The Boyfriend Plan – J.S. Cooper

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THE BOYFRIEND PLAN

J. S. COOPER

CONTENTS

Untitled About The Boyfriend Plan Prologue Part I Chapter 1 Untitled Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Part II Chapter 2

Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 FREE BOOK Exclusive Excerpt from Dante Connect with J. S. Cooper Also by J. S. Cooper

For all those girls who are a little immature when it comes to love.

About The Boyfriend Plan Dear Diary, William Blake Connor is a stud. He's my brother's best friend since childhood. He was my first crush and now he's my boyfriend coach. And he says that he's going to help me find a boyfriend as long as I do what he says. Which is all good and well, but I don't know that I want him to be my teacher. Not when his techniques include kissing me in ways that make me think that he's the only one that I want. My name is Maggie Lane and I'm a dreamer, a thinker, a wanna-be writer and all I really wants is to meet the love of my life. I can't help it that I go from crush to crush, never finding Mr. Right. It's not that I'm not trying. I thought I would be single forever. And then I reunited with hunky Blake, and he said that he'll be my boyfriend coach and help me snag a boyfriend. He came up with a plan that included teaching me how to flirt, date, and even how to seduce. It all sounded like a great idea at first, but everyone knows that the best laid plans often go awry.

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Copyright © 2018 by J. S. Cooper Previously published as The Shameful Diary of a Hopeless Romantic & The Even More Shameful Diary of a Hopeless Romantic by Suzi Case. Cover Design by Cover Couture www.bookcovercouture.com Photo (c) Deposit Photos/4pmphoto Photo (c) Deposit Photos/BackUp

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Prologue If anyone finds my diary and reads it, you may not believe I am a mature woman in my twenties. You may not believe that I could find myself in such delicate situations. All I can say is that I was very sheltered as a child and I took a while to grow up. Please don’t judge me too harshly. We all have a little child inside. I just have a bigger one than most people. I promise that by the end you’ll see I’ve matured, at least a little bit. Dear Diary, Some people might call me a daydream believer. I prefer to call myself a true romantic. You see, I’ve always had this vision of riding off into the sunset with my true love staring at me like I was the only woman in the world. In this vision, I also look amazing, like some sort of top model or actress. My hair will be silky, my skin will be flawless, I’ll be a size zero, and I’ll also have the brain of a astrophysicist. Oh yeah, I will have already competed and won both the New York and London Marathons. Hey, what’s a daydream if it’s completely realistic? When I daydreamed, I never had an actual man in mind. Really anyone would do. Anyone that I thought was gorgeous and funny and loyal, of course. I wasn’t to know that any man really wouldn’t do. They really wouldn’t do at all. Only one man would do. And that man had a name. A name I would never forget.

Part I

1 Dear Diary, Gayle told me today that I act like a 17-year-old girl instead of a 27-year-old woman. She said no self-respecting adult has a crush on celebrities. I think she was annoyed at how much I was gushing about Bradley Cooper. But really, who wouldn’t gush? He is a perfect specimen of a man. It was when we were watching ‘The A-Team’ movie this evening that I realized that he is, perhaps, the best looking actor in Hollywood. And he quite possibly has the sexiest smile I’ve ever not seen in real life. I told Gayle that I think that he will be my new celebrity crush. I know Edward Norton has the brains to match the looks, but with my old age, beggars can’t be choosers and well, Edward just got engaged. And seeing as my chances with him are now slim to none, I decided it was now time for a more obtainable and single crush. Let’s add that I’m not a fan of the home-wrecker, and let’s be honest here, Edward was unlikely to leave his gorgeous fiancé for me anyway. Don’t worry, I’m not delusional or a stalker. Or at least I don’t think so. Gayle, my best friend for the last ten years, would beg to differ, though. I think she’s just jealous because I’m youthful and can still delight in daydreams that she gave up years ago. I didn’t even bother asking her if she wanted to go with me to see the new ‘Fast and Furious’ movie tomorrow. She hadn’t seemed too impressed with the fact that I was willing to wait outside the movie theater for 48 hours to ensure I got a good seat last year. I mean, come on, look at Vin Diesel’s abs. I’ve created a list of all the things I want to accomplish within the next 3 years. It’s my “Before I Hit 30” list. I almost decided to give up while just writing the list. It had become so long and unachievable as I added one dream after another that I started to feel discouraged just writing it. However, I knew that if I could just accomplish at least one of the items on my list, I would be ecstatic. I would be jumping up and down on couches like Tom Cruise did on Oprah and singing like my head wasn’t good. Which it isn’t anyway, if you ask Gayle. The list was actually quite simple, but I didn’t really know which number to start with. Logically and realistically, I knew that the ‘lose weight’ and ‘write a children’s book’ ones were items I could work on and control, but they didn’t excite me as much as ‘marry Bradley Cooper’ did. But as you can imagine, I had

no idea how to get Bradley Cooper to marry me. In fact, I had no idea how to even meet Bradley Cooper, at least not without getting sent to jail for stalking. Also, there was the fact that he had a baby and was engaged to a supermodel. And well, I’m not a supermodel. A girl can still dream though.

Untitled My Hit it before 30 list 1. Marry Bradley Cooper in Hawaii. 2. Get married in Hawaii (It would be nice if he looked like Bradley Cooper). 3 Get married (male, good-looking, funny and nice will also do). 4. Write a set of children’s books and become as rich as J.K. Rowling (However, do not name the books the ‘Harry Potter Has Returned’ series). 5. Write a children’s book. 6. Become a supermodel and do a Victoria’s Secret catwalk show. 7. Lose enough weight to proudly walk around in Victoria’s Secret storebought underwear. 8. Lose weight. So basically what I really want is to get married, be skinny or skinnier than I am now, and become a world-famous children’s author. Well, a published author would do. Unfortunately, I couldn’t be any further away from all 3 of these things if I tried. I had no boyfriend, and certainly no Tiffany’s ring was going to be popping out of a little teal box while I was sitting on the beach under the stars anytime soon. I had about 30 pounds to go before anyone would ever say I was skinny, and 30 more pounds to go if I wanted to be considered to walk in any catwalk show. The children’s book was also not coming along very well; I had no agent, no publisher, and to be honest, no book. A single word had yet to be written, though I did have some amazing ideas. I just needed to start writing. It was a little bit of a shame, I do admit that.

* * * I, Maggie Lane, am an idiot. A first-class idiot. I mentioned to my best friend Gayle a few months ago that this was the year that I was going to get into shape, once and for all. She, of course, said all the right things that a best friend should say. “Oh, Maggie, you don’t need to lose weight!” and, “Why, Maggie, if you lost any more weight, you’d look like a stick.” Ok - I lied. Gayle didn’t say either of those things. She’s certainly not a politically-correct best friend, though that’s why I love her. What she actually told me was “Good for you, Maggie.

Now you will finally be able to fit into those size 6 jeans that you bought 2 years ago.” Like I needed reminding about those jeans. They cost me $300. Don’t ask why I bought a pair of jeans for $300 in a size that was too small. I’d just started a ‘banana split diet’ and believed the “Lose 20 lbs in One Week!” advertisements that went along with it. Let’s just say that 20 pounds was a number to believe in, only they meant you gained it, not lost it. And I guess the extra 5 pounds on top of that were a free bonus for being a believer. I guess I had gone on about losing weight too many times before, because it seemed as if Gayle wanted to make sure that this year, I actually stuck to my losing-weight dream. This morning, Gayle sent me an email asking if I could recommend some weight-loss tips for her coworker. I wasn’t sure if it was some sort of ‘call to action’ on her part, to somehow guilt me into losing weight because her coworker wanted to do it as well. Fat chance. I told her, “I’ve heard exercise and watching what you eat tend to work well, and that’s what I would recommend.” I thought my sarcasm would get her off of my back and didn’t expect her to email me back so promptly and so excitedly. Turns out Gayle now considers herself a runner, though not for weight-loss purposes. She is a slender size 4 and has no fat to lose. Not an inch. Gayle is one of those I-need-to-be-healthy-so-I-can-live-till-I’m-100 types of people. And she has decided that running will help her get her heart healthier than it already is. Which I’m thinking is pretty healthy, seeing as she stays away from salt, red meat, fried foods, etc. You get my drift. She doesn’t enjoy food. Well, not like I do. Had I realized that Gayle had picked up running, I wouldn’t have sent her back an email talking about the joys I had running in the park with my new running shoes and how the track at the gym and I are getting to be best friends. I wouldn’t have gone into great detail about how my dog, Lucy, loves the cool air in her face as she sniffs around and runs with her ears flapping. The sentences about Lucy alone should have given the whole email away. Gayle has met Lucy several hundred times, and she should know that running is not something Lucy cares for much. She is possibly the laziest dog to be in existence this side of the Equator. Sleeping and eating are her favorite pastimes. I refuse to believe she is a Labrador Retriever, as they always seem to be running and swimming in every TV show I see them in. But alas, no. Gayle didn’t infer that I was jokingly boasting about my running schedule to get her off my back. She didn’t see behind my plan to block her in advance of her asking me to join her new super duper swanky gym again. My preemptive strike backfired on me. She actually believed me. I couldn’t for the life of me understand how or why when she saw my size 12 ass just last

week, huffing and puffing as we walked from one night club to the next. But maybe that was her plan all along. She was going to pretend she believed me to shame me into actually doing it. She watches too many of those therapy-type shows on TV, and I’m sure she must have watched some sort of reversepsychology episode where you pretend to believe that your friend/spouse/family member has given up something just so you can shame them into actually giving it up. How dare she try to outsmart me like that! Those psychology talk shows must be on to something, though, because her evil plan worked. I am now signed up for a marathon with her in 6 months. As soon as she told me that, I started hyperventilating. I can’t even run a quarter of a mile. How do I get myself into these things? I suppose it could be quite helpful and might help get me into shape. I’ve been meaning to get into better shape for years now, but you know how life goes. There just never seems to be enough time for exercise and, well, all the healthy foods just don’t taste as good. It seems that one ill-fated email and lie have decided that this is the year that my life is going to change.

1 Dear Diary, The thing I hate most about being overweight is the fact that I can never find cute dresses to wear. It seems to me that they always make dresses and tops from the ugliest materials they can find for the sizes 12 and above. The fashion industry is single-handedly trying to make women lose weight by giving them the most awful choices of clothes. I think they are in cahoots with the weight-loss industry, because unless you can sew or don’t care what you look like, you have to lose weight. That’s the only way to get cute clothes to wear. I think it is the worst form of discrimination. I’ve thought about suing one of the designing houses, but then decided against it. I mean, what would I wear to court? And honestly, I couldn’t afford to hire a lawyer to file a lawsuit. It is cheaper to just go and join the gym. Still, it does make me really mad. The gym is full of perfect people who do not need to go the gym. This is the realization I had today and one I wish someone had told me about before I signed up. Is there some secret gym for fatties that I don’t know about, hidden in some back alley or something? Or is there a certain hour when we are meant to go and not completely lose our self-esteem? I am feeling very tired after my first day at the gym. Okay, I didn’t actually work out tonight. Just filled out the paperwork and got myself a membership. It was bloody expensive, $150 signing fee and $50 a month. I nearly walked out then and there but felt like it would be too shameful. Because it’s not like I don’t need it, and the lady who signed me up, Perky Tina, really seemed excited to have me. Said I could join the new boot-camp classes. I didn’t know whether or not to be offended. Did I look like I needed to be beaten into shape? I didn’t actually ask her that though, as I already knew what the answer would be. I also didn’t bother telling her that there was no way on this green planet that I would be making it to the boot-camp classes. They start at 6 a.m. Six a.m.! Ha. I value my sleep as much as I value my daily white-chocolate mocha from Starbucks, and neither one of them will be leaving my life any time soon (well the Starbucks may have to, as my bank balance may no longer be able to afford that delicious treat). I felt a little guilty leaving the gym after I got my membership. And

embarrassed after Perky Tina rushed after me to explain that I could work out today. She let me know that there was no waiting period for the membership to go into effect. I told her it would have been great but I had only intended on signing up today and was planning on coming first thing in the morning. She looked at me a little strangely then, and I wondered if I had unknowingly let it slip that I wasn’t a morning person. It was only as I was getting into my car that I remembered I had on my gym gear! I changed before I came, with the intention of working out tonight. But really, who wants to work out after filling out all that paperwork? As I signed away liability for my life (hopefully I won’t have a heart attack while on the treadmill), I thought about getting some tacos from Chipotle on the way home. The store closest to me closes at 8 p.m., so I figured I would just skip working out tonight. I mean, I already crossed the biggest hurdle of my weight-loss journey when I signed up for a membership, right? I also did some great brainstorming while I was waiting for Perky Tina to stop talking about all the equipment and classes they have available. I decided that not only was I going to write a children’s book, I would do some illustrations as well. I had some brilliant ideas about images I would like to see in the book. I went to Michael's right after Chipotle and got some new coloring pencils, to see if I could create the images I saw in my mind. I was really excited because once I got the book finished, I would see if I could get an agent or a publisher interested. And then, well, then maybe I could accomplish my dream of being an author, like Judy Blume or Paula Danziger or even J.K. Rowling. But I decided pretty quickly, after a few sketches, that perhaps my children’s book shouldn’t have any pictures. I can’t draw anything but stick men and have no money to sign up for an art class now that I’ve joined the gym.

* * * Color me embarrassed. Today was a bit of a disaster. Gayle must have watched another therapy show because she is stepping up the intensity and frequency of her emails. Her first email this morning contained a countdown of large flashing numbers, and I almost jumped out of my chair when the accompanying music started to play. “159 days to go until the race, 159 days to go until the race,” the screen shouted at me. It made me feel guilty, a bit nervous, and extremely scared. I need to get on the running thing quickly. Otherwise, Gayle is going to kick my ass, and I am going to look like a fool on marathon day. I guess the countdown worked at actually getting me into action because I decided that I would go to the gym right after work. I even skipped happy hour with Jim (the

computer guru), Ben (my office love), and Lola (queen of the know-it-alls). I was pretty excited to get to the gym. They have a sauna there, so I was thinking that I could run a little on the treadmill, ok walk, and then go relax in the sauna for a bit. I’d even downloaded some new songs to my iPod and was pretty excited about having a chance to listen to some music uninterrupted. The new Rihanna song I had downloaded had me pumped up to work out, and I walked into the gym feeling pretty jazzed up. My feeling of contentment only rose when I saw all the hot guys working out. At first, I didn’t even notice that everyone in there was perfect except me. I was so mesmerized by how many good-looking men were there. I’m talking about bodies that are usually only seen in action movies, with faces to match. I’d never seen such perfection in so many men who weren’t on TV screens, and well, it definitely put an added pep in my step. I was walking to the treadmills when it happened. This guy, who looked like a young George Clooney (yes, I will go on a date with you right now if you ask me to, kind sir), smiled at me, and winked. I was thinking to myself, “Wow, my new, slightly too-tight gym pants and white t-shirt (that’s so thin that you can see my hot-pink sports bra clearly through it) were worth the buy.” So, I did what any slightly shy but excited girl in her late 20’s would do. Well, at least what I think they would also do. I gave him, GC’s twin, a big smile and winked my left eye back at him. Next thing I know, this cute petite blonde goes running up to him and gives him a kiss on the cheek and starts talking animatedly. I didn’t stick around to find out what the conversation was about. But the pep in my step had decidedly less bounce after that. I should have just gone to the sauna after that incident. I could have let the hot air sweat away my embarrassment, but no, I don’t always think rationally. I decided to keep my head high, and with my cheeks burning a deep red, I hurried over to the nearest machine, which was a treadmill, and jumped on. It was then that I noticed that not only were all the guys super hot, but so were the girls. Every single one of them. I felt like I was Daffy Duck in Ocean’s Eleven, completely out of my natural environment. To make matters worse, GC’s twin and the blonde were laughing over something pretty loudly, and I could only think that, of course, it was about me and my stupid wink. Being the smart person that I am, I made things even worse. I, of course, did the stupidest thing that I could have done. I started running. On the treadmill. At 11 MPH. Me, who could barely keep up with the walk at 3 MPH. And within 10 seconds, I was flying off the treadmill and sitting on my ass. My slightly big, and to some just plain fat, ass. Not embarrassing at all. My too-tight pants were happily displaying my stomach, which seemed to proudly bulge out, while my t-

shirt played the peek-a-boo game with my bellybutton. And then to make matters worse, the best-looking guy in the whole gym of already gorgeous guys comes by to help me up. And I just sit there on the floor and stare at him, because his face looks slightly familiar and I am trying to place him from a movie or TV show. And I just sit there staring for what seems like hours but was likely just a minute. And while that may not sound like a long time, it really is very long. Count it. Measure a minute. See! Imagine staring at someone for a whole minute. And then imagine that someone is a gorgeous man, standing in front of you, with this hand stretched out to help you up, and you are just sitting there staring at him, with your heart beating loudly. A whole minute. No, that wasn’t embarrassing at all. I’ve decided that I’m not going back to that gym again. Never again. So what if I just paid $200 for a membership that came out of my savings account, which now has a balance of $33.60? I am not going to put myself through that embarrassment again. And so what if I have to deal with Gayle spewing all sorts of TV-induced therapy at me. And so what if I go and run the marathon and can only manage running for 1 minute before I run out of breath and stop? I can always pretend to have a panic attack or something. Okay, so maybe I will go back. Just one more time. I say that not only because I am scared of what Gayle will do to me if she finds out I quit the gym, but also because the gorgeous guy at the gym who helped me up after my fall gave me his business card as I hurried out of there doing the walk of shame. ‘Walk of shame’ because I promptly grabbed my gym bag and left right after that incident. I spent approximately 3 minutes working out in the gym today. I suppose that’s a step up over yesterday when I spent 0. I don’t quite understand why the guy gave me his card. It just has his name and number, no other information to give me a clue as to what his profession is, but I suppose maybe he’s a personal trainer and feels bad for me. He most likely sees me as an easy way to make more money each month. I mean, it had to be obvious that I had no clue what I was doing, and that I am dreadfully out of shape. I don’t know if I am going to call him, though. I’ll have to sleep on it. I wonder if his voice is as hot as his body. Plus, I don’t know what I would say if I called. I mean, “Is Blake there? This is the fat girl who made a fool of herself at the gym…” doesn’t sound too brilliant and neither does “Hi, Blake, it’s me, your fat Cinderella, calling to make all your dreams come true.” Perhaps I just won’t call at all.

