Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 129110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
I wrack my brain for something whitty to say when I finally see that glorious chat bubble pop up.
He's responding.
Unknown: The thing is I should have just said lunch. I meant lunch. I was being a jerk during the interview and wanted to apologize properly.
Asher Montgomery wants to have lunch with me? I look up at... absolutely nothing, unable to comprehend... well, basically anything right now. Then with a wide smile I return to my phone.
Me: How am I texting no number?
Unknown: It’s magic :)
Unknown: Come back…
Unknown: Please?
Me: If I say yes do I lose my appeal?
Me: I am, after all, apparently the only person to ever say no to you?
Uknown: Are you always this difficult?
Me: I should ask the same of you. It was hell trying to come up with something good enough to send my boss.
Unknown: Are you saying in addition to my poor choice of roles I'm bad at giving interviews?
Me: Now you're twisting my words.
Unknown: Crazy how that works, huh?
Me: So you're punishing me because SOME journalists suck?
Me: And you were still good in those roles.
Unknown: Ah, so she can compliment.
Me: Sorry. Guess I'm confused by the mixed signals. I don't usually hang out with celebrities.
Unknown: I promise I won't bite. Unless you're into that sort of thing...
Me: I'm not.
Unknown: Too bad... so are you coming or what? I'm hungry.
Oh god.
It’s probably not the smartest thing, but what the hell.
I glance over at Travis and then back at my phone, feeling like I’m about to make some sort of life-altering decision.
It's just lunch, and I’m ready to change my life anyway.
Or eat. I am hungry.
I clear my throat. “So it looks like the office needs a few more questions,” I shout, waiting for Travis to hear me over whatever he's listening to. He looks up and removes one of the ear buds. “I have to see if any of the other cast members are available,” I stand and gather my things. I know he doesn’t care, and my gut wrenches. I pause and stare, willing for him to do or say something.
Tell me to stay and I will.
“That sucks,” he laughs. "Too bad for you."
Right.
I pull my cover up over my head and let it fall down the rest of the way. “See you later,” I wave.
I don't feel bad, or guilty.
Just right.
And hungry.
3
Sorry Girl
I fish out my room key and flash it to the security guard posted at the elevators, and this time I correctly place it in the slot as I hit the button for fourteen.
In a matter of minutes I’m back to staring at my reflection in the same hallway mirror from this morning, and like earlier I wonder if I should’ve changed. I ran up here without thinking, still in my bathing suit.
What am I thinking anyway?
Present Elle and teenage Elle are battling it out, until somehow I'm right outside the penthouse door, convincing myself to leave this fantasy world all while preparing for it.
Then, like some creepy haunted house the door opens with no one on the other side. Or at least I don't see anyone. I start to come up with some explanation as to why I'm here, expecting to see the same lady from earlier, but it’s Asher Montgomery’s head that suddenly pops out from behind the door, and I can't handle it - and by that I mean all of it. Every part of today. The fact that he texted me - that he knows my name - that he's looking at me. After years of pining for the impossible along with millions of other girls I'm... standing here.
Clueless.
More so, he has this look, like he knew I would come, despite me not answering his last text.
Cocky bastard.
We size one another up in silence, and as a smirk breaks out across both our faces I step inside, somehow relaxed and yet a thousand times more nervous.
“I thought you don’t mix with celebrities?” he goads, shutting the door.
“You’re right,” I start to go. I have no business here. This was a horrible idea and no good could come from it. Best case scenario my entire teenage existence will be ruined and tainted. All that time spent obsessing over Lets Go, and especially him - of the person I thought and imagined he was but clearly isn't... well, I'm fine to be kept in the dark. It's better that way. I'll have this tale of the time I interviewed him and how he randomly texted me and I came back, but the story ends there.
“Wait!” he grabs my hand, and I look down at where he's touching me, somehow knowing it doesn't end here, not for new Elle.
There's a jolt - an electricity, and I know he feels it too because we both end up on opposite ends of the room.