By Harley Jane Kozak
Serial dater and greeting-card artist Wollie Shelley is going undercover in a media-training corporation suspected of video piracy, but if a lifeless physique seems at the company’s estate, she’s stuck up in a conspiracy that is going means past a few stolen DVDs.
Wollie Shelley isn’t satisfied approximately taking the activity as a “social trainer” at MediaRex, however the FBI makes her a proposal she can’t refuse. If she is of the same opinion to infiltrate the corporate, they’ll ensure that her schizophrenic brother may have a house on the federally backed midway condominium he’s come to like. So Wollie launches into instructing 3 international celebrities easy methods to take care of the customs of Beverly Hills, increase their English, and develop into Oprah-ready. And whilst a coyote-chewed corpse appears to be like within the MediaRex compound, Wollie realizes that her colleagues are concealing a few critical secrets and techniques in their own.
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Extra resources for A Date You Can't Refuse
Great,” I said. ” “No, as a graphic novel,” Joey said. “Since you're a graphic artist. Yeah, that's the ticket. You need to create a superheroine, not a clown. ” I shook my head. “Everyone's into superheroines all of a sudden, but I have no affinity for them. I don't want an adventure. ” “You can do this,” Fredreeq said. “The question is, should you? I vote no. It's Mercury retrograde, which is no time to sign contracts, and I do not like the sound of this job. Or these Russians. ” Fredreeq asked.
Donatella, meanwhile, had returned to her computer, her fingers clicking away at eighty words per minute, minimum. ” Grusha looked toward me. ” “For lunch? Of course. ” Donatella turned to me. “Wollie, this is Grusha. ” “Hello, Grusha,” I said. “I'm easy. No allergies, and I eat pretty much anything. Except beets. And I don't like sauerkraut. Or anything pickled. Oh, and liver. Not crazy about sausage either, for that matter. I had an unpleasant sausage experience once. ” Grusha shook her head, perhaps not wanting such intimate bio graphical details on a first meeting.
Donatella took the blazer from her. “One good thing,” she said. ” That was good news. I wondered how much of my job I owed to a skeletal resemblance to a dead America's Next Top Model reject. I was hoping to avoid Grusha's lunch, because after trying on Chai's clothes, it was clear I'd be better off weighing less. Fifteen pounds, minimum. Fortunately, none of Chai's new pants had yet been to the tailor; if they had, the waists wouldn't have fit a normal human being. In their unaltered state, they were almost big enough for me.