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Authors: Julie Kenner

Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths, #Romance, #General

The Prada Paradox

BOOK: The Prada Paradox
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Contents

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

EPILOGUE

Up Close and Personal with the Author

PRAISE FOR JULIE KENNER’S BREAK-OUT CODE-BUSTING SERIES

The Givenchy Code

“A fabulously fun heroine with a math-geek’s mind and a passion for fashion outwits and outplays a ruthless killer in this latest ingenious literary creation from Kenner, whose sharp sense of wit is the perfect accessory for this chic blend of chick lit and thriller.”

—Booklist

“A fantastic, sexy, fast read, full of intrigue, humor, and murder.”

—Reader to Reader Reviews

“Did you enjoyThe Da Vinci Code? Then you simply MUST read this! Do you love thriller novels that keep you glued to the pages? Then you simply MUST read this!”

—Huntress Book Reviews

The Manolo Matrix

“Julie Kenner has me hooked on this series! With her ability to build the thrills and chills to a climactic crescendo, Ms. Kenner keeps the action hot, tense, and very unnerving…. Not to be missed.”

—Romance Junkies

“The plot is inventive, complex and kept this reader engaged from start to finish…. The puzzles are outstanding.”

—Fallen Angel Reviews

The Prada ParadoxIS ALSO AVAILABLE AS AN EBOOK

Also by Julie Kenner:

The Givenchy Code

The Manolo Matrix

The Spy Who Loves Me

Nobody but You

AnOriginal Publication of POCKET BOOKS

DOWNTOWN PRESS, published by Pocket Books

1230 Avenue of the Americas

New York, NY 10020

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright Š 2007 by Julie Kenner

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020.

ISBN: 1-4165-3840-2

DOWNTOWN PRESS and colophon are trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

Visit us on the World Wide Web:

http://www.SimonSays.com

Dedicated to my friends in Los Angeles.

Thanks for the good times!

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

To Steve, research assistant extraordinaire.

THEPrada PARADOX

Chapter1

Someone put a bullet in my boyfriend’s brain!

As I race down the street, propelled by terror, I can still see the image in my mind, and the thought of it makes my stomach turn. The blood and gore on his pillow. The gaping hole above his ear.

My heart stutters, and a stitch burns in my side. Move, Mel, I think. Just move! I’m barefooted, and tiny stones poke into the soles of my feet. I ignore the pain and press on toward safety. Toward home.

I’m almost there, and I keep my focus on that simple green door. Reach the door, open the door, through the door. After that doesn’t matter. Not yet. Which is good, because right now my brain can’t process any more than those three simple commands. It’s too filled with terror and rage and confusion to digest rational thought.

Around me, bright light from fixtures hung precariously on steel poles casts dark shadows, giving this Manhattan street an eerie quality. I barely notice. Just as I barely notice the people standing nearby in clusters, walkie-talkies and cell phones silent in their hands. I glance over them, searching the crowd for the killer. I know deep down that he’s not there, but I shove that knowledge away and search. I have to be thorough. I have to be certain.

No one suspicious jumps out at me, and I allow myself one tiny glimpse of hope. My door isright there. Twenty yards. Fifteen. Ten.

And then I’m there. My hand closes around the doorknob, the metal cool against my hands. I twist the knob violently, then shove the door open. One step and I’m over the threshold and—

“Cut!” Tobias Harmon, the director, yells from across the street. “Beautiful, sweetheart! I think we got it this time! That was brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.”

I nod acknowledgment, but don’t look at him. I’m too busy shaking off the fear that I’ve been wallowing in for the last five takes.

My name is Devi Taylor. I’m an actress. And for me, this part is the role of a lifetime.

Chapter2

“This bit here,” I say to my assistant, Susie. “Does the dialogue sound cheesy to you?”

She takes the script and reads it, her mouth moving as her eyes skim over the words. After a second, one shoulder lifts daintily. “I dunno.”

“O-kay,” I say, patiently. “But what’s your gut impression? Did it feel natural? Do you think that’s really the way the conversation between Mel and Stryker went?” The scene we’re talking about is on schedule for tomorrow, our second day of principal photography. It’s the scene where they first meet, and Melanie Prescott (akamoi ) is absolutely certain that Matthew Stryker (the hero) is trying to kill her.

“Um, I guess so?”

I silently count to three, then tilt my head back so that I have a full view of her face. Wide eyes, lanky legs, overly bleached hair, completely vapid expression. Honestly, the next time my manager asks me to do him a favor and hire his wife’s cousin’s daughter’s college roommate as an assistant, I’m going to run as fast as I can in the opposite direction. Except, of course, he posed that question while we were at the Ivy on Ocean Avenue in Santa Monica, and the opposite direction would have had me body-surfing without a board.

In other words, I chickened out when I had the opportunity, and now I’m stuck with Indecisive Barbie.

“There’s not a right answer,” I say, hoping I sound encouraging. “The dialogue just sounds a little off to me. So I want to get your opinion, too.”

“Right. I get it. Thanks.”

“And?” With great restraint I manage not to make twirling “come on already” motions with my hand.

“I…well…um…Have you asked Blake?”

“No,” I say, unable to dodge the invisible steel bar that immediately straightens my spine. “I haven’t talked with him today.” A fact that I was particularly proud of since he’d dragged his sorry ass down to the backlot today, despite not being on the call sheet. I’d managed to avoid him since I arrived for my five a.m. makeup call, and really hoped that my winning streak would continue.

Another shrug from my wishy-washy assistant. “It’s just that, you know, since you play Mel and he plays Stryker, maybe it makes more sense for you to be asking him about the dialogue.”

Out of the mouths of babes.And I mean “babes” in the total Hollywood sense of the word. Blond. Stacked. You get the picture.

The irritating truth is that she’s right. I should be talking to Blake. Except, I don’t want to act opposite Blake, much less talk to him. Not anymore, anyway.

“So, like, do you want me to go see if Mr. Harmon needs you anymore today?”

“Sure,” I say, suddenly thrilled with the prospect of being left alone. “And could you do me a fav? I’m completely parched. Go track down an Evian and some lemon for me.” I happen to know that craft services ran out of lemon slices around eleven. She’ll be gone for hours.

She gives me a mini-salute and then leaves. I sigh and close my eyes, my thumb idly rubbing the edge of the script as my mind begins to drift. The reason I’m so pumped up about making sure the dialogue is perfect is that I know this scene’s going to be a tough one. Not only because of the emotional intensity required to nail a scene like that, but because of the personal history between me and Blake Atwood.

In the movie, Blake plays Stryker, an ex-marine turned reluctant bodyguard to Mel. In real life, Blake is my ex, a little fact that you probably already know if you’ve gone grocery shopping recently. Because despite my best efforts to keep my private life private, our entire relationship—from courtship to our recent pyrotechnical breakup—was played out on the covers of magazines ranging fromEntertainment Weekly toPeople toUs. My mother doesn’t even bother to call me anymore to find out what’s new in my love life. She just reads theEnquirer while standing in the checkout line at the grocery store.

And the coverage wasn’t limited to the tabloids and the weeklies. No, even the “classier” mags got in on the buzz. When we were cast to star in the movie together (and still quite cozy with each other), Blake did an interview withMaxim. I let my publicity team talk me into doing an interview and photo spread withVanity Fair. (That, of course, was a Very Big Deal, since everyone in Hollywood knows that I’ve been Miss Ultra-Private these days.)

BOOK: The Prada Paradox
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