All Eyes On Her

All Eyes On Her
Poonam Sharma

In this town, nice gets you nowhere… As a junior associate at the most-sought-after marital mediation and divorce boutique in Beverly Hills, Monica is part mediator, part lawyer, part marriage therapist and all celebrity babysitter. She’s so good at her job that she’s handling the fi rm’s superstar clients Cameron and Lydia Johnson—Hollywood It couple Camydia.Although things would be easier if the only other female associate would stop sabotaging her career, and if the drama queen she refers to as mother wasn’t moving back home! When the latest Camydia scandal breaks wide open, it’s time for Monica to save the day, to don her Prada cape and matching bag, then wreak havoc on her offi ce rival and run circles around the paparazzi. Everyone’s watching to see what Monica will do… hey, are those claws on that French manicure?

All Eyes on Her

Poonam Sharma

Contents

Acknowledgments

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven

Chapter eight

Chapter nine

Chapter ten

Chapter eleven

Chapter twelve

Chapter thirteen

Chapter fourteen

Chapter fifteen

Chapter sixteen

Chapter seventeen

Chapter eighteen

Chapter nineteen

Chapter twenty

Chapter twenty-one

Chapter twenty-two

Chapter twenty-three

Chapter twenty-four

Chapter twenty-five

Chapter twenty-six

Chapter twenty-seven

Epilogue

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

My thanks…

To the females who have made my life difficult, because

you taught me how to protect myself and, incidentally, gave

me another idea for a book.

To my editor Kathryn Lye, whose enthusiasm over the

evil eye concept convinced me that I was onto something.

And, of course, to my agent Lorin Rees, who although he is male, always seems to appreciate what I am trying to say.

one

IT IS BETTER TO BE ENVIED THAN IT IS TO GO UNNOTICED, MY mother’s voice echoed in the back of my mind. And I would have agreed with her on principle; however, if I leaned any farther to the left to avoid being seared by Stefanie’s jealous gaze in that Friday morning meeting, I’m sure I would’ve toppled right off of my chair. For the record, there were eight other junior associates at our Beverly Hills law firm hoping for the same two promotion slots. I was handling a key client, and I did take my career very seriously. But even I wasn’t cocky enough to believe that Stefanie’s ill will had anything to do with my superior job performance. Rather, I knew that my being the only other female candidate was the reason why she made a habit of watching me as if there were a bull’s-eye centered on my forehead.

“Interesting choice of footwear for a firm-wide meeting,” she had sneered in the elevator an hour before. As if my open-toed pumps were too much for the office. Luckily, I knew better. These emerald green Diors were as suitable as they were scrumptious.

Maybe she just didn’t like me. And if so, then I really didn’t have the time to wonder why. Being the only Indian girl in my Hermosa Beach high school taught me to let the curious stares of others roll right off my back. It was just one of the many side effects of never quite fitting in.

Although I’d never actually done anything to Stefanie the office tension was becoming a problem. How obvious could she be? And why would anyone choose to wear their emotions on their sleeve for everyone to see? To me, that would’ve been like wearing my naughty-nurse costume to a law school reunion. Or my bra as a hat. Completely illogical. It’s not that I was dead inside. It was just that I’d learned to not let my feelings run amok. The casual observer might’ve assumed that since I didn’t react, I didn’t care, but I consoled myself with the knowledge that at least my fiancé, Raj, knew better.

Or…well…he used to.

Judging by his recent silent treatment, maybe Raj needed a reminder? I glanced down at my BlackBerry for the eighth time that morning. No new messages.

Two weeks, I thought. And still not a word from him. Men are such women sometimes.