Poor Little Bitch Girl Read Free Page A

there’s the slick lawyers who drive gleaming Porsches or Mercedes and favor twenty-year-old nubile blonde models or actresses with all the attributes.
    Not that I’m a dud, lookswise. If I didn’t live in L.A. I guess I’d be considered extremely attractive. I have long, chestnut-brown hair with natural golden highlights, wide hazel eyes, I’m five foot seven and I take a size eight dress (large by Beverly Hills standards – small for the rest of the country!).
    Okay, so I’m no Pamela Anderson, but believe me – I have no desire to be. Fake anything grosses me out – lips, breasts, cheekbones and chins. Ugh!! What are these women thinking?!
    The truth is that if Josh hadn’t broken up with me I would have eventually dumped him , because comfortable is great for a while, but passion is definitely lurking out there somewhere, and I do intend to find it. That’s when I have time, ’cause as I might have mentioned before, I’m a dedicated workaholic.
    This all happened three months ago, and word is that Josh has hooked up with a new girlfriend – some blonde, anorexic stylist to the stars that he picked up in a club.
    Hmm . . . talk about not waiting around. Anyway, good luck to him, I couldn’t care less.
    I myself am a little more discerning. Right now I’m not interested in anything permanent. I’ve decided that I should have some fun while I’m waiting for Mister Right to put in an appearance.
    “You’re late,” my boss scolded, greeting me at the door.
    My boss, Felix Saunders – or Mister Shark Teeth as he is known around the office, on account of the fact that he recently had his teeth re-crowned, and they shine like a row of dazzling white beacons – is ready for action. Felix is an imposing-looking man with a sharp Roman nose and a shock of crazy silver hair that stands on end, making him kind of resemble a white Don King. He also has a penchant for light-colored Brioni suits, colorful shirts and pointy-toed lizard shoes dyed in a variety of outrageous colors. Most people regard him as quite a character.
    Saunders, Fields, Simmons & Johnson is the name of the law firm I work for. I started out clerking for them while still in law school, then after I passed the bar they hired me as an associate. Within three years I was promoted to senior associate.
    I hate to sound immodest – well, not really! – but I am good, very good, and I think that Mister Shark Teeth loves me. Not as a woman, but as his right hand – a hand he knows he can always depend on. The man is a brilliant lawyer with a killer mind, so over the years I studiously ignored the whiter than white teeth, the out-of-control hair and the overly expensive suits, and learned everything I could from him. He is an excellent teacher and I’m a quick study, so it’s turned out aces for both of us. Soon I expect to be promoted to junior partner.
    I guess Josh is correct. I do put work first, and right now I have no reason not to.
    I consulted my watch – a Cartier – a birthday present from Mister Shark Teeth. Personally I’m not into labels, but other people seem to hold them in high regard, especially in Beverly Hills.
    “Two minutes hardly counts as late,” I said crisply.
    Felix Saunders raised a bushy eyebrow. “Always an argument,” he said, verging on irritable.
    “Facts are facts,” I responded.
    “The girl who always sees things in black and white,” he said dryly, tapping his chin with his slightly crooked index finger.
    “Nothing wrong with that ,” I countered. Getting in the last word is one of my habits that drives people crazy. I don’t give a crap, I enjoy having the last word. Besides, again, I don’t wish to sound immodest, but I’m usually right.
    “Follow me,” he said. “We have work to do.”
    I am considered a hot-shot attorney because in the past eighteen months I have defended two high-profile men with great success. Client number one was a well-known studio executive accused of rape by a TV star