2 Dear Diary, I am a pushover. I feel like I am easily pushed into things, or I try to be nice and convince others I will do things that I don’t necessarily really want to do. I also have a number of friends who seem to revel in this fact and delight in getting me to make a fool of myself. When am I ever going to learn? I thought that once you hit your mid-twenties as a woman (we all know it is much later for men), you were mature and level-headed and that magically, the ability to speak your mind came into practice. Well, it never happened. Here I am, still being bossed around like a five-year-old, putting my life in danger for a little excitement. Oh, and I guess the drama in my life doesn’t get any less with age, either. I just got back from lunch with Lola. She is possibly the most annoying person I know. You know the type of person she is: always has an answer for everything and is always right. No matter if you have a PhD in the subject, Lola knows more than you and loves nothing more than putting her two cents in. I’m surprised that no one in the office has punched Lola yet, but I suppose we are all professionals and well, no one wants to lose their job in this economy, especially not for putting Lola in her place. I’m not particularly fond of Lola, but because we work together, we tend to eat lunch together a lot. I told Lola about the gorgeous guy in the gym giving me his card. She thinks I should call him. She thinks I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth and that maybe he will give me some sort of discount. “It’s pretty obvious, Maggie. He saw you looking so pitiful at the gym that he felt that he wouldn’t be a good trainer if he didn’t offer you some sort of help,” she explained to me. “But he didn’t offer me any help. I mean, he helped me to my feet, but he didn’t offer to explain any of the machines to me or anything.” “Well, of course he’s not going to do it there and then. If he shows you for free, how does that help him?” She looked at me like I was some sort of dumbass. I wanted to throw some of my popcorn in her face, but I didn’t want to waste any. Popcorn may be low in calories, but I can personally attest to the fact that it doesn’t fill you up and doesn’t really hit any spots without a nice big

dollop of butter. I wasn’t about to waste any by throwing it at her. I thought about what Lola said and mulled it over. I don’t really know if the gorgeous man, whose name is Blake according to his card, is a personal trainer. However, Lola is convinced that he is and that he wants to provide me with his services. And I suppose I have to agree. I mean, why else would he have given me his card? I briefly thought about the possibility that he is trying to recruit me for the CIA or to join some secret society, but I decided that his being a personal trainer seems a bit more realistic. It was when Lola reminded me that our annual fundraiser comes up in 3 months that I capitulated and decided I will call Blake. I mean, I do want to be trimmer, especially if I have to shop for some sort of ball gown. And it would be great if I could blow everyone in the office away with my new smoking body. It could be like the reveal episode of that old TV show ‘The Swan’, only I won’t have had plastic surgery. And then, perhaps Ben will see me as more than just his best buddy at work. I often daydream about walking into a room in some sexy outfit and him gasping in surprise, shock, and awe. That daydream usually continues with him dropping to his knees and asking me to marry him, or, alternately, just declaring his undying love for me. Don’t worry, I’m not a complete dreamer. My more realistic daydreams feature him just asking me out on a date (just because the date dream has included weekend trips to Paris and riding a white horse on the beach doesn’t mean it is any more far-fetched). And so, when confronted with the possibility that in just 3 months I could possibly be dating Ben, I decided, “What do I really have to lose by contacting Blake?” Quite frankly, I don’t want to have to buy another ugly dress, as they only seem to make me look bigger than I am. Is that the fashion industry’s way of trying to help people lose weight? Make large clothes so ugly that you’d starve yourself just for a stylish dress or pair of pants? My worry list is starting to get long again! Worry List 1. Running a Marathon in 6 months. 2. Attending formal fundraiser looking like Miss Piggy. 3. Bank balance being dreadfully low. 1.Haven’t been on a date in 2 years and may have forgotten how to makeout.

Blake called me. Well, to be exact, he returned my call. I left him * * * a voicemail earlier babbling on about how I was new to the gym and while I could see the benefits of having a personal trainer, I didn’t really have much money and I didn’t know if I could afford his services. It didn’t cross my mind until after I had hung up the phone that I didn’t actually know if Blake was a personal trainer or not and that if he wasn’t, I was coming off as a complete psychopath. I didn’t think leaving a second message telling him I wasn’t cut out for or interested in the CIA would make things any better though. Our conversation was pretty brief. We’re going to meet up on Sunday for brunch. Ok, let me list what I know. Just in case he turns out to be some sort of serial killer and this is a trap. If I go missing and/or die mysteriously in the next week, this may be helpful to the police. Name: Blake Connor Phone number: 310-555-1254 Occupation: Personal Trainer or CIA Operative or possible Serial Killer Description: Very attractive Workout Spot: L.A. Fitness in Hollywood

3 Dear Diary, I cannot breathe. This morning, Gayle came over to go for a jog in the Hollywood Hills with Lucy and me. When I say jog, I mean run. I tried to pretend I was feeling sick and didn’t want to leave my bed. I shouted through the door that I was too sick to get up and open it for her. Unfortunately, I’d forgotten that I had used that trick/lie on Gayle too many times before. And I’d also forgotten that she has a key to my apartment. I didn’t have time to make myself look sick because she just walked right on into my living room and caught me eating a Twix Bar while watching reruns of ‘The King of Queens’. Lucy’s fat ass was sleeping on the other end of the couch; what a great guard dog she had turned out to be. She didn’t even lift her face off the down pillow she was slobbering all over, when Gayle barged in. And now, here I am, sitting with my calves aching and a pain in my stomach like you would never believe. I have no idea how I am going to run this marathon in a few months. I may have to break something, an arm or leg perhaps. I’m still deciding which. “Let’s go, Mags!” Gayle was hopping from foot to foot as she talked, irritating me with her peppiness. “Go where?” I answered while licking the last traces of chocolate off my fingers. Why couldn’t I have just said, “Oh, I have plans for this afternoon, but maybe we can do whatever you wanted to do some other time?” But no, my mind was still thinking about the letter I was going to write to the Twix Company, complaining about how quickly the chocolate melts on your fingers and away from the cookie (I’d recently heard that companies send you lots of free products if you send letters of complaint/suggestions to them). “On our first run together, duh. I figured we could do a few miles today. Get our butts in shape for the race.” “A few miles? Huh?” I looked at her in disbelief. “Well, I guess we could do more than that. I wasn’t sure how far you had progressed.” Gayle had misunderstood my hesitation. Or at least she was pretending to have misunderstood. “Well, I don’t know. A few miles is not really what my body is used to at this point.” I tried to word my sentence carefully. I didn’t want to have to come

straight out and say that there was no way in hell that my body wanted to run a few miles, not even one mile. Heck, it protests when I run down the stairs too quickly. “Wow, I didn’t know you were really serious about this running, Mags. I am so excited. Maybe we can even sign up for a triathlon soon as well, then?” Gayle exclaimed with excitement. I looked at her suspiciously. Was this a joke? How could she believe the words that were coming out of my mouth? Unless of course she was trying to call my bluff. “Hmm,” I thought, “I’ll show Gayle Suzanne Buffett what’s what.” “Sounds good to me. Let me just get my stuff,” I said, jumping off the couch. “Who knows, maybe we can make this our thing. A different marathon every few months. Maybe we can even be like that man who ran 30 marathons in 30 days.” “That sounds great to me.” She smiled at me sweetly. “Maybe, we can even” (I was really getting into my stride now) “start training for triathlons, and start mountain climbing—ooh, ooh, maybe we can even climb Mount Everest one day.” Gayle just laughed. “Get your running shoes on, Mags. Let’s get through this run today first.” Argh. I didn’t even own running shoes. This was going to be a disaster. I was pretty sure Gayle knew I was fibbing, but I wasn’t going to back down now. I also knew there was no way that I was going to be able to run. Shoot. This was going to be rough; we weren’t even going to be running on a flat surface. This was in the hills. I made a last-ditch effort to get out of the run. “Well, I’m really meant to go shopping for some new clothes, so I’m not really...” “Why do you need new clothes?” Gayle interrupted me. “Aren’t you broke?” “Well, I, um, I have a date tomorrow.” “A date?” Gayle stops her rabbit hopping and stares at me. “Yeah, a date,” I mumble weakly. An uneasy feeling seeped into my body as I lied. “You have a date and you didn’t tell me? Oh my gosh. Who is he? What does he do? How did you meet him? What’s his name?” Gayle questions me furiously. Shit. Shit. Shit. That was all that was running through my head at that point. Oh, shit. And then of course, I made the situation even better. “Blake. His name is Blake Connor, and I met him at the gym, and we are going to brunch tomorrow,” I say matter-of-factly. I mean, you could kind of consider it a date. Just not a romantic one. And Gayle didn’t have to know that

part. “Why, Maggie Lane, I do believe you have been hiding things from me.” I looked at her suspiciously. Was she really buying this? I felt guilty, but maybe this would get her off my back. “First, the running and the gym, and now a new man. You are really going for it this year, huh?” Gayle smiled at me, and I felt my heart sink. I know Gayle just wants the best for me. That she wants me to lose weight so I can feel more attractive and just to be in better shape. It wasn’t her fault that I still hadn’t gotten completely motivated. I resolved to myself then and there that I was going to do everything I could to get into shape for this marathon. “Let me get my shoes,” I said. “And let me find Lucy’s leash.” Okay, okay, I know, that was naughty of me. I decided to take Lucy with me because I knew she wouldn’t be able to run. She only uses her doggie door to do her business, and Lucy’s sluggishness would make it easier for me to just walk up the hill. I mean come on now, even though my resolve had changed, my body hadn’t. Turns out, taking Lucy was a mistake. A huge mistake. I don’t know what it was. Maybe because she had just had a very nice, comfortable, long nap; maybe because she smelled someone barbecuing, or maybe because hills excited her, but Lucy was running her heart out like a big ol’ Doberman was after her. I’d never seen her do anything like it before. I know they say there are no lazy dogs and only lazy owners, but trust me, you’ve never met a dog like Lucy before. I take her on walks every morning and evening, and she barely wants to go up the street before she stops and turns around and is ready to go back to the apartment. I ended up running up the hill faster than Gayle did because Lucy was so gung-ho and pulling me. I nearly died. I may yet die tonight. In my sleep. Or my legs may just fall off. I bet Gayle would feel bad then. Being the one responsible for making me run when my body wasn’t up to it. But I guess it’s karma for my lie. Because even now, with my feet soaking in a bucket of warm water and bath salts, and my breathing still a little erratic, I realize that the running part wasn’t the worst part of the day. The lie about my date with Blake was. Somehow, Gayle convinced me to allow her to spy on me during my date with Blake tomorrow. She says she can watch our body language and tell me if he is into me. She recently took a night course about reading people and wants to test out her newly-learned knowledge. Unfortunately for me, I told her when she first started the class that she could use me as a test study. I didn’t anticipate going on any dates in the near future, and she is so flaky with her new hobbies that I didn’t think it would be a problem. And while this technically isn’t a date, I still don’t want her spying on me. I wish I had just told Gayle the truth, that

Blake is a personal trainer or a CIA operative and I barely know him and have no idea why he wants to meet up for brunch. But no, I didn’t tell her the truth. I was too embarrassed and ashamed of the lies I’d already told. And now for some reason I am excited about the pretend date. Her excitement for me was contagious. By the end of our conversation, I was asking her what she thought I should wear and acting like it was a real date, myself.

* * * Gayle called me right before I went to bed and made me feel even more anxious. She told me that Lola and Ben are going to join her at brunch tomorrow so that she doesn’t look suspicious sitting at the table by herself. Gayle had called Lola, whom she met through me, and had asked her to join her so that they can spy on me inconspicuously. Lola agreed but said she had to bring Ben, as they already had plans (I didn’t know that Lola and Ben hung out outside of work). Thank God Lola didn’t know that I was meeting up with Blake for lunch tomorrow or she would have given away my secret. However, now I had 2 friends who were unhappy and thought I was holding out on them. Lola has already texted me twice, asking me why she hadn’t been informed that I had a date. I didn’t respond. I didn’t want my web of lies to keep growing and growing. I am not overly happy that 3 people are going to be spying on me during my fake date, but what can I do now? Nothing but get my beauty sleep.

4 Dear Diary, William Blake Connor thinks I am a maniac. A crazy maniac. He is possibly worried that I am a serial killer and not the other way around. Or he just thinks I am a delusional, crazy freak. On top of being a maniac. Which he has every right to, I suppose. Especially after having received not one, but two kisses from me, and well, totally inappropriate caresses and tidbits of information. I swear that I had no plans of acting like a fool (but then I never do). But when I saw him again, I almost melted. He is even better looking than I remembered. Tall, with a body that is fitter than fit, and dark silky hair just that little bit too long, and eyes like the ocean, an ocean I could swim in for days. But it was his scruffiness that made me melt. He obviously hadn’t had a shave in a couple of days, and he looked sexy. Very, very sexy. And, well, it has been 2 years. I decided as soon as I arrived at the restaurant that I would pay Blake any monthly charge he was asking for to have him train me. And that if he was actually a CIA operative, I would be willing to risk my life. If of course, it meant that I’d be working on some top-secret case with him. I’d be like a girl Friday to his James Bond. I could certainly do the incognito look, as I had plenty of black t-shirts, leggings, and dark sunglasses. It struck me as I was driving to Lucien’s, the swanky restaurant we had brunch at in Century City, that perhaps meeting Blake was some sort of gift from God. That He had rewarded me with a gorgeous man for going to the gym. And I wasn’t one for looking a gift horse in the mouth. I saw where Blake was sitting as soon as I walked into Lucien’s. The restaurant was pretty intimate and cozy. As I approached Blake’s table, I noticed Gayle sitting in the corner, her mouth open. I knew she hadn’t expected Blake to be so handsome. I had deliberately left that part out, just to give her a little shock and myself a little thrill. I smiled at her and almost burst into hysterical laughter when I saw Lola’s eyes nearly pop out. But it was when Ben looked at me that I started to feel a little reckless. He gave me a very thorough and appreciative look-over as I was walking to the table, and it made my insides warm. I have been in love with Ben Bonkers since I started working at We Love to Read. He is funny, intelligent, and gorgeous. We instantly hit it off and became

fast friends who go to lunches and happy hours almost every week. He even took to Gayle as well, and the three of us often spend weekends together. Only problem is, Ben is a super flirt and a serial player. His charm gets him almost any girl he wants, and, well, he wants them all. He has had sex with more women in the last year than I ever have with men in my whole life. Ben hasn’t ever asked me out though, and has never tried to get into my pants. I’ve never seen him (well maybe once or twice) look at me with lust in his eyes. It almost makes me mad. Well, it does make me mad. Why doesn’t he ever try it on with me? That’s why I want to blow him away at the fundraiser. I just want to feel like he really notices me. And, well, it would also be nice if he fell in love with me as well. So, it was with a feeling of joy that I walked over to Blake. I knew I looked pretty good. I had on some new jeans and black pumps, with a nice new silk top that accentuated my bosoms, which were looking pretty perky thanks to my new Victoria’s Secret push-up bra (I was actually slightly worried that the bosoms were on display a bit too much and that I might have a technical difficulty. This was due to the fact that the bra didn’t exactly fit properly and they were barely contained. One odd movement, and they could have come popping out, like a jack-in-the-box). With all eyes on me, and my adrenaline pumping, I decided to be a little reckless. “Oh, Blake, there you are, darling,” I semi-ran the rest of the way to him and gave him a big hug and kissed him on the cheek. To say he looked taken aback was an understatement. Poor guy. I mentally told myself to include a bonus of 50 dollars in my first payment for the personal training session (I have no idea where any of this money is going to come from. I’ll have to get a second job or something). I sat down and tried not to look over at Blake to see his reaction. The menus were already on the table, and he picked his up. “Thanks for coming to brunch with me, Maggie. I know you must be wondering why I asked you...” he started. “Oh, no. It’s my pleasure,” I gave him a winning smile and laughed loudly. I could see Gayle, Lola, and Ben doing everything they could to stop themselves from staring at the table. I hoped they were all jealous. I bet they never thought they would see the day when I, Maggie Lane, was on a date with possibly the best-looking man in Los Angeles, and, well, I was thinking they’d have to show me a bit more respect from now on. I reached over and grasped his hand firmly and spoke up a little louder for

