Take Two (6 page)

“Althou
gh Portman
’s character isn’t into
“
an
y guy with less than an M.B.A.,
”
Sam is desperate to pursue her because
“
she’s unlike anyone
[
he’s
]
ever met before.
”

“If by saying that he meant
someone who has the capacity to read, then Mr. Sterling probably has this
dilemma
in real life as well. Hopefully
one day he’ll hire someone in his entoura
ge who is capable of knowing a dud script
when they see it.

“I digress. Halfway into the film, Mr. Sterling
flashes his claim to fame, his set of perfectly oiled abs
—a mere foreshadowing of what’s to come: He takes his shirt of
f while walking down the street. H
e takes it off while shooti
ng “difficult angles.
”
A
nd yes, h
e takes it off when he first wakes up in the morning. In fact, the best actor in this film
is
his T-shirt. E
ven it k
nows that the key to escaping mediocrity
is getting away from
Matt
Sterling.

“Someone
who isn’t so lucky? Natalie Portman
. Her character has the daunting du
ty of falling in love with him.

“
If you must see
Summer Nights
, see it w
hen it finds its way into a $1
Red Box
rental
machine and not a second before.”

“Le
t me guess. Melody Carter
?” I sighed.

“Yes
sir.”

I hated Melody Carter. She was the worst type of movie critic—the type
that
interw
o
ve
my
personal life
into
her
“professional”
reviews, the type that found a way to get under my skin every single time.
Al
though she was extremely rude and crass, the
movie-going
people
of New York
City
took her drivel very seriously.

I
’d once
wo
ndered what she looked like.
I
googled her
but only her work appe
ared, no pictures, no Facebook.

She’s
probably
hideous
…
and fat
.
That’s it! She’s fat and ugly
and she just wants everyone to be as miserable as she is
! I ought to pay her a visit and
put her in her place!

“Ge
t me a meeting with Melody
Carter
please,
”
I sat up.

“Sir, it’s we
ll known that Miss Carter hardly
meets with anyone in
the industry. She doesn’t even
attend
premieres or
advanced screenings.”

So she IS fat and ugly!

“Well, could you at least get me the address to her office?”

Melody

I hugged my parents before turning away and walking into Memphis
International. I knew they
wanted me to stay another week, but I needed to get back to work.

I rolled my eyes w
hen the desk agent
said
“Have a safe flight Mrs. Scofield,” but I didn’t correct her. Inste
ad
,
I typed a note into my phone
:
“Get Melody Carter put back on license
and credit cards.
Make sure marriage license is annulled.”

This ti
me I was wearing matching shoes,
cheap Old Navy flip flops,
and I was proud of myself for being slightly more functional. I didn’t bother staying up to listen to the flight attendant
’s safety speech
or
watching any other passengers.

I drifted into a deep sleep and didn’t awake until the flight attendant let me know that I was once again, the last passenger on the plane.

I took my tim
e walking around La Guardia
airport
, sto
pping inside of several news shops, buying books I had no interest in reading. I sat down at McDonalds, forcing myself to eat a box of chicken nuggets,
making
myself
do something that didn’t remind me of Sean.

“Miss Carter! Miss Carter! Over here!” I heard Sophie’s voice as I walked past baggage claim.
I looked over my should
er and saw her
long brown curls
bouncing as she jumped up and down.

“Sophie?
” I tried to sound polite
.
“W
hat are you doing here?”

“Mr. Maxwell told me to get the town car to
take you home when you landed
.”

I don’t have a home to go to…

“I
need
to go by the office
first.
”

“Mr. Maxwell insisted that you
go home and rest for a day. Those were his exact words
ma’am,” she
turned red and
nervously darted her eyes back and forth.

I didn’t say a word. I looked Sophie up and down, folding my arms and giving her the coldest look I could manage. She
withered under my glare, averting her eyes to the floor and shifting her weight from foot to foot.

I
hated being mean to Sophie. I
gave in. “
Fine.
Tell the driver
to
take me
to
Trump SoHo
.”

S
ophie frowned and nodded her head
. “Follow me.”

