Let's Stay Together Read Online Free PDF

is down over six hundred points on the Internet Movie Database since your breakup, and you’re losing friends at all your Facebook fan sites, so I’ll be surprised if NBC even wants to hear your name.”
    “That star meter is a sham, and you know it,” Lauren said. “And as for Facebook, I don’t care. And you can’t wear out your welcome, Todd, if no one is there to welcome you. You have never had the inside track in New York.”
    “Oh, try to flatter me so I’ll help you,” Todd said.
    As much as I hate this man sometimes, I really need him now. “Just . . . make one more call,” Lauren said. “For me. For old times’ sake.”
    “For ancient times’ sake.”
    “I’m still younger than you are,” Lauren said.
    Todd sighed. “All right, I’ll make the call. But when SNL doesn’t pan out, and it won’t, you will do the reading for Gray Areas, right?”
    “Oh, all right. I’ll do the reading,” Lauren said. And either I will fix that script as I read it or I will botch it up as badly as I can so they don’t want me anymore.
    “They’ll be overjoyed to hear it,” Todd said. “Bye.”
    Click.
    “Wait!” Lauren yelled into the phone. He’ll forget to call SNL. I just know it.
    Lauren trudged to her bed and booted up her laptop. After reading and then deleting several screens of e-mails suggesting new boyfriends and even a few girlfriends, she came to the last page.
    A message from Patrick Alan Esposito. Nothing but a “Re:” in the title space. I am intrigued.
    She opened Patrick’s e-mail and smiled. If I ever need someone to talk to.
    “Patrick,” she said, “I need someone to vent to. I suppose that’s ‘talking.’ ”
    Patrick likes Crisp and Popp. He’s already wiser than ninety-nine percent of the television network executives who have ever lived. She laughed. Why am I laughing? Oh, I guess it’s because I’m about to vent to a stranger. I really need to vent to someone. I have to get some of this mess out of my head.
    She nodded at the screen. “Sorry, Patrick, but I have a feeling that this is going to get pretty heavy.”
    She started typing....

    Patrick:
    I hope you don’t mind if I vent for a bit. You see, I’ve had a seriously bad week. I’m warning you, though. It could get pretty ugly.
    No. It’s about to get very ugly. . . .

4
    A fter a long, cold late November day of unclogging sink traps, tinkering with water heater settings, and taking only four trips to Mrs. Moczydlowska’s apartment to make “the sound go away,” Patrick bypassed the deli and the lure of a delicious frozen burrito and a soda, climbed up the stairs to his apartment, 2B, and checked his e-mail.
    She wrote back.
    Again!
    Wow.
    She really wrote back.
    She wrote an epic!
    Okay, it’s not that long, but compared to most e-mails I’ve ever gotten, this one is long. She says it’s going to get ugly. Let’s see how ugly this is going to get. . . .

    First of all, I was engaged for three years to a bisexual man. That’s right. Don’t let his action roles fool you. He’s the modern Errol Flynn. He has sex appeal for everyone, but especially men.

    So Chazz is fake, Patrick thought. Lauren must be going out of her mind.

    He (I refuse to even write his name) is much more gay than straight, despite the lies he’s telling on TV. I didn’t know it until I caught him with two other men in our house only eight days ago. The One Who Shall Remain Nameless Forevermore gave me no signs that he was messing with men, and I feel so stupid.
    Because of him, I went to get tested for HIV five days ago.

    Oh, dear God, no, Patrick thought. No!

    How’s that for an outstanding way to end an engagement? I should get my test results back anytime now, and I am scared . . . to . . . death. Angry, too. Scared and angry. It’s hard to smile, you know? I’m trying, but I kind of have a possible extended death sentence hanging over my head, you know?
    Thank you for trying to help. At least YOU are. No one else is,