my audience. “Of course, I would accept any other invitations you had for me at any time.” Blake looked a bit confused then and stared at our intertwined hands. I realized I was acting a bit over-the-top, blamed my high-school drama days, and quickly dropped his hand. As I looked at his face, something about the expression in his eyes looked familiar to me and I wondered if perhaps I had seen him before somewhere. Maybe he was a TV actor. He was good looking enough to be one. He was most probably one of those actors from the Hallmark Movie Channel or Lifetime. You know the ones. They’re in every other film on the channel, and you recognize their face everytime you see them, but you still don’t know their name. I wondered what it would be like to be face-famous, but have no name recognition. I didn’t want to ask him if he was on TV though, so I just looked down at the menu. Glancing through the menu, my heart started to thump. These prices were expensive. I mean, a meal here would pretty much delete my bank account. While Gayle, Lola, and Ben might have been under the impression that I was on a date, I really wasn’t, and honestly, I didn’t know if there was even an understanding or expectation that he would pay for my meal. I mean, he was the one who invited me, but did that mean he had to pay? Argh, the fun and joy I had experienced just minutes before were quickly leaving my body. The realities of the situation were that: 1. I couldn’t afford to buy a meal here. 2. I couldn’t afford to pay for any personal training lessons. 3. I was too lazy to get a second job to pay for personal training lessons. 4. There was no way in hell he was a CIA operative looking to hire me to be a covert spy. I glanced up and realized that my brain had drifted away and I had not been listening to what Blake was saying. I assumed that he had started his pitch for the personal training lessons. “Look, I need to tell you something,” I whispered. I noticed that Gayle and Lola were taking turns trying to surreptitiously stare at our table. I didn’t want them to hear what I had to say to Blake. Blake hadn’t heard me and was still talking about something. I decided to grab his hand again to get his attention. “I need to tell you something,” I whispered a little louder while grabbing his hand. He stopped in mid-sentence. I would have laughed at the expression on his face if it hadn’t been directed at me. He looked absolutely flabbergasted by me grabbing his hand and I was pretty sure he was most probably wondering if I

was a bit crazy in the head. “Blake, I need to tell you something.” I let go of his hand while I had his attention. “Why are we whispering?” he looked at me, puzzled. I thought for a second and then moved my chair closer to his. He already thought I was crazy, but Gayle, Lola, and Ben didn’t know that this wasn’t really a date, so I figured I could try and keep one facade up. As I pulled up closer to him, I whispered in his ear, “My friends are sitting in the corner spying on us, because they think we are on a date, and they wanted to give me feedback on our body language, and, well, it’s been 2 years since I’ve been on a date, and I didn’t want them to think I was a loser, and I realize now that lying is bad, but I would really appreciate it if you went along with me on this for the rest of lunch. And, well, I guess I should also tell you that I can’t afford to pay for any personal training sessions, but I am willing to pay for my own brunch today, even though that may bust my bank account. But oh, that’s not your problem.” And then, as I reached back from whispering, I kissed him on the cheek again. Might as well get Ben good and jealous while I still had the opportunity. I looked up at Blake then to see if he was dreadfully mad. His eyes were dancing, and it looked like he was holding back a laugh. Not the face I was expecting to see. “Who?” he asked me, looking around the room. I knew what he was asking. “In the corner, the two girls and the guy.” “I should have known,” he smiled again, “they’ve been looking over here every couple of minutes and whispering. I assumed they thought we were some sort of Hollywood stars or something,” and he laughed. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t an actor. No real actor would make a comment like that. How did I recognize him then? He was taking this better than I thought, and, well, I was quite happy that he included me in the Hollywood star part. “Yeah, they are a bit obvious, aren’t they?” “More than a bit.” He grinned, showing me his perfect white teeth. I stared at his lips for a few seconds and swallowed hard. He had very kissable lips. Very very kissable. The waiter approached then and asked if we were ready to order. We asked for a few more minutes. Me, because I was debating between something cheap and unfulfilling or something yummy but bank-breaking. “So, your friends think we are on a date, you think I’m a personal trainer, and your bank account has seen better days, huh?” Blake looked at me and winked and I could tell that he was holding back a laugh.

I nodded my head in shame. I mean what could I say? It was all the truth. And I did try my best to be as honest as possible. “So, I’m guessing you haven’t listened to a word I’ve said since we’ve been here?” he continued, shaking his head at me. I nod my head again. Laughter rippled through his body, and he couldn’t contain himself from letting it out. “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you. This is just so ironic,” he wiped tears from his eyes. I didn’t quite know what was going on. Maybe he was a madman after all. Thank God I had my backups here. “I did wonder about your voicemail the other day, mumbling on about personal training, but I figured you were just trying to let me know you were the girl from the gym.” He continued. “I should have clarified earlier, I suppose.” “So you’re not a personal trainer then?” “No, not at all.” I let out a sigh of relief. I didn’t feel quite so bad about not being able to pay for any sessions now. “I should also let you know that I don’t think I will be able to sign up for the CIA at this time,” I decided to tell him now, just in case he tried to bribe me into enlisting because I had completely wasted his time this morning. Yeah, I know. I’m a bloody idiot. Sometimes I think I should become a comedian because it seems like I have natural skills at making a fool of myself. “Sign up for the CIA?” he once again looked at me confused. I, of course, decided to babble on anyway. “Yeah, unfortunately, I just signed a new contract with the nonprofit I work at, We Love to Read, and, well, it’s for 2 years, and the kids really love me, and, well, yeah, I just don’t think I can leave. Legally, you know.” “Leave the nonprofit to join the CIA, you mean?” “Yeah, I mean it’s a great honor, but you know, I wouldn’t feel quite right.” “What if I told you the benefits were amazing and we would double your present salary?” He grinned at me. All I heard was ‘double your present salary’. “Shoot,” I thought, “the kids would understand that part.” And I looked up again to find him laughing again. He was laughing so hard that his head was rocking back and forth and tears were welling up in his eyes. I was slightly annoyed at his laughing at me, but boy was he handsome. “So let me get this straight. Now that you know I’m not a personal trainer trying to woo you for your money, the money you don’t even have, you think I’m with the CIA trying to recruit you?” he could barely manage to get out the words with all the laughing he was doing. I was slightly indignant. It wasn’t that much of a stretch that the CIA would

be trying to recruit me (okay, so maybe it was, but he didn’t know me well enough to know that). I decided I wasn’t going to dignify his remark by responding to that comment directly. “So, why is it that you gave me your card then, Mr. Connor?” I attempted to act formally toward him. My pride and ego were slightly hurt, and my stomach was rumbling. There was a Burger King just a few blocks over, and I figured I could just leave now and go through the drive-thru and get a Whopper Jr. and small fries off the 99-cent value meal menu. My bank account could handle that. “Maggie, Maggie, Maggie - you haven’t changed at all, have you?” I looked at him suspiciously. What was he talking about, ‘haven’t changed’? Did he know me from somewhere? Oh God, he hadn’t seen that audition video I’d made for American Idol years ago? It had gone slightly viral and not in a good way. “Um, do I know you from somewhere?” Or was he some sort of Internet stalker? Of course. Only a psychopath or someone crazier than me would still be sitting with me at this table after everything I had revealed. Blake scratched his face and looked at me. He then stuck his tongue out at me and pushed his nose up. Something about his facial expression stirred memories in my brain. “How’s Chad?” “Chad, you mean my brother Chad?” I knew it. He was some sort of stalker. He had most probably been watching me for weeks on my way to the grocery store and movie theater. Had he Googled me and found out all my personal information? “Yeah, Chad ‘crazy hats’ Lane,” he laughed. I thought for a moment and processed. Who was this guy? In all reality, I could have wished to have a stalker as good-looking as him. “How do you know his nickname?” “Wow, you really don’t remember me?” he looked at me with a pout. His eyes searched mine and there was a disappointed expression on this face. I felt slightly guilty then. I had managed to make this gorgeous man disappointed and it made me feel bad. “Nope, sorry. I’ve never met a Blake before in my life.” I wasn’t about to add that I also would never have forgotten a man as gorgeous as he was. “What about a William?” “William? William Connor ... Oh my God, Billy Connor, is that you?” I shrieked. William Connor had been my older brother Chad’s best friend all through elementary school and the first two years of high school, but he had moved junior year, and they had fallen out of contact. Chad and Billy were four

years older than me, so I’d never been in the same school as them and basically had to beg them to let me hang around with them and play. But no, this couldn’t be Billy Connor? This gorgeous hunk of a man was my brother’s skinny, acneridden friend Billy Connor? No way! “Are you kidding me right now?” I squinted up at him, waiting for him to laugh again and say it was some sort of joke. “It’s me, Maggie Moo,” and then he grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “This is for your friends in the corner’s benefit.” A surge of warmth ran through my body. Oh me, oh my. This was definitely Billy. Only he and Chad ever called me Maggie Moo. It wasn’t a nickname I had ever loved. I mean who wants to be referred to as a cow every time their name is spoken? “It’s Maggie. And why do you go by Blake now?” I looked at him questioningly. Did he have some sort of criminal record? Was he hiding from the mob? “Don’t you remember? My legal name is Blake William Connor, the third.” “No, sorry.” I’d never called him anything other than Billy. “Well, I just go by my legal name now. Have done for a while now.” “Wow, it’s been so long. So how has everything been? What do you do now? And how did you know who I was?” “Maggie Moo, I saw you as soon as you walked into the gym. And I recognized your face right away. You haven’t changed, not one bit. I was coming over to say hi when you fell off the treadmill,” he held back a laugh. “I didn’t fall off the treadmill,” I gasped out indignantly. “There was some sort of malfunction.” “Uh-huh”. “I’ve a mind to sue, you know.” “Uh-huh.” He was grinning now. I couldn’t help but stare at his lips, so pink and lush. “Well, Blaaake,” I say, stressing his new name, “why didn’t you introduce yourself when you so gallantly helped me up or gave me your card?” “I didn’t think it was the right time,” he smirked. “It looked like you were trying to get out of Dodge pretty quickly. I didn’t think you wanted to stand around the gym and catch up with me all night.” He was right, of course. The embarrassment I’d felt at the gym that day after the wink episode and falling had been so extreme that I wouldn’t have felt any sort of happiness at realizing that my rescuer was actually an old friend. “How did you know I’d call?” “I know you, Maggie Moo. I’ve known you since you were 4 years old. I knew you would call.”

We both knew what he was talking about. I’d had an obsession with phone calls since I was 7, calling random people from the phone book almost every day just to have phone conversations. Oh, the trouble I had gotten into after I found out you could call people from the late-night TV commercials as well. Oh, the trouble. But hey, the advice that Lady Cleo gave me on those 10 different occasions has stuck with me my whole life. It was worth the shouting I’d gotten when the $800 phone bill had arrived. And the five months I had to work at Papa Johns to pay my parents back. “But I never would have guessed you were still a crazy maniac,” and with that, he laughed some more. His eyes lit up as he stared at my face and I laughed along with him, even though I wasn’t that happy at being called a crazy maniac. “Can I do something?” He asked me softly with a small smile? “What?” “Shall we make your fans day?” “How?” “Like this.” He said and with that he leaned forward and gave me a quick peck on the lips. It only lasted for about three seconds, but in my head and in my body, it last for about five minutes. I was immediately transported back to high school and my first kiss. That magical feeling of being kissed by someone you fancy cannot be beat. And even though, it wasn’t a real kiss, I couldn’t stop myself from seeing stars in my eyes as I looked at him. “Oh Blake.” I said as I blushed slightly. We just looked at each other for a few seconds in silence before he changed the subject and asked me how Chad was doing. I could barely think straight as I responded. Something in me had changed slightly and I didn’t really know what it was.

5 Dear Diary, I need to write a children’s book. I also need to get into tiptop shape. Preferably by next week. I’ve also taken a liking to lawyers. Perhaps they are not all as bad as I thought? I also don’t know if the name Maggie Bonkers suits me. Not that Ben and I are any closer to making the name change happen or anything. I was just playing around with a pen and a notepad, and, well, it struck me that the name Maggie Bonkers might make people think I’m crazy. Or a nymphomaniac. Which I’m not. Well, I may be slightly crazy, because isn’t that what makes you know you are sane? Because if you think about it, truly crazy people have no clue that they are out of it. But I’m definitely not a nympho, not by a long shot. And unless Blake Cooper comes knocking on my door tonight, I don’t think that’s going to change anytime soon. Gayle and Lola weren’t happy when I told them that Blake was my brother’s childhood friend and not really a hot date. I had wanted to continue up the farce after the kiss, but I just didn’t know how to make them think he was my boyfriend when he was most probably going to be in my life a lot from now on. They’d been pretty mad, when I’d told them that he had kissed me to egg them on. They hadn’t been prepared to pay an exorbitant amount for brunch that day either, and were none too happy that it had been for naught. I nearly offered to reimburse them, but was worried they would accept the offer and then I’d be in even bigger trouble. Serves them right for being nosey. Ben didn’t seem to mind though. He said he was pleased, that he didn’t think Blake was my type. I don’t know what he meant by that. Did he really think a good-looking guy wouldn’t be my type, or was it that Blake wouldn’t be interested in someone like me? I sort of thought he sounded a bit jealous when we talked at lunch today, but as soon as he found out the truth, he started telling me about some hot chick called Brandy that he had met at the gym. I felt a twinge of jealousy for a couple of seconds, but continued laughing and listening to him. Maybe when I finally lose the weight, Ben will be interested in me. It didn’t hurt that Blake was now in the back of my mind as well. I wouldn’t mind getting a second and much longer kiss from him. Now I didn’t know if I should bother with my Ben daydream any longer.

Gayle always asks me if I would even want Ben if he did decide one day that he wanted me. Would I ever be able to trust him, she asks. Do I really think he has it in him to be faithful? And do I really want someone who was only into me after I lost some weight? I don’t know what to say to that. I never really thought it through that far. In my mind, Ben Bonkers falling in love with me is as likely as Blake Cooper asking me to marry him. Sad, but true. Though it may not be that unlikely that Blake Cooper would ask me to marry him. Well, I guess I should say that it may not be unlikely that I may one day see him again. It turns out that Blake is a lawyer at an entertainment law firm downtown, and he represents a lot of famous clients. He works alongside agents from one of the big Hollywood agencies, and, well, he does a lot more stuff, but I kind of drifted off when he told me some of the people he represents. I didn’t tell Gayle and Lola that part though, because I couldn’t remember if he told me the information was private and confidential or not. I told Blake about my job at the literacy nonprofit and how I want to write children’s books. He was very encouraging. He says he can introduce me to an agent who helps movie studios buy the rights to children’s books and then make them into movies. He says the guy was a big part of the ‘Show Me Where the Things Are’ adaptation. I was impressed and pleased. Blake didn’t even ask me if he could read my book before he introduced me. He says he remembers the short stories I would write and act out for him and Chad when I was a child and that if I am that entertaining now, he has no doubt that what I have written is phenomenal. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that the book isn’t actually finished as yet. Not even started. I mean, I’ve seen people’s looks before when I tell them I want to be a children’s author. “Oh, what’s your book about?” they say eagerly, ready to get into a discussion about their favorite authors. “Oh, well, it’s not fully formulated as yet,” I mumble, trying to put it as discreetly as possible. “What’s it about, though?” the response is quite eager. “Um, well, I’m still working on the characters.” I’m always embarrassed at this point and chiding myself for not having learnt my lesson the last time I said I wanted to be an author and got into a conversation like this. “Oh, so you haven’t written anything then?” It’s at this point that I know the other person has lost all interest in talking about my upcoming children's book and has possibly labeled me as a lazy wannabe.

I didn’t want to see that same look of disappointment in Blake’s eyes, if I told him that I don’t actually have a book completed as yet. It’s unfortunate that he also now thinks I have a trilogy of some sort completed and that it is just waiting to go through final edits. I didn’t deliberately lie. I was really just trying to impress him with all my knowledge and wanted to show him that I was serious about my writing. I recently read that the way to go with writing these days is to self-publish. And I didn’t care if I self-published or traditionally published if someone was going to read my book or series of books. I may have mentioned to him that I was writing a trilogy. Well, for some reason, Blake misinterpreted my excited babble about getting rich to mean that I had the trilogy ready to go. And due to all his connections, he is pretty confident he can get me an agent. Which is really great news. I mean, when else will I ever have the opportunity to get a great agent this easily? I have given myself a few weeks by telling him I really need to revise and edit before I can go on a lunch date with him to pitch my book to someone. But now I actually have to write something and make it good. It’s time for me to hit the coffee shops again, like Gayle and I did in college. Sometimes what you need is the impetus to get going, when you are a creator. Or a want-to-be creator. But it’s not like my goal to be the next Monet or Van Gogh. I mean if I wanted to be a painter, I would be in trouble. A lot of trouble. I can’t even color in the lines that well. I can actually write. At least, I was told in high school and college that I have talent. I did write a whole book once, my magnum opus or piece d’resistance, or so I liked to think of it. And I dedicated it to the love of my life at the time, Charles Killjoy. We had a typical college romance, not even lasting six months. But like every other typical hopeless romantic, I believed he was the one the first day I met him. It seemed like fate to me, that we met at the ice cream shop and ordered the same flavor of ice cream at the same time. And when we both asked for the whole-wheat icecream cone, well, it made us glance at each other and laugh (I have never admitted this to anyone, but I only ordered the whole wheat cone because he had. Maybe that’s why it never really worked out; we weren’t really soul mates who shared a love of all things whole wheat, we were two people who liked strawberry ice cream who ended up being in the same store at the same time). Unfortunately, I had gotten it into my head that we were soul mates. I decided this right after our chat in the store, so I got his email address and phone number, with the pretense of wanting to introduce him to an entire line of wholewheat products that would change his life. If you didn’t know already, I am a white flour kind of girl, and whole wheat has never knowingly entered my shopping basket at the grocery store. However, all is fair in love and war, and,

well, for love I could eat some whole wheat. I spent about 2 days on the Internet researching the best whole-food products and looking for local stores that actually carried the brands before I emailed Charles. I figured that an email was less obnoxious than calling, and that I wouldn’t feel as bad if he didn’t really want to talk to me. However, he responded pretty promptly to my email, and we corresponded back and forth for a week before I was able to get a first date by inviting him over to try some of the delicious food I could make with all the whole-wheat and natural products I was now into. And he loved it. It was the most appreciative response I’d ever had to a meal I had cooked. My biggest mistake was trusting Charles with the truth. After a few months of pretending I loved whole wheat as much as he did, I decided to come clean and let him know that I actually hated whole wheat and had just said it to gain his love. I’d thought that our love was strong enough and had written a book about the ultimate love story. The book had been written with us as the main characters and was completed about 2 weeks before Charles dumped me. He told me that he just couldn’t get over all the lies I had told and that he just couldn’t trust me anymore. He had gone on and on about how he had really tried to not let my lies affect our relationship. I had felt pretty guilty for a while until I found out that he was actually a cad and had blamed me for the demise of our relationship while he was actually boinking some new girl he had met at the gym. Needless to say, the novel was just a reminder of all the pain I went through and now that the real relationship had combusted, the relationship in the book only made me sad and depressed. Obviously, I should have learned a greater lesson from that whole experience, something along the lines of ‘lies never get you anywhere’, but I hadn’t intended on lying to Blake and I fully believed that I could get a children's book written in time if I fully applied myself. Ideas for Children’s Book 1. High school girl realizes she is a witch and has to go to witch school. (No, that sounds too much like a female Harry Potter.) 2. Teenage boy falls in love with shy, naive girl but dates the popular chick to keep up the status quo (plotline is too similar to every 80’s movie starring John Cusack). 3. Trio of friends travel to new world and have to figure a way to get back to Earth with help from a robot from Mars (sounds like most sci-fi stories set on another planet).