I
knew
Mr. Maxwell was
trying to make sure I was completely sane before returning, but I was annoyed. I needed to return to work to not only catch up on some projects, but to make hot
el reservations for the next few
weeks. I’d sold my condo months ago, and I needed a place to stay while I shopped for a new one.

When we pulled up to Trump SoHo
, the driver opened my door and extended his hand.

“Thank you sir,” I said.

He tipped his hat and closed the door. Sophie ro
lled the window down and smiled.
“I
’ll see you tomorrow
,
Miss
Carter.
”

I walk
ed inside
and saw
that the
hotel’s
lobby
was mo
re
intimate
than
I remembered
:
The
towering
ceiling gave way to
chocolate colored columns
that were
flanked by warm light
-
boxes
and
soft
brown furniture.
There was a slight
glow
in the room, accentuated by
dark wall panels
and slender windows.

Though no other guests were waiting
at the front desk
, all
of
the agents
w
ere
busy talking on the phone.

A bellman stepped in front of me.
“How may I help you
Miss?”

“I need t
o speak to the general manager
. It’s an emergency.”

“Certainly,” he said and signaled for me to follow him down a lo
ng hallway
. “What is your name
Miss?”

“Melody Sco—Melody Carter,” I stammered.

“Wait here
please,”
he stepped inside a room
concealed by frosted glass
.

I took a
deep breath and waited
ten minutes before Ryan Warren came out of the room. He was
just as I remembered him—
tall and
muscular,
messy brown hair, and
bright b
rown
eyes
that could see right through me.

“Melody?
What are you doing here? I thought you would be halfway around the world with Mr.
I Could Buy New York I
f I Wanted To
by now.”

“We never got married
,
” I forced a lump back
down my throat. “Well, we had the
wedding
and we were about to get married
but—”

“I’m so sorry
,” he hugged me. “What can I do for you?”

Don’t
cry…
Don’t cry…

“
I
really
need
a place to stay for a couple of
we
eks while I search for a condo
,
and I was hoping for a discount. I know you don’t—”

“A discount?” he scoffed. “Melody, I would never charge you for anything. You know that.”

Maybe I should’ve dated him after all
.

“Thank you so much
!”

“It’s not a problem. I’ll even put you in one of our penthouse suites. My wife
helped to
design
them
so I’m sure she’d be upset if I d
idn’t take the chance to show one
off.”

Maybe not.

“I really appreciate this,” I wiped away a tear. “If you ever need a mention in the paper or anything I swear—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he kissed my hand a
nd led me back to the lobby.

I
sat
in a cab trying
to calm
my shaking hands. I’d
texted Sean earlier to let him know I would be coming over to get
the rest of my
things. I
asked him not to be there.

When the cab dropped me off, I stood in front of the brick brownstone
and reminisced: Sean and I
picked out the
yellow
roses
and hydrangeas that sat
underneath the windows. We picked the
front
door with frosted
glass and gold trim. We
e
ven
designed
the “Love Lives Here
” welcome mat.

I wonder how he explained everything to his housekeeper...

I swallowed and rang the doorbell.

There was no ans
wer. I rang the doorbell again.

“Who is it?” a woman’
s voice came over the intercom.

I pressed the red button.
“It’s me, Hannah! Melody
!”

The door opened
immediately
,
but instead of seeing
his housekeeper
Hannah, I found myself face to face with blonde bitch.

Her hair was in a short
and
shiny
bob, not a single strand was out of place.
She was ne
rvously blinking her
eyes, searching for something to say.

I glared at her and resisted the
urge to slap her senseless.

“I’m sorry,” she took a step back. “I didn’t recognize you with red hair.”

“Well, I
still
don’t recognize you so…”

She looked hurt. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Look, I’m not sure if there’s a proper protocol for meeting the home-wrecker, but excuse me if I didn’t call
you
. I texted Sea
n and let him know I was coming earlier. I was living here a couple
weeks ago
you know?
”

I felt my heart swell and blinked away a tear.

I c
an’t let this bitch see me cry.

“My apologies,” she stepped a
side and let me into the house.

I walked past the open foyer, past the state of the art kitchen, and into the room that
used to be
my office. Upon entering the room, I
nearly
broke down.