Read Cake for Free Online Page B

her.
     
    “Shut your filthy mouth.” Mads calls back as she changes. “I would kill to have your tits and ass. It’s way better than looking like a stick, which I have to constantly eat to ensure that the little I have stays.”
     
    “Damn you,” I laughingly call back.
     
    “Damn my fast metabolism that my super model mother gave me, who by the way, I haven’t seen in seven months. She’s in Europe ‘touring’ she tells the media, but the truth is, she’s staying away from the gossip rags about my father’s proclivity for young women. I’m still not speaking to the cheating dick.”
     
    “Hearing you call your dad a ‘dick’ skeeves me out. I would appreciate you referring to him in any other way.”
     
    “Not all of us had ‘Brady Bunch’ parents growing up. Hell, I would have settled for the ‘Adams Family’ over mine.”
     
    “Speaking of growing up, I remember a promise of hearing about a certain teenage heartthrob.” With my schedule, I haven’t had time to follow up with her about him. Honestly, I can’t believe I had almost forgotten about it. Walking into my bathroom, I see Mads primping in front of the mirror. Leaning against the sink, I stare intently. “Spill.”
     
    “I was wishing, and hoping, you had forgotten about that,” she says, applying my lipstick to her lips.
     
    “No such luck. So unless you want to have your killer wardrobe supplier cut off, I suggest you start squealing piggy.”
     
    “What can I say? The day I found out about my dad and Miss Teen Georgia, I bum-rushed him at his studio and really things get a little hazy at this point, as my evil twin took over and craziness ensued. Whatever I did or said must have pushed Nicky boy’s buttons, and now, I’m the object of his lust or so he says.” Stepping away, she turns towards me and places her hands on her hips. “He’s not my type, and that is that. I have tried repeatedly to get it through that inflated head of his, but it doesn’t surprise me that he’s not used to women telling him no. I’m not interested in being some conquest of his. So please, don’t listen to what he says or asks because you know me better than anyone. End of story,” she finishes and walks out.
     
    I really should do as she asks, but the small yearning to help Nick Andrews out, which may be warranted because of the spark of interest behind her eyes that she evidently can’t hide, has me considering not listening to her.
     
    “Move your ass, Bitch,” she yells.
     
    Mads spends way too much time with rappers.
    Way.
    Too.
    Much.
    Time.
     
    Walking towards her, I hear her whisper to Jonsie, “Cats rule and dogs die.”
     
    “No wonder he hates you,” I say over his hysteric barks.
     
    Mads offers to drive, and we swing by and grab a quick bite at a local deli. As we arrive, we actually find a decent parking space and only have to walk less than a block to the small gallery. Outside is a small media spot where partygoers have their photo taken for the local press. As much as I hate it, this is what sells for my boutique. Madison and I both dislike being in the paper, but Madison does it for me and never blinks an eye. That’s why I love her like a sister.
     
    Lights flash from all the cameras around us as people shout for information from those attending. We move in, fake smiles ready for the feeding frenzy.
     
    “What are you both wearing, Kylie?” a reporter asks.
     
    “Madison has on an Yves Saint Laurent bustier dress and Gianni Versace black patent leather booties. Myself, I am wearing a very rare Valentino haute couture dress from my private collection.” Smiling, I turn and walk inside, trying my best not to flee faster than normal.
     
    We both greet mutual friends as we walk through trying to admire the art. Sipping on a glass of wine, I stop to stare at a certain piece. I have to admit to falling in love with them all, but this one I adore. It’s a whimsical little girl with big soulful eyes