The Game Changer Read Online Free PDF Page A

not once Olivia had made up her mind about something. “Fine. Thank you, Liv.”
    “What are best friends for?” Olivia walked back to the pile of clothes on the floor and rifled through them. “I want you to pick out what you wanna keep, and we’ll donate the rest to Salvation Army or something.”
    Melody nodded and went to kneel on the floor beside Olivia. They created two piles—one of stuff to keep, and another for donations—and Olivia kept up a running commentary of what accessories would go well with what top and what skirt should be shortened.
    It wasn’t as painful as Melody anticipated. In fact, it felt almost therapeutic, as though by purging her closet she was somehow purging the negative energy she could feel swirling around them.
    “You know, it’s funny how life turns out,” Melody commented as they were putting the clothes to donate in a large garbage bag. “In high school we always thought I would be the first one of all our friends to settle down and get married, because that’s all I really wanted. Now almost all our old friends are getting married, having babies, buying houses, and I just broke up with a jerk I wasted three years on.”
    She sighed heavily and crammed more clothes into the bag, almost tearing through the thick plastic.
    “Those years weren’t wasted,” Olivia said. “You have a career you enjoy and that you’re good at; how many people can say that? You have a fantastic apartment, and now a fantastic roommate.” She grinned, coaxing a small smile from Melody. “So Rick was a dick. Consider it a learning experience. You know now what you don’t want in a guy, and you won’t settle for something because it’s familiar or comfortable.”
    Melody nodded slowly. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
    “Well, again, that’s what I’m here for. Man, you’re lucky to have me.”
    Melody laughed. She tossed a sweater in Olivia’s face, then laughed harder when Olivia screeched as the arms wrapped themselves around her shoulders. “Yeah. I really am lucky.”
     

CHAPTER 3
     
    On Wednesday when Melody got home from work, Olivia was sprawled on the couch reading. She had gone downstairs to Green Pea’s and bought a wide selection of books from young adult to mystery to romance. “Maybe I’ll be a writer,” she told Melody. “I know most of them have to have a day job at first to support themselves, but I have enough money to live on for at least a year.”
    The next afternoon when Melody arrived home, Olivia was in the kitchen, and it looked like there had been an explosion. The sink was overflowing with dirty pots, pans, and baking sheets, the counter was littered with an assortment of baked goods, and there were two more pots bubbling away on the stove.
    Olivia stood at the island feverishly chopping carrots into tiny pieces. Her honey-coloured hair was tied back in a sloppy ponytail with loose tendrils falling down her neck and into her eyes. She was wearing a blue and white striped apron over black yoga pants and a pale green tank top, and her face was red from exertion, except for patches that were smudged with flour.
    Melody stood in the doorway of the apartment and surveyed the mess with a mixture of horror and amusement. She knew she didn’t have that much cookware, so Olivia must have gone shopping at some point. There also appeared to be new dishes inside the frosted-glass cabinets on the far wall.
    Olivia hadn’t heard Melody enter the apartment because a U2 song was blaring from the stereo. Melody couldn’t hear Olivia singing, but her lips were moving, and her hips were swaying slightly in time to the music.
    Afraid to startle Olivia when she was wielding that knife—something else that was new, since all of Melody’s knives were in bad shape and needed replacing—she walked slowly into the apartment until she was in Olivia’s line of sight.
    “Oh, hey!” Olivia called over the music.
    “Hey,” Melody returned, lowering the volume on the