4. Girl meets up with her brother’s childhood best friend and they go on an adventure in the jungle and fall in love (Would Blake think he was the inspiration?).

6 Dear Diary, I am starting to like going to the gym. It gives me time to allow my brain to focus on nothing other than the music coming through my headphones. Oh, and the cute eye candy. I have been thoroughly overwhelmed with trying to write this children’s book and with Gayle hassling me about the marathon. Ben Bonkers has also been dating someone for about a month, which gives me cause for concern. He never ‘dates’ anyone for longer than a few weeks before he moves on, and I am starting to think it is something serious. Lola thinks I should tell him how I feel before it is too late and he gets into a serious relationship. Gayle thinks I should examine my real feelings for him and sort them out before I say anything. She doesn’t think what I am feeling for him is real. I’m not really sure what to do. “Maggie, I really want you to meet Jasmine. Can you make lunch on Saturday?” Ben looked at me with excitement. My stomach started to feel nauseous. He had never wanted me to meet a girl he was dating before. They had always been expendable. “Jasmine?” I pretended I didn’t remember every single word he’d told me about her, from her cat-like green eyes to her black silky hair. I didn’t want him to know that every time I saw ballet shoes or a leotard now, I frowned, thinking about her doing pliés in some studio somewhere. “Don’t you remember? I showed you her photo a few weeks ago.” He looked puzzled. I suppose it was a bit implausible to believe I’d forgotten every second of that conversation. It had lasted an hour, and I had interrogated him for information with question after question. I always did that though, never expecting that the girl in question would still be around a month later. I wanted him to think about the answers and realize that I matched the answers that he gave, that the love of his life was sitting right in front of him. “I’m not sure ...” I stared off into space, trying to pretend that I was thinking hard. “You know, the ballet dancer, Jasmine, the girl I told you has the amazing...” “Oh, yes, I remember,” I cut him off quickly. I didn’t want to hear any sordid details about their love life. When we had first become friends, I would delight

in the fact that Ben told me explicit details about his relationships. I thought it meant that we were bonding, getting closer. I hadn’t realized he’s just the type of guy who likes bragging about his conquests and would literally tell the office cleaners about his dirty adventures any time they deigned to listen. It was when I started feeling physical pangs of jealousy that I started to change the topic. He seemed to notice that I was no longer as receptive, because he never even tried to tell me any dirty stories anymore. “So, Saturday? It will be my treat.” He smiled at me, obviously thinking he had this one in the bag. He knows free food is my weakness. “I don’t know. I’m busy on Saturday. Gayle asked me to go on a run.” Which was true, she had asked me to go for another run in the Hollywood Hills. Only this time, I had told her no, and she had accepted my answer. She knows I’m trying to get my book done to show Blake and is supportive of my writing. Plus, I told her I was keeping up with my running at the gym, which is half true. I have gone to the gym twice in the last few weeks, and I enjoyed it and can even run on the treadmill for about 4 minutes now before I’m completely winded. I’ve promised myself I’ll double up on my working out after my book is written. That deadline is coming up a lot faster than the marathon is. “Please, Maggie. I really want you to meet her. You can even choose the restaurant,” Ben begged me. Conflicting emotions arose in me. I was happy and excited that I would get to choose the place to eat and that he so obviously wanted me to meet her, but I was also sad because he so obviously wanted me to meet her. I wished that he was begging me for a date, without any third party involved. I’d already imagined/daydreamed in my head a million times how it would go. We’d be at a coffee shop having some hot chocolate and a slice of red velvet cake from Sprinkles, discussing a movie we had just seen at the movie theater. I’d be laughing and trying not to stuff the cake in my mouth, and he would just start staring at me as if he had just noticed me for the first time. You know the gaze — the one in every boy-and-girl-are-best-friends-and-boy-realizes-he-is-inlove-with-her movie that has ever been made. “I never noticed how sparkly and warm your brown eyes were before,” he’d say as if in a trance, staring deep into my eyes. He’d reach his hand up to my face and wipe the crumbs off my lips. “Such a messy eater,” he’d laugh. “But at least I eat,” I’d say indignantly. He’d laugh at my pout and kid. “Yes you do, that’s why I love ya.” And as he said those words, he would realize

through a warm feeling flowing from his stomach to his heart that those words weren’t just a joke. That he actually, really did love me. And he’d grab my hand and he’d say, “Maggie Lane, you are so precious. Don’t ever change. Not for anyone.” And then I would realize that the conversation had taken a serious turn and would look up at him and suddenly feel shy. What came next always differed in my mind, but it always ended with him telling me how much he loved me and how he couldn’t believe he was so lucky to have met someone like me. “So where’s it to be?” Ben broke my reverie. “I really don’t think I can make it, Ben,” I tried to be firm. It wasn’t easy, and I’m not sure how well it worked. Most of my friends know that I’m a bit of a pushover. He pouted deliberately. “But I really want my best-girl friend to meet my girlfriend and tell me what she thinks.” He really knew how to push my buttons. I delighted in the fact that I was Ben’s best friend. I liked to think of all those romantic quotes that talked about best friends making the best lovers and spouses. Even though it didn’t seem to be working out that way for me yet. “Girlfriend?” I spoke a little too loudly, the shock apparent in my voice. Ben grinned. “Yup, we made it official last night. She asked me what we were and where it was going, and I said ‘F-it. I’m not getting any younger; why not give it a chance.’” “Wow,” was all I could manage as my nervous system went to pieces and I tried to manage a brave smile and look like I was happy for him. “I know, you never thought I’d be in a real relationship, eh?” I wanted to wipe the smile off his face. It was true that I had always implored him to stop his dalliances and to get into a real relationship. Only I had wanted it to be with me. I’d rather he went from woman to woman than actually be in love with someone else. I knew it was selfish, but I couldn’t help it. “So now you have to meet her. My two favorite girls have to get along.” I told him yes because I needed to get out of the conversation quickly, as tears were starting to well up in my eyes. I was just too emotional right then. I was already feeling overwhelmed about the marathon and the book, and this was just the icing on the cake. “Yes, yes, sure. I’ll work something out with Gayle. But I have to go now. So we will talk later,” I jumped up quickly. “Where are you going?” he looked a little put out that I was ending our conversation so quickly. “Oh, I have to meet Blake. He wanted to talk about some things,” I said

distractedly, gathering my handbag and possessions. I noticed Ben’s eyes narrow and the quick frown on his face, and I might have beefed it up a little bit more to make him jealous. But I was about to cry. I just gave him a quick hug and left. “I’ll tell you where I want to eat tomorrow,” I shouted back to him as I walked out the door. I’ll have to think of an expensive place to eat to make up for the emotional trauma I have to endure while at lunch with Ben and Ms. Perfect.

* * * I was sitting on my bed, stroking a sleeping Lucy, and feeling sorry for myself when my phone beeped, indicating that I’d gotten a text message. I grabbed the phone up quickly and saw that Blake had texted me. My heart jumped slightly for a few seconds and I smiled as I opened the message. Blake: Hey, how’s it going? Maggie: Okay, I guess. How are you? Blake: Great. Why just okay? Maggie: I just suck at love. That’s all. :( Blake: I’m sure you don’t suck. :( Maggie: I can’t get a boyfriend to save my life. Blake: I’m sure you can. Maggie: Yeah. Le Sigh. Blake: Would you like to meet up for lunch tomorrow? Maggie: Sure. Blake: I think I might have a suggestion for you. Maggie: Oh what? Blake: You’ll have to wait and see. Maggie: Ugh. Blake: See you tomorrow, Maggie-Moo. Maggie: Just Maggie thanks. Blake: :P

7 Dear Diary, I’m not a flaky kind of person, and I never usually have more than one crush at a time. For God’s sake, I’m 27. I shouldn’t even be having crushes, but something about Blake makes me all happy inside. I feel almost guilty about it, as if I am cheating on Ben. I know, I know, there is nothing between Ben and me, and it is time for me to move on with my life. It’s just that I’ve entertained the thought of Ben and me being together for so long, that it’s almost like I believe we are fated to be together. Gayle has done her best to tell me to move on with my life and start dating, and, well, I’ve wanted to but never knew where to start. And I was never quite ready to accept that Ben and I would never be. I think I’m ready now. I don’t know if it is because he now has a girlfriend or because Blake is in my life again. Oh, Blake! But I’m ready for the dreams to become reality. “Shit,” I muttered to myself as I tried to find a parking spot for my car. I was late. Again. I don’t want Blake to think I am disrespectful of his time, but it just seems as if I can never be on time when meeting him. I ran into the restaurant, looking around for him, hoping he wasn’t mad. I almost stopped dead when I saw him, beaming at me from the table. I was struck once again by his good looks and boyish smile. He is a man with a boy’s charm and his friendly look put me at ease right away. “Maggie, over here,” he called out to me and waved. I walked over, trying to look graceful but feeling like a gangly teenager once again. Blake got up and gave me a hug as I approached the table. His body was warm, and I wanted to melt right into him. “What, no kiss today?” he teased me as I sat down. “Maybe when I leave, if you’re lucky,” I shot back. I was actually quite stunned inside. I’ve never been able to flirt with guys I find attractive. I usually get all tongue-tied and googly-eyed. But with Blake it’s easy, maybe because I’ve known him since I was a child; I mean, he has already seen me at my most immature. “So how is the revision coming along?” He smiled at me as he leaned back in his chair. I didn’t know what to think. Was he testing me? Did he realize that there was no revision going on because the book wasn’t done? Not even a third

of the way written. “It’s coming okay. You know how it is.” “So, tell me about it. I’m all eager and excited.” A huge grin spread upon his face. It was a private joke. When we were younger, I’d always gotten mad at him for not paying attention to me when I told my stories. I’d tell him I wanted a more eager audience, and that I wanted to see that he cared about what I was talking about. He had never changed his expression and always seemed as if he wanted to be anywhere but there when I was talking to him, but he had listened to me more than Chad had. In fact, Chad would leave the two of us in his room while he went to go and play video games and ride his bike. He’d shout up to Blake to just leave me and come on downstairs. But Blake had always stayed. Hmm, I’d never really thought about that before. It had to be annoying to him to listen to me talk about Anna and Sue (my two best friends at the time), and then complain about the latest boy who wasn’t calling me. “Are you going to tell me what your great idea was?” “In a little bit, patience, dear Maggie.” “Ugh, I hate having to be patient.” I groaned and sipped on some water. “Hey, quick question, Blake.” “Sure, shoot.” “Why did you listen to me babble on so much when we were younger? I must have been a teen drama queen personified, always going on about different guys and different hair-brained schemes to get their attention. Why did you put up with it?” He laughed. “You know, Maggie Moo, there were a million times that I wanted to throttle you or tell you to shut-up, but I enjoyed you trusting me enough to open up like that to me. You always made me feel like I was your big brother.” “I did?” I didn’t quite understand how that was. I’d had a little bit of a crush on him. Even though he’d been acne ridden and nowhere near as cute as he was now. “Yeah, no one who was concerned about manners or etiquette would ever put their business out there like that and babble on and on and on. You didn’t care. You treated me just like you did Chad. It made me feel like I was truly part of the family.” “But I was so rude and snotty to you.” “But that’s how you were to Chad. That’s the dynamic brothers and sisters have. And I liked it. It was hard growing up as an only child, but you made me feel like I was surrounded by siblings. Because frankly, one of you equaled at least 3 sisters in normal families, I’m sure.”

I couldn’t help but join him in his laughter. I was indeed the queen of drama and could have been the main character in at least 3 different soaps. It wasn’t in just one area of my life that there was commotion; it seemed to invade my whole being, from friends, to boyfriends, to school, to family, to the families I dogwalked for, to the local grocery stores I bought products from, there was always something going on. “You know, I missed you more than Chad when I moved.” Blake looked at me seriously. “I missed my little sister. Chad was my best friend, and, well, I missed my best friend, but with you? With you, it was like leaving family behind.” “Oh wow, I didn’t know that.” I felt a little guilty. While I had missed Blake, it had been more because I missed my sounding board and the only person who ever listened to me garble on for hours without their eyes glazing over or trying to then bore me with their problems as well. Yes, I had also been the quintessential bad friend in that regard. I really loved to talk about my own problems but never really listened. I grew out of that phase, thank God, or I’m sure I wouldn’t have any friends anymore. “Hey, let’s not get all sappy. I’m glad we’ve reconnected. Tell me about your book and anything else that is going on with your life. I’m all ears, and I’m sure you haven’t changed that much, Moo-moo.” I swatted his shoulder at the Moo-moo, but felt a warmness inside me. Chad had moved to Germany about six years ago when he met a German girl while traveling through Europe, and there were times that I really missed having my big brother around. I was a bit disappointed that Blake saw me as a little sister; it seemed as if my daydreams of kissing him all night were a bit inappropriate now, but really, who’s to say that those visions are wrong? I mean, it’s not as if we are blood-related or anything. “So ... the book is going okay,” I began. I mean even though we have this newly-developed closeness, there was no way that I was going to tell him that the book was not even nearly done. “What’s it about?” I could tell that Blake was genuinely interested. Oh, why couldn’t he have been one of those people who asks you a question and then continues on talking about themselves? Normally, I can’t stand that, but in this instance it would have been ideal. “So the book is about, um, this girl called Jenny and she uh, well, she has the ability to become a butterfly during the summer months.” “A butterfly?” “Yes, she becomes a monarch butterfly. It has to do with her metamorphosis from a caterpillar. You have to read it to really understand,” I say, a little

indignantly. “Oh, I see, interesting. And what does she do with this ability?” “Well, she flies around and, um...” “Are there other people with this ability in the book?” Blake interrupted me, genuinely interested in learning more about these butterfly-human beings. I wanted to smack him across the head. Really? A girl who turns into a butterfly? How awful was that plot? Who would really be interested in reading that drivel? Maybe I’d tell him that her turning into a butterfly was a metaphor for her starving herself and only eating lettuce. That the book was a scrutiny of life as a teenage girl and how they are similar to butterflies: pretty, flighty, and in danger of having their wings torn off by horrible boys. “Well, there are only girls who have this ability. They turn into butterflies as a way to camouflage themselves in awkward situations.” I was talking very animatedly and knowledgeably for someone who was making up the plot on the spot. I went into my handbag to grab a pen and paper. I was actually really beginning to like the premise. I wanted to make sure that I didn’t forget the ideas that I was spewing out now. “What are you writing?” “Oh, just some additional thoughts to include in the book in the second draft. Review and renew, that’s what I call this stage.” Blake watched me as I furiously scribbled every last word I had just said, or as I remembered it. I wasn’t sure how I was going to incorporate everything, but I liked the idea of a teenage girl being like a butterfly. I had a big grin on my face by the time I was done. I finally had an idea to start working with. That was always my biggest problem, and I was anxious to go home and get started. “So what happens next?” Blake asked. “Oh, oh, you don’t want to hear more about my book right now,” I babbled. “Why don’t you tell me all about your job and love life? I’ve been dying to hear more.” “Well, there is no love life worth talking about right now.” “What? I find that hard to believe!” My insides were screaming with happiness and excitement at his words. Oh my, I was going to go to Hell. How could I be this happy about my pseudo-brother being single? “Believe it, Maggie Moo, there is no one but you,” he laughed. “I’m a poet and I don’t even know it.” I swatted his arm again. It was firm beneath my touch. “Blake, if those are the lines you are approaching women with, then there is no wonder why you’re single!” I didn’t add that I was joking and that a million of those lines wouldn’t detract a female within a hundred miles of him. His handsome good looks and

incorrigible laugh and smile more than made up for some corny poems. “So what about you? Are we marrying you off anytime soon?” “Nope.” I made a face. “I did just tell you yesterday that I suck at love.” “What, not at all? I’m shocked. The boy-crazy Maggie I knew would no way be without some sort of man or crush in her life.” “Well, I didn’t say I didn’t have any interests in anyone,” I grinned back at him. “Remember Ben?” “The spy?” “Yes, the spy.” “Uh-huh.” “Well, you know. I have a slight thing for him.” “What sort of thing?” His face looked curious, but his tone was more tense now. My cell phone started ringing at that point. I groaned when I saw Gayle’s face blinking on the screen. I excused myself quickly and took the phone call. Gayle and I were meant to hit up the indoor track at the gym for a run, and she was calling to make sure that I had remembered. “Hey, sorry about that,” I said as I sat back down in my seat. “That was Gayle. We’re going for a run this afternoon, and she was just reminding me.” I pulled a face. “No worries. What are you running for?” “She convinced me to run a marathon with her in a few months, and, well, let’s just say that I am not prepared at all.” “A marathon, huh? How far can you run now?” “About 1 minute,” I mumble the last part. “One mile?” “One minute.” “One minute?” Blake tried to hide his smile. “I know, I know, I suck.” “Oh, Maggie,” and with that he erupted into laughter. “So tell me about this thing with Ben?” “There’s not much to tell. I like him, he doesn’t know I exist. No man knows I exist, that sort of thing.” I sighed dramatically and made a face. “I could help.” “How?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “What if I become your boyfriend coach?” “My boyfriend coach?” “Yeah, I can help you get Ben or whatever guy you really want.” He paused for a second. “Maybe there’s a better option out there for you.”

