making the rounds on the Internet. Jane bit her tongue to keep from saying that as far as Casey appearing on camera looking too orange was concerned, it was too late.

Instead Jane wet her lips. “I promise you won’t look orange, Ms. Campella. But I’m afraid you’ll have to be still in order for me to do the best job possible.”

Casey sniffed and looked away.

Jane turned the airbrush machine on again and continued to apply a flawless application of makeup on the young woman’s face, conceding that what she lacked in skin texture, she made up for in bone structure. The only thing higher than the woman’s cheekbones were her boobs, which allegedly had their own fan club and Website.

When the foundation layer was complete, Jane turned off the machine and proceeded to enhance the woman’s deep blue eyes with strategic applications of false eyelashes, highlighters, shadows, and liner.

Next came the cheeks, which needed only a touch of sparkle, then the biggest challenge—creating the illusion of a pouty, well-defined mouth from pencil-thin lips in a shade of red that would make the woman’s nicotine-stained teeth look as white as possible. All this while Casey talked on her phone with her boyfriend, who, from the one-sided R-rated conversation, appeared to be as immature as the giggling starlet—and very possible masturbating on the other end.

“I had a dream about you last night, baby…no, me first…no, me first…okay, you go ahead…oh, baby-cakes, that’s so hot I can hardly stand it…uhhuh…I want you so bad right now….”

In the midst of her frustration and embarrassment, Jane tamped down a stab of jealousy. What would it be like to have a man so crazy for you that he called you up to say naughty things?

“Five minutes,” an associate producer cued from the doorway, and Casey indicated that she’d heard.

“Gotta run, baby. Be sure to tape the show…we’ll watch it together.” From her throaty laugh, it was clear what they planned to do while they watched her discuss their sex life on the hottest regional talk show around.

Fighting an eye roll, Jane sensed another sex tape in the making.

Casey disconnected the call, then leaned forward in the bright illumination of the mirror to scrutinize her makeup from every angle. Her forehead furrowed in a frown.

“Is there a problem, Ms. Campella?” Jane asked.

“No. In fact, I look…amazing.”

Jane smiled and gave a little nod. “I’m glad you’re pleased.”

“Thank you, uh—what was your name again?”

“Jane.”

“Right.” Casey stood and tore off the paper cape protecting the red trench-coat style mini-dress that Jane had chosen for her from wardrobe. It struck the perfect balance between classy and trashy. The curvy celebrity did a twirl in the full-length mirror, winked at herself, then looked Jane up and down. “I’m just wondering, if you can make other people look this good, why don’t you do something for yourself?”

Jane’s smile dissolved as the woman strode away in the decadent Donald Pliner black stiletto boots that Jane had spent the better part of two days hunting down. A few seconds later, music sounded and the audience burst into wild applause and cheers, indicating that the current “it” girl had blessed them with her appearance.

In a spin that only host Eve Best could put on the eyebrow-raising topic, this episode, she claimed, was for women who wanted to add a little spice to their marriage. To hear Eve tell it, revealing the DOs and DON’Ts of making an at-home sex tape was practically a public service for housewives.

Jane shook her head and expelled a little laugh as she watched the monitor overhead. With the host of the show and today’s guest both looking better than nature intended, her workday was essentially over, although, officially she stayed until the show signed off in the event of a shine-blotting emergency.

She carefully cleaned all the tools and containers she used to cleanse, moisturize, exfoliate, shave and tweeze, plus the appliances to apply makeup and false eyelashes and to fill in the occasional over-plucked eyebrow. As her hands moved automatically, performing the job she’d performed every day for the past three years, her mind wandered back to Casey Campella’s cutting remark.

Jane glanced into the mirror that was her customary work environment and acknowledged ruefully that the bouncy celebrity had only voiced what every other person whom Jane worked on probably wondered:

How could a talented and sought-after makeup artist and stylist be so unattractive?

For the most part, Jane avoided mirrors. When she brushed her teeth, for instance, she didn’t stop to analyze the ordinary placement of her unremarkable features—the common pale blue eyes, the standard eyebrows, the average nose, the regular mouth, the unexceptional skin tone, all framed by run of the mill light brown hair of middling length.

All in all, an extremely forgettable face.