“I’ll be right out. Hey Joan?”
“Yes?”
“After the interview, will we have time to stop by—”
“Miss Carter hasn’t returned to work yet.”
“Could you turn to the side a bit, Mr. Sterling?” the assistant tapped his lip. “Maria! Maria! The lighting is wrong! We need to fix this before she gets here!”
I mentally vanished from the room. Photographer extraordinaire Anne Leibovitz was shooting me for Vogue and I couldn’t have cared less. I was honored to finally meet her, but my week was off to a horrible start and all I wanted to do was sit in my apartment and relax.
I barely made it through Monday’s interview on “The View” without shouting, “We’re not really a couple! Please shut up!” The questions about the baby and the wedding just kept coming. They even managed to put together a short segment about what we should name our kid. One of the names was Matlena.
On Tuesday, I shot the final scene for Wherever You Are, greeting the legion of fans that showed up to watch me run through Central Park half naked. I even stayed behind after we wrapped. I signed autographs and took pictures with as many fans as I could. I went on two “craving runs” that night: one for ketchup and pickles, one for hard liquor.
Wednesday and Thursday seemed to blend together: three magazine interviews, six phone interviews, Skype chats with fans, a script selection session with Shelby, an appearance at Ian Somerhalder’s party, and lunch in Miami with my mom.
When I returned to reality, I felt another assistant adjusting my cuff links and fiddling with my shirt.
“I’m Annie Leibovitz,” a gray haired woman with glasses extended her hand to me.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Matt Sterling.”
“Let’s get started, shall we?”
I lay on my bed and prayed that Joan knew me well enough to reschedule the rest of my afternoon. I’d zombied my way through yet another week and I didn’t have any energy left.
“May I come in?” Joan knocked.
“You know you don’t have to ask.”
She turned on the light in my room and ignored my groans. I heard her go into the bathroom and turn on the Jacuzzi.
She walked over to my bed and sat on the edge. “I’ve canceled the rest of your day.”
“Please don’t ever quit,” I rolled over. “I don’t think I can afford to lose you.”
“You can’t, but I don’t see that happening any time soon. I think you should go relax in the tub. I ordered some broccoli and cheddar soup for your lunch. It should be here soon.”
“Thanks so much.”
“Of course. There are some updates we need to go over.”
“I’m listening.”
“I personally dropped by The New York Appeal today and Miss Carter wasn’t there. Apparently she’s on an extended leave of absence. Would you like to send something non-perishable so it’ll be there when she gets back?”
Where the hell is she?
“Five pounds of Skittles.”
“Will do. You and Selena are on the cover of Us Weekly. There’s a picture of you rubbing her stomach and a picture of you leaving CVS late at night. The cashier told them what you purchased.”
What I would give to be “normal” right now…
“Is that all?”
Joan sighed and avoided my eyes. That was never a good sign.
“Joan? What is it? Tell me.”
“Oprah’s people called Peter. Then he called Shelby and then she called me and now—”
“Joan…”
“They wanted to know if you could push up the wedding since you two technically aren’t paying for it anyway. Selena’s people already called back and confirmed, so they assume that—”
“Assume that what?”
“That they can film it in two months.”
“Can you make sure the annulment papers and a notary are at the ceremony?”
“Sure, but—”
“But what?”
“You signed a contract saying that you would stay legally married long enough for them to air the special at least four times.”
“How long is that?”
“Seventy two days.”
“Get the hell out of here. They can’t control that. Have my lawyers here tomorrow.”
Chapter 17
Melody
I was on cloud nine, floating high above the plane that was carrying me back to New York. All I could think about was kissing Matt Sterling.
I drifted through La Guardia airport, humming Frank Sinatra’s “New York New York,” bumping into travelers every few feet.
“Are you trying to run into people on purpose? Jen to Melody! Jen to Melody! Hey! Wake up!” my sister’s voice brought me back down to earth.
“What!”
“You just knocked that woman out of her wheelchair,” she pointed to a woman sprawled across the floor.
“Oh my god! I am so sorry ma’am,” I reached down and helped her back into her chair. “I didn’t see you.”
“And doctors tell me my eyes are bad? Hmph!” the woman threw up her bony middle finger and rolled away.
Jen shook her head at me and sighed. “Is this how you’re going to act while we unpack your apartment today? If it is, I’ll just get drunk and pretend to work on my paper at home.”
“I’ll be fine. I was just thinking about—”