The Haters by Robyn Harding EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Robyn Harding
- Language: English
- Genre: Thriller / Suspense
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 4.2 MB
- Price: Free
I LOCK THE BATHROOM door, hike up my gunmetal-gray skirt, and peel my
Spanx down to my knees. I have exactly six minutes to pee before I’m due
onstage. My bladder has always been nervous, and the two glasses of
champagne I’ve downed in quick succession may have been a mistake. But
the bubbles have softened my jangly nerves, made everything feel warm
and smudgy and effervescent. This is a celebration, after all. I mustn’t
forget that.
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I’ve never been comfortable being the center of attention. There were
fourteen people at my wedding, including Adrian and me. My master’s
degree in counseling was marked by take-out Thai food and a six-pack of
beer. And when I had Liza, I politely refused a baby shower, so my
colleagues delivered onesies, teddy bears, and swaddling blankets to my
windowless office, one by one. Twelve years later, my best friend, Martha,
threw me a divorce party.
She knew I’d never allow it, knew I thought it
was gross to fete the demise of an eighteen-year union, no matter how
unhappy we both were. I’d walked into the restaurant expecting a quiet
dinner with my oldest friend, only to be surprised by thirty drunk women
wearing pink feather boas and tiaras that spelled out DIVORCED AF. I’d had
no choice but to go along with it: to drink the sugar-rimmed Pink Señoritas,
to nibble on the penis-shaped cookies (why?), to dance the night away to
the female empowerment playlist Martha had curated. The failure of my
marriage was the biggest celebration of my life. Until now.
Wriggling my Spanx back into position, I hurry to the sink to wash my
hands. My reflection stares back at me, smoldering and dramatic. Liza did
my makeup, my glam, as she called it. At seventeen, my daughter has
turned her obsession with YouTube tutorials into a career as a makeup artist,
but I don’t feel like myself with these smoky eyes, the contoured hollows in
my cheeks, the nude glossy lips.
“You’re famous now,” Liza had teased when I’d expressed my
discomfort. “Time to step up your game.”
“I’m hardly famous,” I’d said, but I couldn’t help but smile. I felt proud
and emotional. My first novel, Burnt Orchid, has been out in the world for
two days. The manuscript I poured my soul into for almost three years now
sits on bookstore shelves, and it’s the achievement of my life.
When I’d first
gotten the publishing offer, it had felt like success, like winning the lottery
or, more aptly, the Olympics. After years of dedication, toil, and perfecting
my craft, it was the ultimate accomplishment. But now the book is real,
available for readers to buy. Or not. This is the culmination of a journey,
and the very beginning.
When I return to the narrow lounge with its dim lighting, eclectic décor,
and retro soundtrack, the party is in full swing. Theo approaches with a
flute of champagne. “How’re you holding up?” His hand is warm and
intimate on the curve of my back.
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