Excerpt from My Flawless Life by Yvonne Woon, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

"Interesting," Adam murmured. "I would have guessed CEO."

"CEOs wear black. Charity heads wear white."

Adam looked unconvinced. "Is that true?"

"Probably not, but it sounds right, doesn't it?"

Adam adjusted his glasses, a tic of his. He styled himself as a gentleman of sophistication and culture. I thought he looked like a newspaper man from the 1950s—a mixture of dapper and bookish. Most of our classmates found him pretentious and out of touch with contemporary

culture, which he took as homophobia and hatred of anything remotely feminine. "Men still aren't allowed to like beautiful things," he'd said, which was one of the traits I appreciated most about him—his dedication to beauty and how he took great pains to surround himself with it.

"Okay, what about her?" Adam said, nodding to a young woman standing next to an older man. "Third wife or daughter?"

I rolled my eyes. "Come on. Daughter."

"How do you know?"

"They look alike."

Adam squinted at her through his glasses. I was one of the only people at school who knew that he didn't actually need glasses and that the ones he wore were a prop with no prescription. Still, I indulged him and waited.

"You're right," he said.

That's when my phone vibrated. It was from a number I didn't recognize.

>I have a job for you.

Odd. I had gotten messages like it before, but normally they were phrased as requests.

>No one important.

Also odd.

>You'll take this one.

I tried to suppress my curiosity. It was probably just someone messing with me.

"Give me a second," I said to Adam.

"Another desperate soul with a problem that needs fixing?"

"You were once a desperate soul," I reminded him.

"I wasn't desperate," he countered.

"That's not how I remember it."

Adam pushed up his glasses. "I guess it's time for me to network. If Sarah from Columbia is a CEO, you owe me one unit of information."

"And if she's not?"

"Then you can add it to my tab."

I watched Adam put on a pleasant face and approach her. They talked for a moment, and when she turned to get an hors d'oeuvre from the table, he mouthed to me, You're too good at this.

I shrugged and turned back to my phone. A mystery person who claimed they had a job for me that I wouldn't refuse.

>Because it's about your best friend.

I felt my chest constrict.

>But you did.

I could see her across the room: Luce Herrera, a golden silhouette standing in front of one of the portraits, her face framed as though she were mounted on the wall. She was there with her friends, the five of them conspiratorial as they whispered among themselves, their faces partially lit by the picture lights like they were works of art.

She must have felt my gaze because she looked up. For a fleeting moment, her eyes met mine. I had once known her face better than I'd known my own, but now it was unreadable, a mask of itself.

I quickly looked away. After a moment, another message came in.

>Don't be so conspicuous. She doesn't know.

I froze, suddenly aware that I was being watched.

>Oh, don't look so scared.

I scanned the room, taking a mental inventory of who was there. Everyone in our class usually went to the alumni mixer, and so many of them were on their phones that it seemed impossible to single anyone out.

>I want you to follow Luce.

<I'm not a detective.

>But you are a fixer. And Luce is working on something that she needs help fixing.

>That's your job. Figure it out.

I paused, torn between curiosity and suspicion.

>But you do know me.

Excerpted from My Flawless Life by Yvonne Woon. Copyright © 2023 by Yvonne Woon. Excerpted by permission of Katherine Tegan Books. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.