Read Selling Grace: A Light Romance Novel (Art of Grace Book 1) for Free Online Page B

there'd been something a bit different about Portia. While I was happy to run around with my hair all snarled up like a rat's nest, Portia always kept her long, nearly black hair falling down over her shoulders in smooth waves that the rest of the girls on the playground secretly envied. Even as a child, she always projected the idea that she had everything under control, that she knew how to move smoothly through life while the rest of us splashed and floundered.
    In high school, she'd been the dark-haired seductress who kept half a dozen boys charmed around her little finger. I watched her with open-mouthed amazement as I made my own clumsy way through three or four boyfriends, most of the presumptive relationships falling apart and sputtering out after just a few months. I didn't know how Portia managed to keep so many men interested in her with what seemed like next to no effort on her part.
    Perhaps in other circumstances, I would have become Portia's preferred target of ridicule. The two of us were so different, after all; I was shorter and stouter, my body growing out in curves while hers extended into long, graceful limbs. By our senior year, Portia looked like she'd just stepped off of the model's catwalk, while I appeared more like I ought to be dressed in black and operating the spotlights from the shadows.
    But instead of teasing and attacking me, Portia apparently decided that I needed a good best friend, someone to help me avoid the worst of the potholes on my road of Life. She took on this mantle for herself, always doing her best to steer me clear of the next upcoming disaster.
    To my surprise, I think Portia really enjoyed it, too. She often rolled her eyes at my antics, but I think that I helped her to live vicariously, that she got to enjoy activities she'd never consider for herself by listening to my breathless descriptions. After all, a confident, composed woman like Portia would never drunkenly wander over to a hot guy in a bar and brag about how she could almost nearly fit a pool ball in her mouth. Me, however? After a few big mugs of beer, it sounded like a hilarious idea!
    "The rest of the day at the Halesford Gallery proved to be nearly as boring as the morning," I picked up after a minute. "I did have a couple old ladies come wandering in, and one of them bought a little glass pendant, but that's really about it. So much for my idea of earning tons of commission by selling expensive art to high-class folks."
    Portia laughed out loud. "Becca, you'd stick out like a sore thumb among the upper crust, and that's a good thing," she said. "You're too genuine, too straightforward, too... too you! And while the Halesford Gallery does have some nice pieces, I don't exactly think that all the wealthy elites of the world are flocking out to Davis, California to purchase the artwork with which they'll decorate their multi-million dollar homes."
    "Too bad," I grumbled, reaching for my wine and finishing off the glass. "That's what I need to find, if I'm going to have a hope of paying back Barry."
    Portia leaned back in her seat, flipping her hair back over her shoulder with a practiced, elegant twist. I watched, trying not to feel envy as I considered how I couldn't hope to pull off such a gesture with my own frizzy, wavy strands. "How's that going, again?"
    I sighed. "Well, all the paperwork is finally signed and filed, but I'm still on the hook for my half of the mortgage, after the house equity. And it's not looking pretty."
    "What's the damage?"
    I thought back to the pile of letters sitting on my counter, letters that I'd dropped there and refused to pick up again, as if by avoiding them I could avoid all the consequences that they described as well. "A bit over ten thousand dollars," I confessed.
    Portia winced. "And that's after accounting for all the assets that you contributed to the marriage?"
    "What assets? Portia, I was a naive young girl just out of college - I barely had two dollar bills to rub