Take Two Read Online Free PDF Page B

be my office. Upon entering the room, I nearly broke down.
    The pictures we bought while vacationing in Greece were still hangi ng on the wall. The window coverings we purchased in Italy , the handmade beige and ivory satin drapes , wer e still flowing down to the floor.
    The rest of my belongings were lined against the bay window on the far end of the room . One of my charm bracelet s , the last one Sean and I made together , was lying on the floor. I scoop ed it up a nd rubbed each of the charms: plane, film reel, piz za slice, fountain pen , and a baby bottle .
    I once told Sean that when the time came, we could turn my office into a nursery. I told him how I saw us painting the room together, traveling to Europe to find new photographs, and buying only the best baby furniture. I remembered him laughing as I told him this, smiling at the thought of our future together.
    “Would you like some wi ne?” blonde bitch asked.
    WHAT?
    “No thank you. I’m just going to get started if you don’t mind . ”
    She looked as if she wanted to say something more, but she nodded her head and walked away .
    The nerve.
    I pulled out a duffle ba g and stuff ed it with dresses and shoes. I stacked everything else in the center of the room and made a list of what I was leaving for Sophie to retrieve tomorrow.
    After an hour of organizing, I pulled the duffle bag over my shoulder and walked down the hallway . I spotted blonde bitch reading a book in the kitchen.
    “Woman to woman,” I dropped the duffle bag onto the floor. “I need to ask you something.”
    “Yes?” she looked up at me.
    “Did yo u sleep with my fiancé before my wedding?”
    “Yes.”
    “Did you know that he was engaged?” my voice cracked.
    “Yes.”
    “And you didn’t see a problem with that?”
    “Of course I did. But I just knew that he and I—”
    I raised my hand. “I just needed to know how little of my respect you deserved.”
    I pic ked up the duffle bag an d headed outside to hail a cab.

 
Chapter 6
    Matt
     
    The interview with GQ was more entertaining than I thought it would be. The interviewer didn’t act like he knew me personally and actually inquired a bout things that mattered to me: philanth ropy, dancing, and fine dining.
    Only one of his questions bothered me: “You’re highly successful, you’ve clearly found love, and are surrounded by people who care about you. If you died today, will you have accomplished all you wanted in life?”
    I gave some bullshit response, but I kn ew that the real answer was no.
    I’d spent the past two years committed to someone I could barel y stand. I spent the past four acting in films that could’ve been written by a group of high school girls. I surrounde d myself with people who said “y es,” to everything I asked, and as far as the “ clearly found love” part? A t twenty seven? I severely doubted that.
    A f ter the interview, I kept on my Tom Ford suit and had my driver take me to the building that housed The New York Appeal .
    The ashen black building towered over ev ery business on the block. I t didn’t look like the type of building where creative people worked. Then again, Melody Carter worked there.
    “M-M-Matt Sterling?” the receptionist greeted me.
    “That’s me,” I flashed my smile. “I have a meeting with Melody Carter this afternoon. Is she still available?”
    “A meeting with Melody Carter ?” she tilted her head to the side.
    H as no one ever seen this woman?
    “Yes. Melody Carter,” I enunciated each syllable.
    “Hold on one second Mr. Sterling ,” she picked up her phone. “Hello Sophie? This is reception down on the main floor. Does your boss have any meetings scheduled for this afternoon? Okay…I see. Sir, Miss Carter doesn’t have any meetings scheduled for the rest of the month.”
    Damnit.
    “ Well, it’s clearl y a misunderstanding on my part. Is there any way I could go up there and say hello anyway?”
    “Not without a meeting. I’m sorry.