“Mom…”
“I’m sorry. Look, I understand why you did what you did. You’re not really hurting anyone but yourself so you need to figure out how much more you can take. When you figure that out, you need to let her go completely and move on. Life’s too short to waste your time on someone you barely like.”
“I wish it was that easy.”
“Nothing ever is,” she sighed. “Tell me more about what I’ve missed these past two years. Your dad would’ve been so proud of you if he was around.”
I told her I hated how my film career was going, how I wanted to return to Broadway, and how I really was tired of being a celebrity. By the time I rehashed everything, she was fast asleep on the plane.
“Ramon will drop your mother off at the hotel and take us to the recital right after,” Joan handed me a blazer. “Your speech is in the right pocket.”
“Sounds great. Did my flowers ever get to Melody Carter?”
“She’s still on vacation,” she fixed my tie.
“In St. Barts?”
She nodded her head and stepped back to admire her handiwork.
It’s been over a week. She should be back by now. Why am I keeping track? What’s wrong with me?
Melody Carter didn’t even seem vaguely interested in me. But I wanted—needed—to see her again. Even if she blew me off, it was worth knowing if I stood a chance. I also needed to get far away from Selena and her antics for a while.
Am I really considering going to St. Bart’s? What if I run into her… and her boyfriend? She never mentioned if she was seeing someone.
If I was going to go, I needed to find a way to deal with the paparazzi—to throw them off completely. I would need to fly at night and unfortunately forego security. And Joan would have to go. She could do most of my thinking for me.
“How many days are we staying there?” Joan smiled.
“At least three. Do you happen to know anything else about Miss Carter? What part of the island she’s staying on?”
“I’ll find out.”
Chapter 13
Melody
The glass bottom boat rocked back and forth as the tour guide shouted directions on his radio. I wrapped a blanket around my waist and put on my shades.
“You okay Jen?” I shook her awake. “We’re about to be back on shore.”
She mumbled something that sounded like “Yeah whatever” and rolled over to face me. She struggled to keep her bleach blonde hair away from her face in the sudden onslaught of wind.
“I’m tired Mel,” she whined. “That was a really long tour. Would you hate me if I went back to the room and napped for a while? I promise I’ll hang out with you later.”
“That’s cool. I’ll just grab a drink and tan.”
“Great.”
When we reached land, the tour guide helped us off the ship and handed us his business card. “Maybe next time you’ll stay awake for the whole tour?”
“Probably not,” Jen laughed.
“I enjoyed it,” I slipped him a fifty. “Thank you very much.”
“Later Mel,” Jen hugged me and walked towards the villa.
I strolled alongside the shore and headed for a bar. It wasn’t even noon and Jen was leaving me hanging.
We’d spent the past week tackling tiring activities—jet skiing, diving, rock climbing—and I still couldn’t get a good night’s sleep, let alone a nap. I woke up every few hours thinking about Sean, about my byline, about things I couldn’t control.
The bartender slid me a beer before I could sit down. He slid two drinks to the patrons on the other end, and walked towards me.
“Beautiful women always get their first drink on me,” he said. “What else can I get you today?”
I ordered three martinis, a Cosmopolitan, and a Daiquiri. My goal was to drink them all within five minutes. I wanted the alcohol to flow to my brain immediately, that way I could finally nap without thinking about anything.
I chugged the beer, downed the Daiquiri, and picked up the Cosmo.
“I thought you didn’t drink,” a familiar voice startled me from behind.
I turned around and saw a shirtless Matt Sterling. His shades were covering his eyes so I couldn’t read his expression. I was glad I was still wearing mine so he couldn’t see how hard I was eyeing his abs.
Oh my god!
“Do you stalk every critic who gives you a bad review? I happen to know Richard Roeper will be in Venice this weekend.”
“I’ll have whatever you make best,” Matt said to the bartender as he sat next to me. “So you do drink?”
“Obviously,” I downed my Cosmo.
The bartender slid him a frothy orange concoction with floating strawberries.
“What brings you here Miss Carter? Special trip with your boyfriend?”
“I thought I was on vacation,” I slid my shades on top of my head. “If you had told me you’d be here the same week, I would’ve rescheduled my trip.”
Liar!
“Oh really?” he took off his shades.
Try not to look into his eyes!
“Where’s Selena?” I changed the subject.
“She’s back in New York. She doesn’t know I’m here.”