Novel & Cerita Brittney Atwood

“I’ll tell you when we are out of here.” She nodded. I glanced at Laurent and Ryan and they were both tipsy on red wine. I was ready to call it a night, but the moment we stood to leave, Ryan addressed Brittney. “You’re the designer behind the winter concept, right?” She blinked, caught off guard. “Yes…. I helped with the visuals.” He smiled, “impressive work. You have a strong eye, I hope we get a chance to work closely.” I stepped in between them before she could respond. “She’s got a full plate already but thanks.”

Ace's POV “Daughter of the popular business tycoon, Brittany Anderson, leaves groom hanging at the altar.” My secretary read out a headline from the tablet and glanced at me. “What does that say?” “Here it goes.” “She seemed so brave to have broken ties with the handsome CEO, Ace Miller. This is to show that the beautiful lady, Brittany Anderson, can do anything at all. She has proven.......” “Just get down to the comments.” I chipped in before she could finish.

I hadn't seen them all day. Just then the doors to the lunch hall burst open and in came Jessica and Rosey with the school's Queen Bitch, Brittney, all wearing totally pink outfits . Brittney is a long, skinny girl with fake blonde hair and blue eyes. She is a total Barbie, and the pink mini skirt she was wearing with a white crop top shirt and 6 inch pink heels made her the total fake Barbie. Jessica, who used to wear big baggy shirts and sweat pants, was now wearing a short, skin tight dark pink dress and long 6 inch white heels. Her black hair, which used to always be in a bun, now rolled down her back in big waves.

young Britney Lawson smiled as Damien climbed out of his car. The eighteen-year-old was wearing a tight pair of jogging shorts and a loose tank top, the sides open to show her black sports bra holding in her impressive bosom. The perky, young woman jogged past, her blonde hair trailing behind her. "Hey, Britney," Damien said. "How's your parents?" "Fine," she smiled. "How was your business trip?" "Successful. I'm eager to see Abby, though." "Oh, when did she get back?" Britney asked, pausing to jog in place.

On the eve of Independence Day, I made a reservation at an alpine lodge and rented a private yacht. I invited my boyfriend, Luke Anderson, my best friend, Ella Reid, and a dozen other friends along for the trip. We had just reached the dock when Ella passed her suitcase to me. “My skincare products are very expensive. Be careful not to ram the suitcase into anything.” Luke frowned and tossed the car key to me. “Buy an iced americano. Ella doesn’t like hot coffee.” Before I could speak, I suddenly saw a lot of floating captions appearing before my eyes. [Here it comes! This is the easiest-to-fool walking ATM in a romance novel!] [Does Harper really think everyone wants to spend Indepe

After the last time, it wouldn't be bad enough to say that we were more like friends now. Friends with benefits. I took his signal, closing up the large distance between us. He stood there looking all professional in his grey shorts and baseball hat- surrounded by a bunch of other people. "So here's our second lead actress!. Everyone, kindly welcome - Selene Woods" - he announced, watching my approaching figure. I straightened my black top as i bowed slightly, strands of hair falling over my face. "You know, i have heard about you before and watched some of your movies - i must say Selene, you're quite the talent".

Brittney whispered, clutching her water bottle. “Trouble,” someone murmured back, awestruck. “He’s hot as sin,” said a girl near the front. “Like, look at that jawline. And the scars? God.” “Those aren’t scars,” another one corrected. “They’re hickeys. Bruises.” “Who even gets hickeys like that in real life?” Avery asked with a scoff, though her voice held more thirst than judgment. “Someone who f*cks,” Brittney said bluntly.

She knocks on the door and it opens a moment later. Bridgette is in her mid-forties. She’s bottle blonde and has had way too much plastic surgery. Her lips are unnaturally plump, and her eyes look pinched from either a facelift gone wrong or a hell of a lot of Botox. Either way, the results are not pleasing to the eye. “It’s about time you got here,” she sneers. She looks me up and down and grimaces. “What’s he doing here?” “Gage is my…” Aubrey doesn’t seem to know how to answer.

Hilary brought the phone to her ear, stepping closer to the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the city skyline as she dialed the number of the vice chairman. “Hello? Genevieve? Yes, darling, it’s Hilary. No, I am absolutely not okay,” Hilary burst out, her voice dripping with fake tragedy, “I am sitting in the VIP pavilion at Jude Arvat. Brittany has been savagely assaulted. Yes! At school! By a new girl. Brittany’s arm is broken in three places.”

“Is that—wait, is that Nate Cooper? Are you two meeting up? Are you back together?” “No,” I said sharply. “We are not—” “Because there’s this whole thing online about you guys, and everyone’s been saying—” “We are NOT together. Please stop filming me.” She did not stop filming me. She took a step closer instead, pivoting the phone to catch Nate’s face over my shoulder. He had gone rigid behind me, one hand braced against the roof of the car next to mine, too close again without even realizing it. “Can I just ask one question?” the woman said breathlessly. “Just one quick one. How does it feel to be an Atwood? Like, what’s it LIKE? Because your brother Eric is, like—”