Take Two (24 page)

“R
emember that the woman
standing in the background is the one
who will have
to pick up all the pieces.

“
Your friend forever,

“
Melody Carter
.
”

I read the sentence about the “handsome g
uy
” and “soul searing
kiss” over and over and laughed
.

I sent Joan on a two day
investigation mission
and as usual
,
she delivered.
I
was
sitting
a
cros
s the street from a large stone
apartment
complex
, waiting for someone to
leave
.

I
n two hours I
’d eaten two bags of
chips
, a cheesesteak
sub
, and a box of Oreo cookies. I was beginning to believe that no one lived in that building until I
saw a woman appro
aching the door.

I jumped out of the car and rushed over.
“Excuse me
,
Miss? C
an I ask you for a favor?”

“I don’t have any money,” she fiddled with her keys.
“Try the people on th
e Upper East
Side.”

“I’m not asking for money
ma’am,” I stepped in front of the door.

“Matt Sterling?”

Damn.
I thought the baseball cap and
shades would be
enough
today
…

“Umm no. Well
yes,” I took off
my shades. “I need a huge favor.
”

I paced the
eight
eent
h
floor
landing for at least twenty minutes. When I finally got a hold of
mysel
f, I knocked on the door.
There
was no answer. I knocked again.

“I’m coming! Give me a second!”
Melody’s voice cried out
.

She
swung the door open
. “Yes? How may I—what
are you doing here?”

“Returning this,” I h
anded her a business card.

“My realtor’s card? Um
thanks?
I
bought
the apartment so
I
don’t think I need that
anymore.
”

“You dropped it the day
you ran away from me. You’re lucky some stran
ger didn’t pick it up and
track you down.
”

Her
eyes widened
and
she
took a step back
.

That’s right.
You’re not getting away from me today.

I sensed
she wasn’t going to initiate things. “You know, I
c
ould sue you.”

“For what
?
”

“For libel. For mentioning me in your article t
he other day
.”

“
Libel?
I never said
your name
.
Besides
,
how do you know I was referring to you?”

“I don’t.
Are you going to invite me in?
Isn’t that a courtesy when
someone
returns
something
that belongs to you
?
”

Invite me in!

She blushed
.
“
Sure
. You have to leave in five minutes though.
”

“And why is that?”

She didn’t answer my question. She
just
held the door open
and let me inside.

Her apartment was
different from what I’d i
magined. It was airy and spaciou
s
. E
verything was white. L
arge win
dows
encompassed
the far wall,
and a
freshly painted
fire place
sat
in the corner.

I noticed there was no furniture in the room,
only
tons
of
un
opened
boxes
.

“
Would you like some water?”
she asked.

Before I could answer, she disappeared. She came back
seconds
later wearing a different shirt. She avoided my eyes
and
handed me a bottle of water.

“T
hank you
.
T
h
is is a
really
nice place.
I had no idea movie critic
s
did so well for themselves.
”

“More like people who return their
really
expensive
engagement rings,
”
she sighed.
“Most movie critics live modestly.”

“I see
…
Is there a reason you keep running from me?”

“Running from you? What do you mean?”

“Every time I’ve tried to talk to you, ask you out, and more rece
ntly kiss you, you run away
. Just so you know,
I
don’t g
ive up
easily
.”

Her jaw dropped and she turned away in
an
attempt to hide it. I wasn’t going to say
another word. It was her turn.

“
You’re
get
ting
married
,” she
finally looked at me
.

God, not this again! Just tell her!

“Wha
t are you doing tomorrow night
?”

“Writing more than likely.”

“Can I come back over around eight?” I
glanced
at my watch. “You
know, since you said I only have
five minutes with you tonight?”

I took the
blushing
and silence
to be a yes.

“It looks like you’re still unpacking things,”
I walked over to the door.
“Can you take out all
your
pots and pans before tomorrow night?
Maybe we could
make
—
”

“I
only have two.
”

“What? Why don’t you—”

“I don’t cook.”

“Oh.
I guess I’ll bring my things over
then
. I’ll cook for you.”

She
tucked
her lips
in
to avoid smiling. I wanted to
p
ush
her against the
door and kiss her
,
but I held back.

“Good night
Melody.”

“Good night
.
Thank you for the Skittles.”

“You’re very welcome.”

I floated through the next day. A
ll I could think about was my
date with Melody
later
.

Joan had to snap her fingers several times to get my attention during
my
tuxedo fitting. I was
too busy
dreaming about how the night would go, hoping we
c
ould spend
more
night
s
of the
week together.

“Mr. Sterling!” Joan
screamed.

“What?”

“Mr. Giornetti is trying to
ask you how the sleeves feel
.”

“Oh,”
I shook my arms
. “They feel great.
This is a really nice suit.”

Mr. Giornetti smiled and took a step back. “I’m very particular about my work, Mr. Sterling. I want to be sure that this is the best suit I’
ve
designed
so far
. Will
you
be a
ble to do another
fitting
once I’ve properly sewn the sleeves? Mr. Sterling?”

“He’ll be here,” Joan sighed. “You can
go
over potential
dates with me.”

After the tuxedo fitting, Joan had the driver take me to
New Jersey
to buy food for the night
.
I didn’t
feel like dealing with
pap
arazzi while grocery shopping.

“Do you know i
f she has any food allergies
?” Jo
an placed a turnip in the shopping cart
.

I wonder if she likes Italian food…

“Can I authorize
a double raise
for myself
?”

Is that too romantic
? Does that make it seem like I’m desperate? Why am I so nervous? This
can’t be
normal
...

“Oreos and Cheese Nips?
” Joan shook the
cart
, snapping me out
of
my thoughts.

“What
’s
that
Joan?”

“All you have
so far
are Oreos, Cheese Nips, and a turnip
.
And the turnip is mine.”

“I’m so sorry Joan
. I’m out of it.
I’m
never been this
nervous and
—”

“What do you plan on making?”

“I was thinking something Italian?”

“Too romantic.”

“French?”

“We’re in a grocery store, not a specialty market.”

“
American?”

“Nothing says ‘I like you’ more than a greasy hamburger.”

“Come on
,” I laughed
. “Help me out here.”

“Fine. Go back to the car.”

“But I—”

“Trust me. You won’t be much help anyway.”

I laughed and walked down the condiments aisle.
Only a few
fans approached me and asked
fo
r my aut
ograph. T
he cashiers
waved
and took pictures with their phones
.

I mixe
d the glaze for our
chicken
as Melody
sat
quietly
on a barstool
.
She was dressed in a simple black shirt and jeans but she still looked
sexy
.

Would she get mad if I
suggested that we j
ust skip dinner?

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a Southern woma
n who couldn’t cook,” I smiled
.

“My mom tried to show me all the ti
me when I was growing up, but i
t was boring to me
. How’d you learn?”

“My dad. He was a
cook at a diner for a long time.
He used to steal the seasonings and ingredients we couldn’t afford.”

“He died?”

“
Yeah. L
ung cancer.”

“Oh...”

“Don’t look so sad
. H
e died happy
,”
I poured the glaze over our food
and sat across from her. “What’s your favorite food?”

“Candy.”

“You’re joking.”

“
No,
I’m a candy addict. That’s why I have
all those vases of sweets
in
my
office. The Skittles you sent
are
already gone.”

I couldn’t stop laughing. “A
candy
addict?”