“Better than Ben Bonkers?” “Perhaps. From what I know of him, he didn’t exactly seem like God’s gift to women.” “He’s very cute!” “He’s okay.” His voice trailed off. “So, do you want my help.” “What exactly would your help consist of?” “Well, I’d have to do some preliminary tests to see where you stand right now.” He tilted his head to the side and studied my face and body as if he were some sort of doctor sizing me up for plastic surgery. It made me feel slightly uncomfortable and weirdly turned on. “Based on that, I would know what you needed help with.” “I need help with everything.” I groaned. “So then I’d teach you the art of seduction.” “Oh?” “For example, give me your best end of first date kiss.” “What?” My jaw dropped. “Now? With you?” “Yeah.” He grinned. “It’s important for you to know the right balance in a first date kiss.” “Balance?” I was confused. “What do you mean?” “How sexual to make it. When to pull away. What to do with your eyes. That sort of thing?” “Oh.” I swallowed hard. “So you want me to kiss you?” “As a test, so I know your level of flirtation skills.” “Uhm okay. As a test then.” I said. I took a deep breath and leaned forward. I closed my eyes and pressed my lips against his for about five seconds and then pulled away. When I finally opened my eyes again, he was just staring at me with a small smile. “So I see we have to start at the beginning there.” He said. “What?” I was offended. “I’m a good kisser.” “This is how you perform the perfect kiss.” He said and he moved his chair over to me. He leaned over, grabbed my neck and brought my face towards his. “Keep your eyes open.” He said, before his lips descended onto mine. His blue eyes gazed into mine as his lips pressed down firmly on mine. His fingers went up to my hair and he deepened the kiss, pushing the tip of his tongue into my mouth slightly, before pulling back slightly, tugging on my lower lip with his teeth for a few seconds. Then he kissed me firmly again and moved away from him. I was literally left gasping for air as he gazed at me. My heart was racing and my lips were tingling. I had never experienced a kiss like that before in my life. Never.

“And that’s how you do it.” He winked at me. “Lesson number one is done.”

8 Dear Diary, Most people want their friends to become friends with their other friends. But I don’t. Especially not when they gang up on me. It was a mistake telling Blake about my upcoming run, because he decided that he would join Gayle and me. He said it was perfect timing and he could help work as my ‘personal trainer’ for free. I wasn’t amused by his joke. The last thing I needed was someone else on my back, trying to encourage me into working out and running more. But of course Gayle thought it was a fabulous idea and invited him to join us this Saturday. And to make matters worse, the run has been moved to early morning to accommodate my lunch date with Ben and Jasmine. Does this sound like the work of two friends coming together for my good? I think not! My alarm clock went off at 5:15 a.m. Saturday morning, and I groaned. I was pretty sure this was going to go down as the worst Saturday in my life. I was also extremely worried that I would embarrass myself in front of both Gayle and Blake. Many people wondered why I was best friends with Gayle. They couldn’t understand what we could have in common. She was into fashion, health foods, and was an assertive editor at a top fashion magazine. She didn’t take crap and had little time for idle chat, gossip, and people with excuses. I was the antithesis of basically everything she valued in human beings, and yet, quite oddly, our friendship worked. Gayle and I met on the first day of college. We both got lost trying to locate our rooms, and I was marching up and down the hallway looking like a mad dog in heat. Gayle took me to the side and calmly told me that I should wait with her for the resident assistant, who would take us to our rooms. It all worked out pretty easily from there. We hadn’t been able to find our rooms because we were actually located on a different floor where we essentially ended up being next door neighbors. This turned out to be better than being actual roommates because I’m messy and she’s clean and it just wouldn’t have worked out if we had lived together. However, for a friendship, my lightness was what she needed to have some fun in life and her worrywart tendencies helped me to focus and concentrate on my studies when it was needed. Over time, she became a mother figure, but

that’s because she feels her maternal clock ticking and I have the perfect laidback type of personality that allows her to exercise her bossiness without feeling any sort of retribution. “Maggie, we’re here!” Gayle and Blake strode into my apartment looking like the morning people they both are. I brushed the sleep out of my eyes and gathered my curly hair back in a bobble. I was totally not up for this run, not at all. I glared at Gayle as much as I could while still being half-asleep and then turned to Blake. He gave me a huge smile and ruffled the top of my head. I tried to ignore the disappointment in me that he hadn’t tried to kiss me again. That kiss had been keeping me up at night. “Ready to go, Moo-moo?” he grinned. I hit him in the chest at his comment and gave him the harshest glare I could. I really didn’t want to be called Moo-moo, I hadn’t liked it as a child and I sure didn’t like it now. He grabbed a hold of my hand as I moved it away from his body and my fingers tingled as he held them for a few seconds. “Gimme a sec, folks. I’m nearly ready.” I said as I pulled away from him quickly. My body wasn’t sure how to act when it was around him. I saw Lucy glance up at all the activity going on in the room, but she quickly tucked her head back down and closed her eyes. Even though Lucy seemed to love running now, even she wasn’t foolish or eager enough to want to wake up early to do it. Traitor. I quickly ran into the bathroom and brushed my teeth and washed my face and came back out to see Blake staring at some of my family photographs and Gayle grabbing water bottles from the fridge. “Okay, folks, I’m ready.” Blake turned around with a sparkle in his eyes and looked me up and down. I wanted to slap him again but couldn’t be bothered to move over to the other side of the room. I was also scared that I would experience another warm rush of something through my body if I touched him again. Or even worse, maybe I’d ask him for lesson two in a way that showed him that I wanted it way too badly.

* * * It was beautiful watching the sun rise. Surprisingly, the run up the hill wasn’t so bad today. Maybe because my body is getting used to activity and maybe because I didn’t have Lucy charging ahead like a horse at the races. Blake ran

alongside me while Gayle went ahead, calling back for us to increase our pace. Eventually she grew tired of stopping and waiting on us and just went on ahead. “So, how’s the book coming?” “It’s coming,” I huffed. The morning was too pure and beautiful for me to ruin it with any lies. “But enough about me, tell me about you, Blake. How goes your job? Do you love being a top-shot lawyer?” We reached the top of the hill then, and when Blake plopped down on the grass for a rest, I could have kissed him on the lips. I truly didn’t think my body would hold up for much longer. “You know, it’s funny. I always wanted to be a lawyer. I thought I’d be able to help people and make a difference in the world. That people would come up to me and thank me and that I’d be that person they would never forget in helping them turn their lives around. But...” “But you are making a difference. Aren’t you, like, the youngest partner in your firm?” “That’s not the difference I wanted to make, you know. Yes, I help rich people and corporations, and yes, CEOs thank me for finding tax shelters and interpreting code that is beneficial for them, but it’s not the same.” “I can understand that.” I looked into Blake’s eyes, and they were engaged, staring into mine as if he was trying to let me see into his soul. I squeezed his hand. “Can’t you do something else, then?” “It’s not that easy. I’m the head of the department, and ...” he trailed off. “Whoa, this is some powerful talk for an early Saturday morning. Let’s go catch up with Gayle.” He jumped up and pulled me up with him. “If you ever want to talk, Blake, I’m here.” “I know.” He reached over and gave me a kiss on the cheek then. And it was all I could do to tell my heart to behave. “Race ya!” And with that, he was off. I started off after him, laughing. It was a game we’d always played as kids. Mainly it was used as a way for Blake to run away from me when I was too annoying. Chad would tell me that we were playing hide-and-seek and then Blake would challenge me to a race. Needless to say, that would be the last I’d see of them for the remainder of the day. I stopped running after a few minutes and only quickened my gait when I saw Blake and Gayle heading back down toward me. They seemed to be laughing about something, and it made me a little jealous, but only because I hoped it wasn’t at my expense. I had a feeling that Blake and Gayle had more in common than just being my friends, and I wasn’t really ready or eager to see the two of them together in any sort of romantic way. Not because I would be upset,

but because of the consequences if anything went wrong. I mean, of course I would support my best friend dating the man I thought I was beginning to have feelings for. My real problem would be how to choose between the two if they broke up. Gayle’s words broke into the dilemma I was solving in my mind. “So you’re meeting Jasmine today, huh?” Gayle grimaced at me. She knew I was not happy about the meeting and was likely hoping that I would finally get over Ben. It was weird because Gayle and Ben got along brilliantly, yet Gayle didn’t think Ben was good enough for me, and she always got really upset when I told her about the new girl he was dating. Somehow, it never seemed as if she was sad for me but rather for herself. “Yeah, another one of his bimbos. I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” I mumbled, annoyed. “I don’t know what his deal is.” “Whose deal?” Blake came up from behind us and joined in the conversation. “No one’s,” I said at the same time as Gayle said, “Ben’s.” “Ben No-one?” Blake smiled. “I’ve never met him, have I?” “We are talking about Ben,” I sighed, “You know, my coworker.” “Oh, your true love? The one I was used to make jealous?” Blake grinned. I knew he would never let me forget that brunch. “Yes, him.” I scowled at him. “So what’s the big deal with him now? He hasn’t given you the engagement ring you want?” “Something like that.” “So am I invited to the wedding?” Blake looked at me. “As one of your oldest friends, I expect I’ll have a large role to play.” “Blake, you are the most incorrigible, irritating ...” I couldn’t continue because Blake’s laughs were drowning out my words. Before I knew it, both Gayle and I had joined in the laughter. It was quite pathetic, really. “Maggie’s going to lunch with Ben and his new girlfriend Jasmine today.” Gayle decided to impart Blake with the knowledge that I had been holding back. “Oh.” He gave me a look and I avoided his gaze. “Yes, oh. So as you can see, there will be no wedding for Maggie any time soon.”

9 Dear Diary, Playing the jealousy game can be a dangerous thing. Because at the end of the day, it can be you who ends up more confused than ever. Isn’t that how it always goes? Blake decided to come to my aid and join my lunch with Ben and Jasmine to help make Ben jealous, and, well, it worked a bit too well. Only thing is, Blake went completely over the top, and I got carried away myself, and now I’m in even more of a mess. Sometimes, I swear that Blake is my twin. Our minds both seem to be from another planet. It was Gayle’s suggestion, though I have to admit that once she brought it up, I thought it was a great idea. I was through with meeting Ben’s girlfriends and acting like the dutiful, yet sad, best friend. Every time I meet one of these girls, she looks at me in pity. It’s quite obvious to them all that I have a crush on Ben and that he sees me as nothing more than his best friend. The only good thing is they all soon lose the pitying looks, because they all quickly learn that as his best friend, I am more important to him than they are. However, that doesn’t console me on the cold, lonesome nights when they are entwined with him in his bed while I’m stuck watching old Meg Ryan movies on Netflix, snuggled up to Lucy. It’s with an odd sense of calm that I take his calls and texts in the early hours of the morning after he leaves them in post-coital bliss, deciding that he just has to tell me what a mistake he made staying over and how he hopes said woman didn’t take it to mean too much. I don’t know how many times I’ve had to lecture him on sleeping with women and departing in the middle of the night. How dreadfully he treats them! But how good that makes me feel! “He’s not in love with this one, either,” I always say to myself, “so maybe there’s still hope for me.” Blake agreed to come with me to the lunch because, as he put it, “a good dose of jealousy could help Ben see what he’s missing.” I wasn’t exactly sure why a professional man like Blake would actually want to get involved with my stupidity, but I warmed up to the idea pretty quickly. If he wanted to be my boyfriend coach, then who was I to say no?. To say Ben was a little put off when we walked into the restaurant together was an understatement, and I have to say, a little thrill ran through me as Blake and I sat down across from Ben and

Jasmine, who looked like she was taken right out of a Disney cartoon. “Maggie, good to see you.” Ben gave me a kiss on the cheek. “And, sorry, I forgot your name?” He looked at Blake quizzically. “Blake.” He smiled. “And your name again?” “Ben.” He looked affronted that Blake could have forgotten his name. “This is Jasmine, my girlfriend.” Jasmine beamed with pride as if she had just been announced as the winner of the annual spelling bee, something I highly doubt she would make past the first round in. “Howdy, y’all.” Her perfect white teeth sparkled as she drawled her words. She swooshed her long, straight brown hair back and forth and fluttered her hands at us in a wave as if she were Ms. America saluting her fans. Instant dislike hit me. “Howdy.” I smiled back, flicking my curly wet hair with my hands. “Argh!” Jasmine screamed, wiping her face. Oops. My hair was still wet, and drops of water had hit her face after my flicking. “Oh, sorry,” I said sweetly, and then whispered under my breath, “Water’s not going to kill you.” Ben leaned over to Jasmine. “You okay, sweetie?” She smiled up at him. “I’m okay. I was just worried that water got in my eye and displaced my contact.” “Gimme a break,” I said, again under my breath. I could see Blake trying not to laugh. “So, Jasmine, what is it that you do?” I was going to put my best foot forward. I wanted to at least appear as if I was giving this bimbo a chance. “I’m getting my doctorate in cognitive science,” she answered me, sweetly. Water came spewing out of my mouth. “Are you okay, honey?” Blake patted my back as he stared at me with his eyes sparkling. “Just ... swallowed ... the ... water ... too quickly,” I got out, trying to keep the shock and disbelief out of my voice. “Cognitive science?” I turned to Princess Jasmine, not wanting to admit that I had no idea what that was. “Yes, I’m actually a student up at Berkeley, but I’m doing my primary research down here while teaching a class at UCLA.” Jasmine flounced her hair around a little bit more. I wanted to reach across the table and pull it out. “Oh.” I smiled. Blake reached over and squeezed my knee. “Ben, aren’t we lucky to be with such intelligent women?”

Ben narrowed his eyes at Blake, but I wasn’t able to bask in the glory and wonder if he was jealous, because Jasmine asked me a question. “So what do you do then, Maggie? Ben’s told me so much about you and how you are always there for him. I would have guessed you were his therapist, but then I don’t think you would have so much time to listen to his problems if you had other clients.” Jasmine laughed at her little joke. “I work with Ben at ‘We Love to Read’. Surely he told you that? Or is your mind too full of your studies that you can’t remember what your boyfriend told you?” I realized too late that I sounded like a bitch, so I quickly added, “Just kidding. I know Ben is absent-minded, so maybe he never told you.” “Yes, Ben never told me you worked with him. What are you, the receptionist?” Bitch. “Actually, no.” “Secretary?” I resisted the urge to throw my glass of water in her face. “I’m the volunteer coordinator.” “Oh, an important position, I see.” Jasmine smiled at me and whispered something in Ben’s ear. He laughed. “Maggie’s also an author,” Blake chimed in. “And they may also make a movie out of my debut novel,” I beamed. “Blake’s setting it up.” “Oh, it must help that your boyfriend has connections.” Jasmine smiled. “What’s the book about?” Drat. “Actually, I ...” It was then that the waitress came to take our order. And not a moment too soon. “So Blake’s your boyfriend now, Maggie?” Ben looked at me with a frown. “You never told me that.” “Well, I was going to tell you, but, you know.” “Know what?” “You were so busy talking about Jasmine. I didn’t want to detract from that and draw the attention to myself.” “I don’t know if ...” “Oh honey, let her be,” Jasmine interrupted him. “She’s obviously just happy to have found herself a man.” “What the ...” I was about to go off on little miss perfect. “Actually, I’m the one who’s lucky to be with her.” Blake leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “She’s my little princess.” “Little princess, huh?” Jasmine smirked. “Not a name I would have thought many people would call you, Maggie.”

