Read Arm Candy for Free Online Page A

When they determined the right address, Otto went to the espresso bar downstairs and nursed a cup of coffee until he spied Wes at the foot of the steps, rubbing his little gold glasses on the bottom of his sweatshirt as he adjusted his messenger bag laden with texts and drafting papers. Bingo.
    Not long after, his girlfriend emerged, even more breathtaking than before; her black jeans were tight and sleek, her long hair flowing over a sexy blouse she wore with the sleeves pushed up and a ton of bangle bracelets. Like a proto-Kate Moss, she had a style all her own, which cost little and was the trademark confident type that money can’t buy. She tucked a lock of long hair behind her ear and walked smack into Otto.
    “Miss Eden,” Clyde said in his British-inflected, light German accent on her street corner as she was on her way to Tower Records. “How would you like to do some modeling for me?”
    “Sure.” She shrugged nonchalantly. She played it cool with her relaxed body language, but inside she was doing Romanian-caliber triple back-handsprings. They walked to a pay phone on the corner and she called in sick to work. She hung up with a big smile and turned to Otto. Otto took her hand.
    “Follow me.”
    When Eden first arrived in the enormous, bustling Clyde studio, she was blown away. There were gorgeous, gamine hangers-on, rock music blaring, eyeliner-heavy assistants preparing a canvas with gesso. Otto showed her how to do the various poses, which came quite naturally that morning and over the next few technicolorful days. It was like a big, loud, raucous party that never ended, and Eden, lying on a white couch as Otto sketched her, was at its center. There were whispers from his circle of onlookers about her exquisite beauty, her perfect body, the fierce soul in her eyes.
    She started going to the studio every day, and each night she would come home and gush all about the day’s “work” to Wes, whose expression lit up as he watched his girlfriend excitedly describe her incredible day modeling.
    “This is huge,” Wes said beaming. “He is such a brilliant artist.”
    “Yeah, he’s kind of as big as it gets right now,” Eden marveled.
    Wes was thrilled for her—he was so proud of Eden, not just because she had been noticed for her amazing beauty but because of her uniqueness, the fire in her eyes, her penetrating, burning soul, and the charm she emitted. She was enchanting, and together Wes knew they would make great art. But little did Wes know that Otto was a pair of shiny, searing hot scissors that would soon leave his heart in tattered ashen shards on the Bowery.
     
     
    “What the fuck is your problem?” Allison asked, astonished when Eden said she wasn’t sure if she’d stay with Wes long-term. “You guys are made for each other. By the way, news flash: He’s the greatest thing to ever happen to you!”
    Eden scoffed, taking a drag of her cigarette.
    “Wes is amazing,” Allison continued. “He cares about you. And stop smoking! Didn’t you promise him you were through with those Satan Sticks?”
    “I can’t quit now. Things are starting to happen for me! I just want to see where all this goes. If it works out and I join Clyde’s studio, then I’ll quit.”
    “If, if, if !” Allison teased. “Don’t always look to the next thing, Eden; you’ve been doing it your whole life. It’s a very bad habit.”
    “Oh yeah? Guess who I learned that from? You were the one goading me on,” Eden said, flicking her ash, annoyed. “You told me I could make it here as a model. Is it so wrong to hope the wish we hatched back home comes true? What’s so awful about looking to the next thing?” Eden asked.
    “I’ll tell you,” said Allison, staring down her best friend across the table. “You miss what’s right in front of you.”
    Everything appeared to be perfect with Wes: They made love at all hours, kissed in their rusty tub with Johnson’s baby shampoo as bubble bath, lounged outside