The Kenneth Cole stilettos were damn near killing her,
and to make matters worse, her flight to Los Angeles was
delayed four hours. Hearing that wonderful tidbit of news
didn't exactly make her dance a jig from supreme excitement.
Her entire day had been hectic; interviewing prospective
Sports Illustrated models, many of them with mini brains
and maxi mouths, and whenever she made it the hell to L.A.,
she'd have to do it all again—and attend a business seminar.
Nonetheless, that was the life of a successful modeling agency
owner. Her midtown office had gorgeous young women practically crawling through the sewer systems to get in. Business
was good, but not something she could do here, and thanks to
American Airlines, she now had an additional four hours to
stew.
Her only thought: What the hell does someone do in Midway Airport for hours other than read all the tabloids and
drink themselves to death in the overly expensive airport bar?
There was nothing else to do to the immediate observer, but
Ms. Caroline Pierce had just the plan: veg-out at her gate and
continue to salivate over what she had seen last night.
As she sat on ... read full ebook excerpt