“Why’s that?” Blake answered for me with a frown. My heart warmed towards him. “In fact, Matty Damonella and George Mooney have both told me how lucky I am to have Maggie.” Jasmine looked at him with her eyebrows furrowed. All of a sudden, she didn’t look so beautiful. I could see all the lines in her hard face. I didn’t understand what Ben saw in her at all. “Matty Damonella? Really?” She sneered. It was at that moment that Brandon Fleck walked past the table. And then stopped. “Blake, how’s it going?” I caught my breath and stared. I tried not to be too star struck but, I couldn’t help it. “Good, Brandon. How are you?” “Great, thanks to you.” Jasmine gasped. Loudly. I smiled. I guess she wasn’t as cool and immune to Hollywood stars as she thought. “Good, good. Filming going well?” “The best. My trailer is second only to Brad’s, and, well, that 2% you got me on the backend for the deal. Well, let’s just say it could add up to a lot. We’re getting a lot of great press for the movie already.” “Good to hear. Oh, Brandon, I want you to meet my girlfriend, Maggie.” Blake introduced me to Brandon Fleck. The Brandon Fleck. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Maggie.” And with that, he kissed my hand. “Well, good seeing you, Blake. I’m sure I’ll see you at your office soon.” I was still grinning like a fool as he walked away. “Take that, Jasmine,” I thought to myself.

* * * Later that night, I did something bad. Well, not horribly bad, like go straight to jail bad, but bad enough. I did feel guilty, but I resolved to myself that Jasmine deserved it. I wouldn’t have done anything if it hadn’t been for her last leaving comment. The rest of the lunch had gone seemingly well, or so I had thought. I mean, as well as it could have for it being a date where I watched the love of my life gush over Cruella DeVille while I played happy-faces with my old childhood friend, who incidentally was making me feel weird things with his romantic words and caresses. Only it didn’t really work. Ben was so caught up in Jasmine that he barely had time to talk to me. Thank God Gayle asked Blake to accompany me on the

date. Otherwise, I would have felt extremely uncomfortable, even more so than I do already. But it was Jasmine’s parting comments about ‘chubby chasers’ and ‘Hollywood’ that got me going. I may not be a size zero, but I certainly wasn’t going to be put into the same category as a “Big Beautiful Woman.” Not that there’s anything wrong with being BBW, but whenever I think of that acronym, I think of kinky sex and sleazy dating ads. So really, Jasmine is to blame for the little ad I created about her. When I got home, I was still seething at her comment, so I decided to create a rental listing on Tedslist. It reads: “Former Playboy bunny (from one of the 2009 editions) is looking to rent a room in her luxurious mansion in Beverly Hills to a man with strong hands. Age is not a factor. Rent is only $400 a month so long as you are able to provide massages at least 3 times a week. Call or email me for more information.” I laughed myself to sleep that night. There was no way half of all the freaks in LA weren’t going to contact her.

10 Dear Diary, Ben and I aren’t speaking. Surprise, surprise. Jasmine was inundated with calls from men who wanted to ‘live with’ her, so she decided to do a study about the Internet, sexual predators, and something else, related to the brain. He wasn’t happy about that because that meant she had no time for him, really. Gayle was the one who told Ben about me posting the Tedslist ad. She claimed that she assumed he knew. But obviously I’m not going to tell him about my evil deeds. So Gayle and I aren’t talking, either. The good news is that I now have plenty of time to write my novel, which is actually coming along nicely. If a few pages equals nicely, that is. Lucy was snuggled up at my side, snoring loudly, her mouth dribbling saliva like an oozing volcano onto the sheet. My laptop was on my legs, heating up my thighs, and I was daydreaming about Blake and me meeting different Hollywood stars. My hot thighs broke me out of my daydream; I’ll have to remember to get one of those small laptop desks for my bed before I burn my thighs to a crisp or crash my computer. Because that would be just my luck. I’d finally get the book up and started and then lose all my work due to my computer crashing. I could just imagine giving Blake that excuse. It would be reminiscent of some sort of ‘cat ate my homework’ excuse. It’s the sort of excuse that no one believes, but in my life it’s usually real. On second thought, I’ve decided I should add an external hard drive to the shopping list, as well. “They climbed…” No, no. Backspace… “They scrambled…” Argh! I was frustrated. Trying to write the perfect novel in a time crunch is a hard job. I was leaning over Lucy to grab my thesaurus to find the perfect word for the sentence when the phone rang. “Hello?” I grabbed it without looking at the name. “‘Sup, Maggie Moo?” Blake’s voice always sounded as if he was halflaughing at me. I couldn’t imagine that he had the same tone when in important business meetings. “Not much, Blakey-wakey. How may I help you?” “I heard from Gayle about the Tedslist incident and figured you might need a friend.”

“Does Gayle just not know when to keep her mouth shut?” I muttered. “She was just concerned about you.” “Yeah, well she’s not my mother.” “So how’s the book coming along? Can I set up the meeting yet? My contacts are really excited to talk to you,” Blake changed the subject. I guess he didn’t want to get into a long discussion. “Actually I was just working on it.” Finally, a time when I could talk about the book without lying. “Um, I don’t know if it’s quite ready...” “Maggie,” Blake interrupted me. “Yes?” “It’s not done, is it?” “What’s not done?” My heart started thumping. “The book.” “Huh?” I feigned ignorance at his question. “The book you are ‘revising’, it hasn’t been written yet, has it?” he asked softly. “Why would you think that?” I try to act affronted but my words come out as a half-cry. “Maggie. I may not have seen you in a while, but I’ve known you a long time, and I just have a feeling.” “Are you mad at me?” That was all I needed to say to answer his question. I waited for the anger to erupt from his voice. For one more person to tell me that I needed to just do something and stop dilly-dallying. “No.” “Really?” “Maggie, I knew you hadn’t written it after our first conversation, when you wouldn’t tell me exactly what the plot was about. You’re a sharer, not a hoarder, and if the book was done, you would have been talking about it all night.” There was amusement in his voice. I felt a tension release in my body. “I know. I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to lose this opportunity. You know.” “I know. And I’m serious that my friend wants to see a book sooner, rather than later. How far along are you?” “Not very far,” I whispered the words, hoping that somehow they would sound better if not expressed too loudly. I heard him sigh. “Oh, Maggie, what am I going to do with you?” Kiss me again. The words came to my brain involuntarily. What was I thinking? I had no interest in Blake. Did I? “Do you have any time off?” Blake inquired. “A little, but I don’t really have the money for a vacation right now.”

“Maggie! Not a vacation. Maybe you can take some time off and get to writing full-time so that we can have something good to go as quickly as possible.” “Oh, oops, ha-ha.” Darn, it would have been nice to have been offered an allexpenses paid trip to Hawaii or even Fiji. I could relax on the beach and let the words seep out of me while I gazed out on the ocean. “So, can you do that?” Blake broke into my reverie. I had been picturing myself dancing under the moonlight, with flowers tucked into the side of my hair and a handsome man, possibly Bradley Cooper, staring at me in wonder at his luck of being with me. “Um, sure. Yeah, I will put in the time for next week.” “Great. Let’s do dinner tomorrow. I have someone I want you to meet.” “Okay sure.” And with that we hung up the phone. I was curious as to who he wanted me to meet. I hoped it wasn’t some sort of psychic guru who was going to help open my mind so that my creative juices could start flowing. I’d already tried one of those and it hadn’t really worked. Or perhaps he would introduce me to some famous author, who would tell me about their writing process and provide some sort of positive feedback as to how it always gets tough but you have to keep going. Now I was getting excited. I wondered which author it was going to be, and hoped it was someone whose book I had read recently. How embarrassing if it were some New York Times bestselling author and I’d never read their book. I decided that I’d better catch up on the bestseller’s list and Wikipedia all of the authors and their books. Better to be prepared and able to impress. Maybe if I impressed them enough, I could get some free autographed copies of their book for We Love to Read so we could auction them off at our fundraiser and I could be recognized as employee of the year for the thousands of dollars I brought in. Ben would be very impressed with me then.

11 Dear Diary, Blake has a girlfriend. A real girlfriend. It was quite a shock for me to meet her, and I’m not really sure how I feel. She’s gorgeous, of course, but really nice, so I can’t hate her. Though, I don’t really have a reason to hate her. She says she’ll be my gym buddy, as she hates going by herself. I didn’t ask why she doesn’t go with Blake, but I guess that was a bit too much to expect and ask. Actually, I didn’t ask them about their relationship at all. I just didn’t want to know. I don’t know what to think or feel right now. I can’t explain the surge of jealousy I got when I saw them together. I thought my heart belonged to Ben, but there is something in Blake’s eyes that makes me feel so warm inside. “Maggie, you look great.” Bridget smiled at me in her cute workout outfit. She was waiting outside the gym for me and didn’t seem annoyed that I was ten minutes late. “Thanks, you look great too.” I smiled, wanting to hate something about her but failing. We walked into the gym, and I could feel several guys’ heads swirl around to look at us. Okay, maybe not at me, but at her. “That guy is totally checking you out, three o’clock,” Bridget whispered to me. I looked over to my right and made eye contact with a handsome older man. He was staring and smiling at me. I gave him a smile back, and this time I was not embarrassed or anxious. He really had been checking me out. Hmm, I thought to myself, maybe I’m not as invisible to men as I thought. “So how is the novel coming along?” “Did Blake tell you to ask me that?” I’d only been on vacation for 2 days. Was this going to be a constant inquiry? “No,” Bridget laughed. “Actually, he told me not to ask you. He said he didn’t want you to feel like you were being pressured, but I was just curious.” I looked over at Bridget. She seemed so genuine and nice. And when I had met her a few weeks before, I had felt like she was someone I could be great friends with. I didn’t want to like her. I wanted her to be a bitch. Inexplicably, I wanted her to have some major faults. I didn’t quite know why I felt this way,

maybe just protective of Blake. He was one of my oldest friends, and we’d just come back into contact, and I didn’t want to lose his friendship again so quickly. To say I was in shock when I met her would be an understatement. I had tried to think of some famous authors named Bridget when he first introduced us, but then she told me she was a lawyer as well, so I knew she wasn’t an author. Every time they laughed or told stories, they seemed to look at each other with such respect and admiration, and something inside me would curl. I really wanted to know how long they’d been dating, how they met, and if it was serious, but I didn’t want to be nosey. I mean, he hadn’t even introduced her as his girlfriend, so it was obvious to me that they weren’t the sort to shove the relationship in other people’s faces. It did hurt my feelings that he’d never told me about the fact that he had a girlfriend, especially since I had asked him about his love life. “So, is it going well?” Bridget started talking to me again as we settled onto the two recumbent bikes and started pedaling. “It’s going okay,” I was hesitant to say more than that. I couldn’t tell her that I had spent more time thinking about her and Blake than my book. “You know, if you want, we can go to this house in the hills tonight. It’s my friend’s, and whenever I feel like I’m lost and need inspiration, I go and relax and my mind frees up.” I looked over at Bridget. It was going to be impossible to hate her if she was going to be so nice. “Wow, that would be kinda awesome actually.” “Great. We’ll have a girls’ night. It’ll be fun,” Bridget smiled at me widely. “You and Blake aren’t doing anything tonight?” I was surprised. I thought that Saturday nights were reserved for boyfriends and girlfriends. “No, we don’t really hang out that much. He works a lot, as I’m sure you know.” She laughed. What a considerate girlfriend. I knew that work or not, I would want to see my boyfriend on a Saturday night. “But you are a lawyer too.” “Blake has a much bigger workload than me, but a higher salary as well, so I guess it evens out.” “Yeah,” I didn’t want to probe deeper. But I felt a little happier all of a sudden. They couldn’t be that serious if they didn’t have set dates for Saturday night. “So, what time tonight?” I was now ready and raring to go with my book. “Let’s say 6? We can grab dinner first, then pick up some wine and go on up.

Sam’s out of town for a few months, so we can go over whenever we want.” “Sounds great.” We got down from the bikes with my muscles only slightly aching. “And tomorrow we can come back to the gym and do cardio and upper body!” “Uh, sure.” As we grabbed our bags, I checked my phone and saw that I had a text from Blake. Hope it went well at the gym today. I figured you would prefer having Bridget as a gym buddy over me. :) I smiled at his text and looked over at Bridget. “Ha-ha, just got a text from Blake.” “Sweet. How is he?” “Oh, he didn’t text you too?” “No, Blake doesn’t text me much.” She laughed. “Oh.” Wow, Bridget was a really laid-back girlfriend. Maybe that was what Blake liked about her. Maybe she was just really confident in herself in that she didn’t need to hear or see her boyfriend much. “I’ll meet you at the restaurant at 6 p.m.?” Bridget shouted over to me as we walked to our respective cars. “Sure, see you then.” I hopped into my car, feeling more energized than I had in the past few weeks.

12 Dear Diary, I think I am now in love with two men, Ben and Blake. Of course both of them are off limits to me, so naturally I did the most feasible thing I could do next. I signed up for an online dating service, because you know, when you are in love with 2 men who don’t love you, trying to write a book, training for a marathon, and trying to lose weight, you need to add another distraction to your life. To be fair to myself, it was Bridget’s idea. She says several of her friends who recently got married met their partners online. And while she didn’t tell me this to goad me into joining exactly, her talk did plant a seed in my mind. Also, I had this idea that perhaps Bradley Cooper was looking online as well. I’d just read an article about how celebrities look for love online anonymously to ensure the person wants them for them and not just their fame and money. And supposedly some actress from some TV show I’ve never watched ended up marrying some non-celebrity guy. So after all that, I decided that was the way I was going to end up with Mr. Right. Writing with Bridget was great. I got a lot done, and my first impression of her was indeed correct. She was a wonderful human being. I’d told Gayle about her before she picked me up and she had advised me to get as much dirt on Bridget and Blake as possible and try to break them up. But I didn’t think that would be a good idea. It was bad karma, and honestly, I didn’t think I would be successful if I tried anyways. I didn’t think I could compete with Bridget, and I didn’t really think Blake was interested in me. It also seemed somewhat unfair to Ben. I’d wanted him for so long. How flakey would I be if I dropped him as the object of my affections for Blake? Gayle didn’t have any answers to my mumblings. She couldn’t explain it either. She didn’t know why I was so interested in Ben and thought I should just drop him from my thoughts. He was one of those guys who was obviously a dirt bag, yet he had the looks and the charisma to make a girl forget her own name. Sometimes, I wondered if Gayle had fallen under his spell as well. But there was no way No-Nonsense-Gayle would ever put up with All-He-Thinks-About-isHimself-Ben. But she had been asking me about Ben and Jasmine a lot recently and seemed to be overly upset at the fact that they seemed to be getting on really

well, even more so than I was. “What does he see in her?” she said one day, showing a lot more exasperation than I had expected to hear from her in regards to him. “I don’t know. Perhaps her body? Maybe the sex is good?” “That bony thing? I’m sure it can’t feel good.” I didn’t want to laugh out loud or point out the obvious to Gayle. She was just as skinny as Jasmine, and if it didn’t feel good with Jasmine, it wouldn’t with her either. “Yeah, I don’t know. It seems as if he is really smitten. He told me he was thinking about moving in with her.” “WHAT?” Gayle shouted. “I know, right? I was in shock, but what could I say? I don’t want to seem as if...” Gayle cut me off. “You need to speak to him seriously. He cannot move in with her! That would be a big mistake.” “I don’t think that I am in a position to really...” “He cannot move in with her. You are one of his best friends, Maggie. You need to talk to him.” “Uh, yeah, I guess.” I had no intention of telling Ben not to move in with Jasmine. I didn’t want him to think I was really into him. It would be too embarrassing. “Hey, so did I tell you I joined cupidlove.com?” My segue into a new subject worked. “What? OMG, you are online dating now?” Gayle screeched. She’d been hanging out with me for too long. She wasn’t usually prone to these loud, excited outbursts. “I signed up last night. I have a feeling this is the best way for me to meet Bradley Cooper.” “Maggie, are you joking right now?” Gayle sighed. “No, didn’t I tell you about this magazine article I read? It says a lot of Hollywood stars are looking for love anonymously online because it is the best way to find out if a woman is into them for who they are and not their fame.” “Maggie.” “Don’t worry, Gayle. I’m not holding out for Bradley. But I think it’s the best way to get over Ben and Blake.” “Blake?” she screeched in my ear again. Oops, I hadn’t really told her that I was starting to feel weird things for Blake. “What’s going on with you and Blake?” “Nothing.”

“But you like him?” “I don’t know. Well, maybe. But, I don’t know. Anyways, he has a girlfriend.” “What about Ben? Are you over him now?” She sounded excited. “Huh? I don’t know. No. Yes. Maybe.” Sigh. “Maggie?” “I don’t know. I just don’t know how to feel anymore. I still think Ben is cute, and I think Blake is hot and super nice, and I still lust over Bradley, but I just don’t think I’m being realistic in expecting any of them. And I am fed up with being single and lonely.” “It’s okay, Mags. It’s good,” Gayle’s voice was soft. “This is really good.” “Good?” “Yeah, you deserve someone real. Someone to love you. Not just a dream lover.” “Huh?” I was indignant. “You know what I mean, Mags. It’s time to take control of your life. It’s your time now.” “I know. It’s time.” And it was time for me to start living and stop dreaming. “Mags, can I ask you a question?” “Sure.” I was worried Gayle was going to ask me about my gym workouts and about my running. I didn’t want to have to admit those still were not going very well. I especially didn’t want her try and coerce me into working out more than I currently was. One step at a time, please. “What really made you decide to start online dating? I’ve tried to encourage you so many times.” I thought about her question carefully. It wasn’t an easy thing to admit. I knew I was a dreamer, a hopeless romantic, the idealist who believed in love at first sight and fate. And in my heart of hearts, I still believed that it was possible for Bradley and me to be together. But in the last few weeks, part of me had changed. “I think I’m changing, Gayle. I’m becoming a doer, you know...” I paused, not sure how much I was willing to admit, even to myself. Especially to myself. “I’ve always had dreams. To write a bestseller, to be skinny, to marry a gorgeous man. And I’ve never really done anything grand and nothing has inspired me to. I’ve been happy with my dreams, but now, I, I just feel like the dream is not enough.” “No, it’s not.” “I’m scared though, Gayle. What if I...” “You won’t fail, Mags. You could never fail.” Gayle’s voice was so strong,

so confident, that it warmed me through and through. That was why Gayle was my best friend. Even though she sometimes made me feel inferior or bossed me around, I knew she was my strongest proponent and supporter. “Thanks.” “It’s true, you know. I admire you.” “I admire you too, Gayle. I never would have...” Gayle interrupted me. “Let’s not get all sappy. Tell me more about Cupidlove!” I laughed. Gayle was not a feelings person, and I knew she must have been feeling super awkward at the way the conversation was going. It suddenly struck me that I needed to do something for Gayle. She was single as well, and as far as I knew, was not dating or interested in anyone. I’d spent so much time thinking about myself and my own problems that I’d failed to actually find out what was going on in Gayle’s love life for a while. That had to change.

