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 guess that makes me just as stupid as he is.
Eleven months ago I started working for Teen Scene, a magazine for teens, tweens and everything ‘in betweens.’ I lucked out getting the job right out of college, which is how most things in my life happen - chance, fate, kismet, whatever you want to call it. I’m made up entirely of random luck, coupled with some crappy moments that I let get to me way more than I should. Anyway, everyone in the office wanted to cover Asher Montgomery’s latest movie, Sunbitten II. E-v-e-r-y-o-n-e. The fact that the magazine even got invited to take part in the press junket is huge. We typically only get TV and B-list teen stars, not someone of Asher’s magnitude, and yet here I am.
While this isn’t my first interview it’s not what I normally handle. I’m an editor. I don’t do the interviewing. I shouldn’t have even been sent here. Yet because it’s Easter, and because I was the only one in the entire office without plans, here I am. Perks of being a Jew, I suppose. The thing is, even if I did have plans, I would have cancelled them in a heartbeat. I would do anything to meet Asher Montgomery again. My two seconds with him five years ago standing outside of a Broadway theater in the freezing cold wasn’t nearly enough.
But that day...
With a sigh I grab my tablet off the nightstand. I scroll to the latest book I’m reading, and settle against my pillow.
Maybe just a chapter or two.
But just when I think I’m finally tired enough to possibly fall back to sleep, I roll over and catch the clock...
8:00.
Ten minutes before my alarm is set to go off.
Guess it’s time to start the day.
An hour later, and at only ten minutes late, I step into the glass elevator and inhale that delightful hotel smell. Looking out over the turquoise Caribbean water I happily sigh.
This definitely beats New York.
Suddenly the elevator starts to descend.
Crap!
The next thing I know the doors open and I’m in the lobby, when I was supposed to be going up to the penthouse floor. I press the button again, but nothing happens.
Welcome to me in a nutshell - wanting to get somewhere, but going absolutely nowhere.
Frustrated, I exit and accidentally walk headfirst into a police officer.
“Sorry!” I shout, realizing I should pay more attention. He offers a scowl and I look away at the crowd. It seems the entire island knows Asher Montgomery is staying here. With one last apologetic glance I hit the elevator’s call button again, all while trying to ignore everyone’s loud groans as they realize I’m no one special. The same elevator I was just in dings. A few people rush in past me, annoyed their vacation is being interrupted by chaos, but really, who isn’t up to date on Asher’s whereabouts? I quickly learn the answer to that - obviously not everyone, and someone is clearly punishing me for thinking the way I do because I trip over the gap in the floor as I make my way in.
Tripping is one of those things you see as it’s happening. You try to stop it but it’s always too late. I lose my grip on my purse and the contents are suddenly mid-air, about to land everywhere, a terrible result of being a klutz. A little boy laughs, and no one has the common decency to help me pick a damn thing up. I dodge through legs and rolling luggage to find my cell phone, a few feminine products, my tape recorder, and a million other items that were haphazardly thrown into my unzipped handbag.
Then the doors close.
After stopping on what feels like every floor I’m the only one left. Nope, I obviously spoke too soon. The second I lean my head against the wall the doors open and a skinny blonde enters. I recognize her almost immediately. She works for a high profile magazine, and is constantly rubbing shoulders with celebrities. Even in a T-shirt and jeans she carries a briefcase and looks far more professional than I ever will. Suddenly I worry I overdressed for the interview in my fancy skirt and blouse. I thought I looked okay this morning, but Travis’, are you wearing that? comment suddenly pops into my head and I’m left feeling anxious.
The blonde chats on her cell while fumbling with her digital recorder - digital! Meanwhile I’m stuck on mini cassette tapes over here. She inserts a key into the slot and presses the button for the very floor I’ve been trying to get to for the past ten minutes.
Oh.
Clearly I missed the memo - I needed to use my key before hitting the button. I slide further back, hitting the wall, feeling stupid and way out of my league.