Laura Lowell leaned her head against the sofa armrest, lifting her eyelids slightly. "If you don't believe me, ask the makeup artist."
"Have I gotten fat?"
Zachary Redgrave looked at the makeup artist, his expression serious as he asked. It was as if he would bite her head off on the spot if she dared to say the word "fat."
The makeup artist gave an awkward little cough and shook her head against her conscience. "How could that be? Redgrave is the most handsome."
"Laura Lowell, did you hear that?"
"She's just scared of you. She's afraid you'll give her a hard time at work, so she had to pay you a compliment. Seriously, I'm advising you to stop eating. You know what they say—getting fat ruins everything."
"Have you got nothing better to do?"
"Just telling it like it is."
Zachary Redgrave was so furious he could have dropped dead. How did he end up with a friend like this? What rotten luck.