* * * Blake: Hey, what are you doing? Maggie: Not much, you? Blake: Getting ready for bed. Maggie: Sounds fancy. Blake: Does it really? Maggie: No. Lol. Blake: I wish you were here with me. Maggie: Oh? Blake: I’d love to hold you close and kiss you and snuggle. Maggie: What? Blake: I’ve been thinking about you all day. I miss you. Maggie: You do? Blake: I miss your smile, I miss your voice, I miss just being with you. Maggie: Uh. Blake: Can I see you again soon? Maggie: Sure, I guess so. Blake: Maggie, I really need to teach you how to flirt better via text. Maggie: Huh? Blake: This was lesson two, dear Maggie. Read the words that I said, these are the sort of things you should be sending to the guys you date and if they send these sort of messages to you, you need to respond a lot better.

Maggie: Yes, Blake. I slapped my phone down on my nightstand, my face all aflush. I should have known his text messages were only part and parcel of him being my boyfriend coach.

13 Dear Diary, I’ve been on 5 dates in the last 2 weeks. Yes, you read that correctly. 5 dates! That’s more than I’ve been on in the last 2 years. Unfortunately, I would very happily go back to the 0 dates in the last 2 years if I could. It’s been a bit of a nightmare, and now I’ve got myself a bit of a stalker. It’s funny, when you are single, you always hope men will want you and woo you. But when it happens and it’s the guys you don’t like or want, that sentiment goes away very, very quickly. In even more surprising news, I’m not the only one who has a crush on Ben. My Cupidlove account made me cringe. The photos, the poetic prose, the half-lies about my body size, interests, and wants all made me squirm inside. I didn’t feel like I was being dishonest in my profile, but I also didn’t feel like I was being completely honest. I mean, under interests I had written: I love watching football on Sundays and am never happier than when at a baseball or ice hockey game - Go Lakers!!! (I hated football, had no interest in baseball or ice hockey, and you couldn’t pay me enough money to watch sports on TV.) I also enjoy going to dance clubs, and beer is like water to me!! (I was told that guys love a girl who can dance, and that liking beer over ‘girly drinks’ is like manna from Heaven. They didn’t have to know that I knew the cocktail specials at 5 different bars in LA.) I love working out and just recently joined a new (well, it is new to me) gym, and am training right now for a marathon. This will be my 2nd marathon, and I am super excited about surpassing my first run time!!! (Hey, in for a penny, in for a pound.) I would love to climb Mt. Everest one day and love hiking in the Hollywood Hills with my energetic and lovable protector, Lucy, and yes she is my dog. I’m looking for someone who likes to be active (watch TV and eat chocolate) and has a keen interest in discussing literature, art, and world politics!! (Well, one of those is true.) Now, I knew what I wrote wasn’t exactly accurate, but I was told that I should write my profile in order to get the type of guy I wanted to attract, not the type that would be attracted to me. I mean let’s be honest, what sort of guys were going to respond to:

I like to watch romantic comedies and pretend I am the leading lady kissing the very hot and doable lead man. I have a dog that enjoys sleeping and drooling, and she suits me just fine. My best friend made me join the gym because I’m trying to lose weight so that I can walk/jog in the marathon she signed us up for and which I am dreading. I love to read books and am trying to be a writer (I guess it’s better than actress), and I can’t name the secretary of defense in this cabinet because I stopped caring about politics once I left college. Oh yeah, I’m also kinda of broke and so would prefer dinner dates to coffee because then I know I can get a good and free meal out of it as well. Let’s just say they weren’t good guys. That wasn’t my exact first profile, but it was close to that. It got offers from older men wanting to ‘take care of me’ and from slobs who asked if I was into RPG and online games. One guy even asked me if I would dress up as his favorite Star Trek character on the first date and if I had any fetishes he could fulfill. Let’s just say that the new profile helped me attract a higher caliber of men; at least they appeared to be of more quality, based on their online profiles. I called Blake before I agreed to go on my sixth date. I had wanted to talk to Ben about it, but he hadn’t been around the office for a week and hadn’t returned any of my phone calls. Yes, part of the reason I wanted to tell Ben was because I wanted him to get scared that I would meet someone else and then beg me to not join and be his. And yes, obviously that didn’t happen. For some reason, I was more nervous about telling Blake about my dates, even though he was my boyfriend coach. Maybe it was because the feelings I was starting to develop for him weren’t like the feelings I had for Ben. They touched me in a different way. He made me feel things that Ben didn’t make me feel. There was something more serious about our friendship and I didn’t want to explore it. It made me feel too nervous and too scared. Bridget was also really busy with work (she hadn’t even had time to go the gym with me, said she was going through boxes and boxes of discovery for some new case. I wasn’t sure what she was discovering, but it meant she was too busy to work out). It was only then that I decided to call Blake. Gayle had also disappeared on me, said she had just started seeing someone and would call me back, and nothing. Blake laughed when I told him I was joining an online dating site; asked me if I didn’t have enough admirers already. I wasn’t sure if he was joking, but he did agree to help prep me for my date. I was a bit hesitant about getting help from a guy. I mean, it was just so embarrassing because it was Blake and he was a gorgeous hunk who I thought was hot and who I wanted to go out with as well.

But he was also my childhood friend and in a relationship, so I figured it was pointless to feel embarrassed by asking for advice, especially because I really needed it. “Moo-moo, welcome!” Blake was laughing when he opened the door. I had gone over to his house before my sixth date, to get ready. I’d brought 3 outfits and makeup with me. I figured Blake could tell me which one looked best while he gave me some pointers for conversation. After five miserable dates, I admitted I knew little to nothing about how to flirt or how to read men’s signals. Even after his two lessons. “Ass.” I’d hit him on the arm as I walked into his house the first time. And then I’d almost gasped out loud, his house was so amazing. Blake lived in Los Feliz, a cool, trendy part of Los Angeles, and his house was gorgeous. “Wow, this is really nice.” I dropped my bag in the hallway and walked into the living room on the right. There was a large comfy white couch by a beautiful bay window, and across from that was a fireplace. There was a mantle on top of the fireplace with photos. I walked over to look at them. “Feel free to show yourself the house, Maggie,” Blake called after me. “I will, thanks, Blakey,” I called back in response. My heart skipped a beat when I looked at the photos. In front and foremost was a photo of me, Blake, and my brother taken at a pool party when I was about 10. I was grinning into the camera with my wet bedraggled hair and a float in my hand. The boys both had their tongues out. I remembered the photo and the day instantly. That was the day I had asked Blake to tell me what a French kiss was. I had heard two friends talking about it the day before at school and had no idea what it meant. Blake had told me it was when 2 people kissed in France. He’d said it was more special because Paris is the city of romance and fireworks go off in your body when you kiss there. Being 10, I had taken him at his word and had daydreamed of going to Paris ever since. It wasn’t until 14 that I found out that French kisses meant using tongues, but the idea of fireworks going off in my stomach in Paris never left my mind, and I vowed that one day I would go to the city of love to see if it would happen. “I remember this! This is the day you told me about French kisses.” I turned my head to the side to look at Blake. “You know, I believed that story for years.” “You remember that?” Blake looked at me in amazement. “Of course, who doesn’t remember their first conversation about love and romance?” “Love and romance? Didn’t you just ask me about French kisses?” “Yes, but your answer was so romantic. I talked endlessly with my friends about going to Paris and feeling those fireworks in my belly.”

“So has it ever happened?” Blake looked into my eyes seriously, searching. I wasn’t sure why he was so serious all of a sudden. “What? A French kiss?” I was a bit taken aback. “Of course I’ve French kissed. I may not have much experience, but I’m not a complete loser you know.” I looked at him with venom. “Oh, Maggie, I’m not talking about a French kiss, you dope. Of course someone as beautiful as you has been kissed. I mean have you ever felt the fireworks?” He was grinning again now. My heart had skipped a beat. He had called me beautiful. I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to ask him to repeat it. I wanted to ask him if he meant it or if he was just being nice. Maybe he was just saying that because he saw me as his sister, a member of his family, and family members have to tell you that you are beautiful. “So, have you?” Blake interrupted my thoughts. “Oh, no, no I haven’t. Not yet.” “I’m surprised. A true romantic like you...” I interrupted him, “Well, I haven’t been to Paris as of yet.” “True, you do have to be in Paris to feel the fireworks!” He winked at me and then walked to the kitchen. “Want a drink?” “A glass of red wine if you have it,” I shouted after him, figuring I might as well get a little lightheaded to prepare myself for the date. Nothing like liquid courage and an alcohol-infused personality to get a date going! I was changing into one of the dresses I’d brought when Blake barged into the room humming some rock ‘n roll song. “Hey, I’m changing here.” “How was I to know you were some sort of harlot? Who changes in the living room? Except maybe bachelor party strippers.” I glared at him as I turned around. “Follow me.” “Where to?” “The bedroom,” Blake grinned. “Excuse me?” My heart skipped a beat. Could I sleep with him behind Bridget’s back? “Don’t you want to change in privacy?” “Oh, yeah, yeah.” Thank God I hadn’t ripped off my dress and said “Just take me here and now!” That would have been embarrassing. Plus, did I really want to be with Blake? Yeah, he was cute, but he still called me “Moo-moo,” and that was something I had left behind in my braces-wearing days. We walked into one of the biggest bedrooms I’d ever seen in my life, and it

was only when I looked at the closet that I realized it was his room and not a spare bedroom. “I’ll leave this here,” Blake placed the wine glass down on a side table next to the bed and started to walk out. “Just call me when you want me to come judge.” “Well, I guess you don’t have to leave. It won’t take me but a few minutes to change into each outfit. Just close your eyes when I change.” “Sure thing,” he drawled while laconically winking at me. “I mean it,” I laughingly said. I hit him on the arm to emphasize my point. His arm was hard and strong and it reminded me of what great shape he was in. I had to get a grip on myself. I had nothing to worry about. There was no way that Blake was interested in peeking at me when he could have any girl in the world with a click of his fingers. I grabbed the wine glass and took a chug of the pinot noir he had poured for me. “Wow, this is some good wine. I’m guessing it’s not Two Buck Chuck from Trader Joes?” I laughed. “That is right, not quite Two Buck Chuck,” Blake smiled at me. “Mind if I turn the TV on while you get ready?” “Sure.” He got up and sat on his bed and turned the TV on. Football appeared on the screen. I inwardly groaned, was ESPN the only channel that the male species knew existed? I already had the first dress on so decided to do my hair and makeup before I put on my heels and paraded in each outfit. I wanted to look classy for my date. I was meeting a man named Will. His profile said he was a doctor, and he looked like he was pretty handsome in his photographs. He had a goatee and mustache, which was what initially attracted me to his profile. And well, who didn’t want to date a doctor? Blake whistled when he saw me all done up. “I don’t even need to see the other dresses, Maggie. This outfit is perfect.” I was about to argue with him and tell him I wanted to try on all 3 dresses when I noticed the time. If I didn’t leave soon, I was going to be late for the date. He gazed at me with a surprised and almost impressed look in his eyes and I just grinned back at him foolishly, feeling sexy and beautiful. “Come here,” he said and he pulled me into his arms. His lips crushed down on mine and I wrapped my hands around his neck. He kissed me hard, and I felt his tongue sliding into my mouth smoothly as I pressed my body against his. Our tongues entwined and seemed to dance together as his fingers ran through my hair and my hands pressed into his shoulders. I gasped as I felt his right hand

running down my back and stop on my ass as he pressed me into him even harder. The kiss lasted for a few more seconds and then he leaned back, his expression looking as dazed as I felt. “And that’s lesson number 3, that’s how you do the perfect French kiss.” He said and hurried to the door. “Finish getting ready and I’ll see in you the living room.” He strolled out and I just stood there, my stomach churning as fireworks seemed to go off all around me. I touched my lips lightly. This was starting to get out of control. I didn’t even want to go on the date now. I just wanted to stay home with Blake. I wanted to stay here and kiss him all night long. Finally, I exited the bedroom and got ready to leave. Blake was walking me to the door and I was in my black dress (he thought it was the right combination of sexy and sophisticated) when I got a text from Gayle: Hey, we need to talk. It’s about Ben. I like him too. Call me when you can. My mouth dropped open, and I could tell Blake was shocked when I showed him the text. “Go on your date, Maggie. Call Gayle later. Call me later. I’m here for you.” And with that, Blake gave me a hug and pushed me out the door. I knew driving to meet Will that the 6th date wasn’t going to be a winner either, but I didn’t even care that much because all I could think about was Ben and Blake and I didn’t even know which one I liked the best now.

14 Dear Diary, I slept in bed with a man last night, for the first time in years. That’s all that needs to be said. Okay, I really do mean slept and not made love. Just in case you were wondering. And it wasn’t uber romantic, but there were moments where my heart skipped a beat and I had to regulate my breathing. And yes, I felt a spark. A real spark, and it made me a bit scared. Oh yeah, I was married last night...kinda. It’s never a good idea to go on a first date in a bad emotional state, because bad things can ensue. Especially if your name is Maggie Lane. I called Gayle as soon as I got into my car at Blake’s. I wanted to be calm, cool, and collected and ignore her like she had been doing to me for the last few weeks, but my curiosity couldn’t handle that. What was she talking about? She liked Ben now? What did that even mean? She had never had a good word to say about him when I used to gush on about him. But something in my mind starting ticking as the phone was ringing. I hadn’t thought about it too hard before, but it had struck my subconscious that she always seemed to start off every conversation asking me about Ben. And hadn’t she been even more upset than me when he started dating Jasmine? “Maggie, hey, thanks for calling me back.” Gayle’s voice was soft. It was never soft. “You are ruining my date, you know.” “Omg, you are on a date right now? Sorry, call me back afterwards.” “Well, I’m not actually on the date yet. I’m on my way,” I grumpily huffed out. There was no way I wanted to wait until after the date to find out what was going on. “Oh, with whom?” “A doctor if you must know.” “Wow, nice.” I felt a little bad then. The conversation was awkward, and it had never been awkward between us. Not in the whole time we had been friends and she had been bossing me around. Not even when I had done the most disastrous things and embarrassed us both. We’d been mad at each other before, but we’d never been awkward. Whatever she wanted to tell me about Ben must be pretty bad.

“So what’s the deal, Gayle? You like Ben? What does that mean?” I shot out, unable to deal with the silence. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this over the phone, Maggie.” “Do what? Just tell me.” I was close to shouting. “Ben and I are dating.” “WHAT?” “We’ve been seeing each other for...” “WHAT?” I cut her off, “What about Jasmine? How could you do this to her?” It was almost laughable that those were the words to come out of my mouth. I couldn’t care less about Jasmine and had actually hoped that something like this would happen to her, but I’d seen myself as the interloper, not Gayle. “What is going on here, Gayle? I’m really confused. I didn’t even know you liked him.” “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t think I liked him. Well, I knew you liked him and didn’t want to like him.” “You never said anything good about him. You called him a womanizer. You...” I stopped. “I just don’t even understand.” “I’m sorry, Maggie. We, I, never meant to hurt you. It just happened.” she whispered. I’d never heard Gayle’s voice so soft before. “What just happened?” I was exasperated and frankly underwhelmed in my reaction. I didn’t feel any sort of soul-crashing pain racing through my body. No pain, no anger. Just sadness. I realized I was more upset that I hadn’t known that Gayle was even interested in Ben, as opposed to her actually being with Ben. I suppose he was like my Bradley Cooper crush, in a way, a nice dream but never a real possibility in my mind. Plus, he was gross. Who knew if he had an STD even? “It’s hard to explain.” “What bloody happened, Gayle? You disappear for 3 weeks, I hear nothing from you. I’ve been on 5 disastrous dates from an online dating service, about to go on my 6th. I’ve been sucking it up in the gym and have a marathon to run in a few months and I can’t even run 2 miles. I have a great chance of being published but can’t concentrate enough to actually write the book. And you want to bumble on and not actually say anything. Just bloody tell me or get off the phone!” I shouted. There was silence on the line for about ten seconds and then Gayle started laughing. I wondered if she had gone mad. Who would laugh at a time like this? “I’m sorry, Maggie,” she spewed out between laughter that sounded slightly hysterical. “I’ve just never heard you go off like that, and I...” I started laughing as well. I guess the stress of the last few months was

finally hitting home. “So, you guys are dating?” “Yes. I wanted to tell you. I just didn’t know how.” I understood slightly what she had been going through. Hadn’t I just been telling myself how I needed to find out what was going on in her life? “Maggie, if I had thought for one moment that you really loved Ben, you know I wouldn’t have ever done anything, right?” “What do you mean?” “Maggie, we both know you get these crushes, these infatuations and...” “I know. It’s okay. I’m not mad. Maybe we can talk about it at lunch tomorrow.” “Sure, that would be great.” “Your treat.” “Of course.” “Okay then.” “I’ll pick you up around 1?” “Yeah, that’s fine.” “Thanks, Maggie. I’m sorry.” “I know.” I stared at myself in my rearview mirror as I spoke. I had arrived at the restaurant where I was to meet Will and was just sitting in my car. My face was glittering back at me, shiny and sparkly (thanks to glittery bronzer) and I liked what was looking back. I could see my cheekbones now, well, if I held my face at a certain angle and sucked in my cheeks a bit. But I looked happier and better than I had in years. I had lost some weight and it was starting to show. “Look, Gayle, I’m not mad. Well, not extremely mad. I’m not going to go scratch up your car tonight and spray paint ‘bitch’ or ‘whore’ on it. But I’m upset.” “As you have...” “It’s okay about you and Ben. I’m happy for you even. Well, happy you have someone you like. But it’s Ben, and you never told me, and well, I’m just confused right now and sad that you hid this from me. But it’s fine. I’m going to go on my date with Will, who is a doctor, by the way. And I’m going to have a good time and eat a steak, a nice juicy rib eye, and I’m going to get a dessert, because even though I’m trying to lose weight, I still appreciate free food. And you know what? I’m going to love it.” “Have fun on the date, Maggie. Try and say no to the dessert.” Maybe I had been too easy on Gayle because it seemed like she was already feeling confident enough to give her unneeded and unwanted advice. “Well, I’m here and have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I hung up the phone

before I said anything else to her. I didn’t want her to convince me to get a healthy side salad with the steak instead of French fries sprinkled with truffles (I’d perused the menu for a good 15 minutes earlier in the day). “This is going to be fun.” I kept repeating those words to myself as I got out of the car and walked to the restaurant. I wasn’t going to let Gayle’s revelation ruin my date.

