Page 100 of The Grumpy Billionaire
LEAVE THE PAST BEHIND AND REACH OUT FOR YOUR FATE. IT’S RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.
You see, I didn’t want you to be my fate because I loved you too much. And I knew I couldn’t take it if you ever left me.
So I left you first. Then I ran and I ran until you caught me again somehow. The funny thing is—I turned out to be one of those sentimental suckers who believes in love and all that idiotic meant-to-be shit.
You are my fate, or at least you were, until I gave the world’s stupidest answer to the world’s most wonderful question. I may have lost my chance to spend a lifetime with you, but no matter what happens you will always be the love of my life.”
I finished with the vow Buttercup made to Westley, “I will never love again,” and signed it, “Still yours, Mara.”
I hit the “post” button before I could change my mind and then tried to go back to my movie. But there was no hope of paying attention to the story. I checked my laptop once every ten minutes pretty much all night long and checked my phone several times to make sure it was charged and the ringer turned to full volume.
There was no activity from either electronic device. I finally fell into an exhausted sleep just before dawn.
My ringtone woke me a couple hours later. I was still on the couch and my phone was on the floor, where it must have dropped from my hand when I dozed off.
My sleep-weakened fingers fumbled for it, pushing it further away before I finally managed to grasp it and bring it to my ear.
“Hello?”
A chirpy female voice answered me, “Um, hi. This is Tanya Garcia at News Night America in New York calling for Mara Neely?”
“Yes.” I cleared my throat. “This is she.”
“Oh, hi,” she repeated, even more chipper. “I’m calling to ask if you could come to New York this week and do an interview for us?”
I sat up, trying to clear my sleep-deprived brain. “What? Why would you want to interview me?”
News Night America was the country’s premier prime-time news magazine. I half-suspected I wasn’t actually awake, and this was some kind of vivid stress dream.
Tanya laughed, a bright, girly sound. “No. You’re um, a reporter, right? They told me to call you and see how soon you could get here to do an interview for us with Reid Mancini—likeyouinterviewhim—get it?”
Okay, definitely dreaming. “I think there’s been some kind of mistake. I don’t—”
“Well, this is the number they told me to call, and Mr. Mancini said it was the number for Mara Neely, and you’re Mara Neely, right?”
“Yes…” Now I got to my feet and crossed the living room to my laptop. I logged onto Reid’s website and went to his page—still no reply.
“Okay, well, I’m an assistant booking producer here, and they said Reid Mancini… you know that super-rich StillYours guy?”
“Yes.”
“Well, he called the network and said he would do an interview—he’s never done one before, you know, and we’ve been trying to get him, like, forever—this is a huge deal.”
“I know.”
“Okay, well, he said he’d only do it if we got a reporter from Providence, Mara Neely, that’s you, to ask the questions. I guess he’s super-shy or something. And you know sweeps starts this week, so if you can make it, we’d really like for you to come. Oh, and he said you have some b-roll of his house and his company and stuff?”
“I um, lost it.”In an unfortunate microwave fire.
“Oh, bummer. Well, we’ll have to hire a crew to shoot some new stuff then.”
“I know of a great photog here,” I said. “He’s with the local affiliate where I… used to work. I’m sure they’d be thrilled to let him shoot it if you’ll give them access to some footage afterward. I’ll give you his number.”
Sheldon wouldfreakwhen he got the call asking him to do something for the network, even though he’d be shooting basically the same video he’d gotten once before.
“Cool. So you’ll do it then?” Tanya asked.
I took a beat to think. This was too weird. It didn’t make sense. After all that had happened, why would Reid volunteer for another interview, with me of all people?
