Take Two (10 page)

I
contemplated playing sick to avoid going out.
I hated
going to
parties, especially la
unch parties. The
debut product was the topic of dis
cussion for all of five minutes,
and the remaining hours were dedicated to watching snobby people interact with other snobby people.

The press
always
did their best to create
massive
stor
ies out of the smallest moments:
“
Tom Cruise danced with Mariah Carey!
”
“
Brad Pitt drank two cocktails!
”
An
d the rest of the partygoers took advant
age of the necessary open bar.

I flipped open my invitation card and
read the
description: “You are cordially invited to join Miss Selena Ross and her new
est
fragrance
Forever Young
at
the
renowned
Roseland
B
all
room
. Bask in the
splendor of
the softest
floral notes. Escape to your earliest memories. Live like you’ve never lived before.
Be bold.
Be fearless. Be
Forever Young
.”

Selena R
oss’ new perfume was supposed
ly
all the rage
. O
ur team had reviewed it and gi
ve
n
it an A rating
.

I was
pretty
sure Selena
had
absolutely
nothing to do with the scent’s production, but I’d watched an interview where she gushed over
how she
“personally
mixed
the wonderful and sultry floral notes.”

I assumed
Matt Sterling would be
at the
party
,
and
after one too many encounters,
I was determined to avoid him at all costs.

I tried on
the dress I would’ve worn
at my wedd
ing reception: a
short and
backless
satin
dress with
a pleated waist and
spiral
organza waves
. I
put on
a couple of sparkling bangles
and the
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
necklace.
I strapped
on
my silver
five inch
Jimmy Choos
and looked in the mirror.

Sean would’ve loved this…

I
held up my left hand and stared
at my
engagement
ring.
It was still beautiful, still a
reminder of
how much I thought he loved me.

I
was slowly starting
to accept
that
Sean’s love was past tense. He
was never
coming back for me. He had someone else.

I carefully
twisted
the rin
g off my finger and placed it on the
dresser
.
I eyed
myself in the mirror again and picked at my hair. It was red
how I liked it,
but it still wasn’t me.

If I was going to go to some lame party, I figured I might as well look my best. I
took off
the
dress and accessories
and placed them in
my bag
.

I
called down to the hair salon
and
told them it w
as an emergency.

I
t was 8:55 when the stylist finished my hair and makeup. I threw on my clothes in the salon’s back office and rushed outside to meet the
town car.

I
asked the d
river to drop me off a couple
feet past the
front
entr
ance so
I
could slip
past the red carpet
and paparazzi
.
I was sure n
o on
e knew who the hell I was,
but I didn’t want to be background matter
in any celebrity
’s
photos.

The doorman looked
me up and down as I approached.

“
G
-G-G
ood evening,” he stuttered.
“
Forgive me for asking but w
hat’s your name Miss
?”

“Melody Carter,” I
handed him my invitation.

“I’m so sorry
for asking
. I’m new. I didn’t get a chance to memorize all the
pictures yet
.
Enjoy your night
,
Miss Carter
.”

Why is he apologizing to
me like
I’m
a celebrity?

“Thank you,” I gave him a fak
e smile and walked inside to a packed hallway. S
tars from every entert
ainment realm were standing
around
and posing for pictures—a
reminder of why
I never cam
e out to these types of things.

I pushed past Rihanna and Mila Kunis
and made my way to the ladies room
.
While
I
stood in line waiting to check myself in a mirror,
I noticed nearly every passerby was
giving
me the once over.

What is it? Why
do these people
keep staring at me?

When I finally got my chance to stand in
front of the mirror, I saw why: I did look like a celebrity.
The stylist
had done my hair and make-up to
absolute
perfection. I
barely recognize
d
myself.

My cheeks were blushed
pink
and my lips were
painted in
a vibrant red
.
My hair was styled
in
a sl
eek and detailed
French bun
with
glittering hair
pins
.
I closed
one
of my
eye
s
to see
where she
’d placed dark
dramatic
eye shadow and
thick
faux lashes.

Wow…Too bad I’m leaving in thirty minutes…

I pushed past more celebrities and made my way into the ballroom. I couldn’t help but to
be in awe
as I wandered around.

Everything was
bathed in whi
te:
long airy
d
rapes
fell
f
r
o
m the ceiling
to
the floor, tables s
at
in silk
with ornate crystal centerpieces
,
and
several
marble fou
ntains spouted sparkling water.

Waiters wearing
black
tuxedos held platters of wine
and h’ordeuvres
high
above t
heir shoulders.
Silver framed photographs of Selena’s
Forever Young
perfume stood on tall platforms,
shiny
chandeliers shimmered against the bare ceiling, and waist high candles illuminated the stage near the back of the room.

I stood by one of the fountains
,
running my fi
ngertips across the cool marble,
a
nd felt someone watching me.
I
slowly turned
around.

Matt Sterling
? Matt Sterling
is staring at me!

I moved across the room and
found
m
y coworkers.
As
I approached them
,
they mumbled variations of “
Hey” and “How
are you?”
They were too involved in their own conversation to ask me much else.

I tried saying “Oh really?” and “Yea
h
” every few seconds to seem like I was a part of their group, but it was no use. I was invisible to them.

Though none of them ever admitted it, they weren’t too fond of m
e. According to what Sophie
had
once overheard, t
hey felt that even though I was good writer, I was too young to be
such
a lauded critic.

“Having trouble finding someone
talented
to talk to?”
a
deep
voice
said from behind
.

“Clearly,” I turned around and was face to face with Matt Sterling.

He smiled his infectious smile and I
nearly
melted
.
The top buttons of his white shirt were
undone,
his hair
was
combed away from his face
, and he was wearing a light stubble.

Definitely the “I would sleep with you in a heartbeat sexy” character…

“What brings you out
tonight
, Miss Carter
?”

“I was forced,” I
felt myself staring at him and looked away.

“
Well, I’m glad you were
forced
.
Can I get you a drink?”

Did he just say he
was
“glad” I was here?

“Cranberry juice.”

“Just c
ranberry juice?
N
o wine?”

“I’m no
t much of a drinker,” I lied
.

H
e nodd
ed and walked away.

Okay, time to go!

I pushed my way through th
e crowd,
stopping every ten seconds to wait for
someone to have a picture taken,
and headed for the exit
.

“Melody?
” Mr. Maxwell
grabbed my shoulder
. “
Wow!
You look
beyond
exceptional tonight!
Don’t you feel better being out
of the house
?”

Ecstatic.

“S
ure,” I forced a smile.
“I’m having the time of my life.”

“Come, take a picture with the rest of
your friends
.” H
e led me over
to
a
group
of my coworkers
, the same group tha
t ignored me minutes
ago.

I stood
off
to the side of the group, but
he
pushed me to the front.

“Every
one smile!” the photographer yelled.

I put on my bes
t smile and held it for
ten
blinding
snaps.

“I’m running to the ladies room,
Mr. Maxwell.
I’ll be right back.”

“We’ll be on the dance floor!
” he shouted. “
I’ll save you one!”

I
continued to stroll
towards the exit
,
becoming increasingly irritated
at
the
tipsy celebrities who
were moving at a glacial pace.

“
Here’s your c
ranberry juice,” Matt Sterling
stepped
in front of me.

“Thank y
ou,” I took a sip. “This isn’t c
ranberry juice
,
Mr. Sterling.”

“
Call me
Matt
please
.
The wait
er
left to get more
. I thought I saw you leaving so I figured I’
d get you grape juice
for now
.”