Read Online High Heels in New York by A.V. Scott - Free Book Online Page A

Angelica. I simply cannot.” He walked over to her and grabbed her hands, bringing them into his chest. “Angie, darling, if you don’t stop your Diva bitch act I’m going to fire myself. Do you want another manager? Is that what you want?”
    “No.” Looking at him, Angie knew he was being serious. She’d known Charlie for too long. He had been the only constant person in her life and she wasn’t about to start fresh with someone new. No one would understand her. No one would care. Not like Charlie. “Okay. Fine. Tell me what I have to do and I’ll do it.”
    “That’s what I want to hear,” h e said, reaching over on his desk . “I got you a role in Say it ‘ aint so .”
    “Oh, that new teen movie? You got me the role of the cool older sister right?” Angie beamed. She’d read the script a few weeks ago and although she really wasn’t thrilled with the writing, she figured appearing in something after a two year hiatus would be good.
    “You’re going to be playing Mrs. Roberts.”
    “Who’s that? I didn’t read that part.”
    “You’re g oing to be Allison’s’ mother,” h e said, walking back behind his desk and moving all the sharp objects away from Angie’s reach.
    If looks could kill, Charles would’ve died a very slow and painful death.
     

 
     
     
    5
     
     
     
    Hiding under her covers, Melissa called out of work and decided the only goal she had was to keep her mind off of the fact that her perfect little life was coming unglued. There was no longer a reason to get up at seven a.m. and go to the gym to get in shape because she had no one to see her naked; no morning cup of Joe on the way to work because Jonathan was having his cup of Joe with someone else and there was no reason to breathe because her dream wedding was no longer happening. Vera Wang herself was crying a monsoon.
    Eventually she would have to put her big girl panties on and go on with her life.  But she couldn’t help picture herself walking around the streets of Manhattan a few weeks ago with not a care in the world. There was possibility and real joy out in that concrete jungle. And deep down she knew that if there was a chance she could get her perfect life back, it was highly unlikely that it would come knocking on her front door. She knew she had to go out there and find it. She just didn’t know where to start. And when you don’t know where to start, you sulk.
    And that exactly what she did. Curled up under her covers, she watched HGTV Home Hunters International, oohing and ahhing over the beautiful places she wished she could go. Usually, watching this show would make her feel hopeful, as if she still had so much of the world to see and conquer. But if she couldn’t even conquer a living, breathing man in New York City, how in the world would she be able to conquer traveling thousands of miles away from home?
    Sadly, she couldn’t think of an answer. It made her wonder if everyone had been right all along about her trip to Paris. Maybe, it was a bad idea after all. Feeling depressed, she turned off the television and went back under the covers.
    By midday she figured there was no harm in at least checking her voice mail. So, she powered on the cell phone and waited for it to reboot, not because she needed to make a call, just in case Jonathan was looking for her. Once it turned on, she pressed the mail icon and waited for the mechanical voice to talk to her, y ou have four vo icemails and one saved message.
    Her heart fluttered.
    The first two voicemails were from her mother reminding her to get Tulips for the bouquet and a cake. A cake? For a wedding that was supposed to take place in less than a week? It was just like her mother to expect miracles, Melissa thought. The next one was from her cell phone company asking her to pay her bill. And the last was from her bank asking her to come into the bank to discuss some fraudulent activity. Great, she thought. 
    There were no messages from Jonathan or