* * * I should have walked out as soon as I saw Dr. Will. I should have known that the night wasn’t going to go well as soon as I walked out of Blake’s house. I mean, I knew it wouldn’t be great, but I don’t always trust my instincts as I should. “Maggie, Maggie, over here.” I glanced over to see who was shouting my name obnoxiously. I saw a short, stout man waving at me excitedly. His hair was receding, and his goatee looked like an unkempt beard with food growing in it. Surely this was not handsome Will? It was in that minute that I should have turned around and fled the restaurant, but I continued walking up to him. Perhaps some other Maggie was here meeting someone and the real Will and I would laugh once I sorted out that this maniac wasn’t him. It took 30 seconds for me to realize that this was the real Will. “Maggie, so great to meet you.” Will jumped up to hug me and gave me a once-over and whistled. “Mmm, mmm, GOOD.” I could feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment. Who was this fool? “Sorry, I should have introduced myself. I’m Doc Will.” I smiled weakly, “Nice to meet you, doctor.” “Likewise, wow, we lucked out, huh?” I looked at him quizzically. “Excuse me?” “I just meant we both got lucky. I’ve been on some dates from Cupidlove, and some real dogs have shown up looking nothing like their photos, but you are amazing.” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He had met some real dogs? I didn’t want to be mean or rude, but I certainly didn’t consider him any sort of prize. It did make me feel good for about 5 seconds that he was obviously so happy with my looks, but who was I fooling? Of course he would be impressed with me. I was looking pretty good. It almost made me want to cry. Was this the only type of guy that would ever appreciate me? “Have a seat, have a seat.” He patted the seat next to him. Was he crazy? I

chose the chair sitting across from him and tried to ignore the pitying glances of the couples on both sides of me. “I’m so glad you came out tonight, Maggie. When I saw you walking in the restaurant, I thought to myself ‘Yes, that is one fine filly.’” “Filly?” “Yeah, like a horse, you know?” he drawled, and my skin felt hot. I don’t know what it was, but I felt a sudden urge to hit him or run as fast as I could out of the restaurant. Or just burst into tears. “I see.” “So, Maggie, I have a present for you.” He reached under the table and picked up a medium-sized gift bag that had “Happy Birthday” in glittery gold on the front, and there was a bunch of bright pink tissue paper sticking up out of it. While I wasn’t impressed with the trimmings of the present, it was nice that he thought to bring me something. Aside from the plastic rose that date number 3 had brought me, none of my dates had thought to do that. “I wasn’t going to give it to you if you were fugly, because I didn’t want to give you the wrong impression. But I like you, so it’s all good.” I cheered up a little bit at that statement. Maybe he had gotten me a Tiffany bracelet. I could understand him not wanting to give someone he wasn’t attracted to expensive jewelry, but maybe the workouts were paying out in more ways than one now. I mean, I didn’t really respect gold-diggers, but surely I deserved something for coming on this date. And I mean, he was a doctor, he could afford it. I smiled my first sincere smile of the night. “Why thanks, Will. That was really sweet of you.” He grinned at me and stroked my hand as I took the bag from him. UGH. “Wine?” “Yes, please.” And don’t stop pouring, I thought to myself. I would need it to get through the night. I took a big gulp of wine as I went to open the present. To hell with etiquette at this point. I gasped as I looked at the box that was in the bag, then glanced up at Will and saw him leering at me. “Impressed?” he raised an eyebrow at me. “Impressed?” I looked at him blankly. In the bag sat a box of condoms. What was there to be impressed with? The fact that he practiced safe sex? That he wanted to practice safe sex with me? “Yeah, with the size,” he leaned over the table to whisper. I took another large gulp of wine before looking back in the bag. It was then I noticed the word “Magnum” in bold print on the box. Oh my goodness. This

date couldn’t end fast enough. “So, Will, what type of medicine do you practice?” I changed the subject abruptly, not caring what he thought. “Medicine?” “Aren’t you a doctor? Doc Will?” Will started laughing and slamming his fists on the table, “Doctor? Me? Haha-ha-ha-ha.” “Why do you call yourself ‘Doc Will’ and say in your profile that you are a doctor?” I seethed at him, not caring if he saw how irritated I was. “I’m Doc Will because I liked the name, and I meant that I am a doctor of love because I am so smooth with the ladies.” And then he winked. “So what do you do, Will?” I was scared to find out. “I’m a salesman down in Santa Monica at Al’s Used Car Lot.” He paused. “You don’t need to buy a new car, do you?” “No, no I don’t.” I didn’t add that if I had needed to, he would be the last person I would buy a car from. “Excuse me a second.” I stood up. “I just need to go to the ladies room.” “Oh, honey your makeup is perfect. No need to touch it up just yet.” “Excuse me?” “I know you ladies, always wanting to make sure you look good for your man. But honey, you look fine right now, though I suppose a bit more lipstick wouldn’t hurt.” He leaned back and licked his lips. If I was capable of throwing up on command, I would have done it at that point. “I’ll be right back.” I walked quickly and purposefully to the bathroom, reaching into my handbag and taking my phone out. As soon as I walked into the bathroom, I called Blake. He answered within two rings. “What’s up, Maggie Moo-moo?” “Omg, Blake, I need your help!” I wailed. I filled him in on what was going on and all his laughing had me smiling myself at the ridiculousness of the date. “Why don’t you just leave, Mags?” “I would feel bad.” “What do you want me to do, Mags, come rescue you?” I could hear the smile in Blake’s voice. “Yes, think of something, please!” “I guess I could show up and say there was an emergency?” “But wouldn’t he wonder why you didn’t just call the restaurant?” “I guess. Maybe I could say the phone was down?”

“Yeah, that could work.” “Or that aliens dropped me off and told me to bring you with me to the spaceship.” “Blake...” “Or that I’m James Bond and I need my girl Friday back with me for a secret mission in the USSR,” he was laughing. “Blake, please.” I pleaded with him. “I don’t know how you always rope me into these situations and why you don’t just leave, but go back to the table, sit still, and I’ll be there soon.” “Yay, thanks, Blake.” I got off the phone with a smile on my face. I walked back to the table with that smile on my face, figuring I might as well enjoy the food and wine while I waited for Blake to show up. I was able to tune Will out while he talked about himself and his recent adventures in Vegas and a local strip club. I must have been on my third glass of wine and just finishing up the glass when Blake showed up. “Maggie?” I looked up in mock surprise and shock for the second time that night as I heard my name shouted out across the restaurant. “Maggie?” Blake came running up to me at the table, almost unrecognizable in his getup of ripped jeans and a white wife-beater tee and an LA Dodgers baseball cap. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me! Who is this scum?” he pointed over to Will, who lurched back. “Um, sorry, who are you?” Will’s loud boisterous voice had quieted down considerably at Blake’s approach. “No, the question is, who are you? And what are you doing here with my wife?” “Wife?” Will and I both gasped in shock and Blake winked at me as he leaned across the table and sneered at Will. “Yes, my wife, punk. What are you doing with her?” “But I didn’t know she was married, she...” “Stop talking.” And Will stopped. I wish I could have done that to him a couple of hours ago, “Come on, Maggie, let’s go.” “Uh, sure.” I grabbed my handbag and jumped up while downing the rest of the wine in my mouth and trying not to laugh. Will just sat back in shock with his mouth agape. I could tell that nothing like this had ever happened to him, but before I could feel sorry for him, I thought

about his completely false photos and profile. “Uh, bye, Will. Nice meeting you,” I waved at him as Blake dragged me out of the restaurant by my other arm. I heard Will muttering something about “dogs being better than crazies” under his breath and burst out laughing as soon as we walked out the door. “Oh, Blake, how could you?” I could barely speak, the laughter consumed me so much. “Only you could make me do these crazy things, Maggie.” We started running towards the parking lot. “I can’t believe I’m a grown man in my 30s, and an attorney to boot. You have reverted me back to childhood, Maggie.” I reached over and hugged him when we reached his car. “Thanks, Blake.” “You should have just left, you know. That would have been the grown-up thing to do.” “But then I never would have seen you in a wife-beater, husband.” “Yeah, and I would never have seen that guy’s face.” We both started laughing again, he with tears rolling down his face. “Oh my gosh, did you see his face? It was priceless.” “Let’s go back to my place and have a drink and you can tell me more about the date,” Blake suggested, and I was more than happy to say yes. We ended up talking and watching a movie in his room. I’m not sure why we went there instead of the living room, but I must have fallen asleep at some point during the movie because I woke up the next morning with one of his arms across my stomach. I just lay there and listened to his light snoring. As I gazed at his face, so soft and natural in its dream state, I felt something stirring in me. And it made me panic.

15 Dear Diary, Sometimes things just make sense. You know when you want something so bad and then you don’t get it and you are so upset, but then later you realize it was the best thing that could have happened? And if you could have just seen the future, you could have saved yourself so much heartache? Well, I can’t say that I would have saved myself much heartache, but I would have saved my energies and time on something else. In case you didn’t know what I was talking about, diary of mine, it’s all about Gayle and Ben and all the signs I should have seen. Blake woke up about ten minutes after me, and of course he caught me staring at him, well his chest to be exact. What a perfect specimen he was, especially the chest: broad and firm with just a sprinkling mat of hair. He really was an Adonis. “Something on my face?” Blake lifted his arm and rubbed his eyes. “No.” “How much did you drink last night, Mags? You were out within an hour.” “I made sure to drink up at the restaurant,” I laughed. “That you did. So you going to make me breakfast?” he stretched his arms and his long, lean torso stretched with him. Oh my goodness, was he gorgeous or what. “Breakfast? Me?” “I did save you last night. And you know all good wives serve their husbands breakfast in bed.” “Chauvinist,” I grabbed my pillow from under me and hit him. He grabbed it from me and tried to hit me back, but I grabbed onto it like I was wrestling with it. “Oh no you don’t, you lil’ minx!” Blake released his hold on the pillow and started tickling me. I burst into laughter and curled up. I was extremely ticklish, as Blake knew from when we were kids. “Okay, stop, stop,” I screeched. “I’ll make you breakfast. Egg whites and toast.” Blake didn’t stop and instead tickled me some more. I started bucking my body back and forth to get away from him and his rambling fingers. “Oh no you don’t,” Blake growled at me playfully, and all of a sudden we

were rolling around on the bed and I could feel parts of his body that I hadn’t even dared think about before. And then he stopped. He was on top of me now, with his legs around my waist and his hands holding my arms at the sides of my body. I squirmed underneath him, all of a sudden feeling very aware of the proximity of his body to mine and the minimal amount of clothes between us. I stopped. He looked down at me and then he kissed me. My legs opened and I felt his hardness pressing against me as I wrapped my legs around him. His hand moved to my breast and his fingers lightly played with my nipple. My body was on fire as he touched me and we kissed. We rolled to the side and kissed some more and then before I knew it I was on top of him, straddling him. His very hard erection between my legs. I sat there for a few seconds before moving back and forth and then I leaned down to kiss him. My fingers played with his hair and his hands pressed into my waist as he rocked me back and forth on top of him. I could feel myself wanting to go further and I was about to reach down to touch his manhood, when he suddenly pulled away and groaned. I rolled over to the side of the bed and we just looked at each other for a few seconds, sexual tension filling the air. “So are you going to make me a hearty breakfast, good wife of mine?” Blake laughed to break the tension. I wanted to lean up and kiss him on the lips again, but was too scared to. “Okay. Bacon, eggs, and toast?” “Sounds good.” And with that, he leaned down, kissed me on the forehead, and got off of me. “And soon? I’m starving.” My body felt cold and missed his presence so close to mine, but I dismissed trying to seduce him with some morning sex. 1) I didn’t think my breath was good enough to go in for a longer kiss. 2) I’d forgotten what morning sex was and wasn’t sure I could perform well. 3) I was pretty positive Blake saw me as his little sister and this was another one of his lessons. 4) He had a girlfriend. I got out of bed and stretched. “Well, you better show me the kitchen if I’m to cook up this feast.” I all of a sudden felt very self-conscious because Blake was staring at me intently as I stretched. I looked down and could see that half my belly was showing, as the t-shirt he had lent me had ridden up. Oh well, there was my belly in all its glory. It had gone down considerably since we had been reacquainted at the gym a few months ago, but certainly wasn’t showing off any washboard abs. In fact, my fat was doing a pretty good job of hiding any abs that existed as if it were a bodyguard and didn’t want any prying eyes to even know they were there. I tried sucking in my stomach to see if it would make much difference. It

didn’t, or at least not the difference that I was hoping for. It still didn’t look flat. It looked good for someone who had just given birth to triplets. If I had just given birth, people would be astonished and envious of my stomach. They’d be saying things like, “How did she lose the weight so quickly?” and, “Maggie, what’s your secret?” Unfortunately for me, I didn’t have any kids and people around me knew that and thus no one was looking at my stomach in admiration. I did quickly think about the possibility of adopting a child and passing it off as mine but decided that just doing more abdominal workouts would be a cheaper and more feasible option. I looked around Blake’s kitchen in admiration. It fit in with the rest of his house. It was perfect: bright and spacious with modern appliances and a homey feel. I wondered how often Bridget cooked in this kitchen and if she would be upset that I was in here right now. I didn’t even want to think about how she would feel if she knew that I had slept in the same bed as her boyfriend. No matter how nice and congenial she was, and no matter that I was no threat to her, I couldn’t imagine that she would be too happy to learn about either one. It made me feel slightly guilty. I knew that I wouldn’t want another woman in bed with my boyfriend, no matter if they were childhood friends or not. But I suppose we hadn’t done it on purpose and nothing had actually happened, so no harm done. The fridge and pantry were both stocked with goodies that I could only dream about buying, due both to their cost and to my diet. I hesitate to really say ‘diet’ because I’m not doing too great on that front, cupcakes being my one true love, along with a handful (or two) of other just as healthy food options. “Blake, breakfast is ready,” I called out to him after frying up the bacon and scrambling some eggs. “About time,” Blake looked at the table set with plates and smiled. “You remembered the tomatoes and onions.” “How could I forget?” I grinned. Every time Blake had slept over, he had made sure to get my mom to add tomatoes and onions to his plate. It was something his grandma used to do for him with his breakfast, and he never liked to eat his breakfast without them. “Tastes good, Maggie. If the writing career doesn’t work out, you can always be my cook.” “Is that an offer?” I grinned back at him. “I may very well need to take you up on that.” “Uh oh, book not going well?” Blake looked at me in concern. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was really concerned about my book or if he was worried about looking like a fool in front of the publishing contact he had raved to about me.

“It’s going okay. I really got some good ideas flowing when I was with Bridget in the Hills, but it’s been going slowly since then.” “Want to talk about it?” “Not right now.” I didn’t want to ruin the mood by bringing up the book. “Okay. So what are you plans for the day?” I grimaced. “I told Gayle I’d meet her for lunch. She wants to talk to me about Ben.” “Uh oh.” “Yeah, she is going to explain to me what her text message was about last night. She says she likes him. I think they may have hooked up.” “No way.” “Crazy, right? I can’t believe she did this to me.” “Oh, I was more in shock because I thought she was a lesbian.” “What?” I dropped my fork on the plate in surprise. “You thought Gayle was a lesbian?” “Yeah, she always seemed so serious and mean around me. I figured she didn’t like men.” I started laughing. “Oh, that’s just Gayle. She’s intense about everything. You just have to get to know her.” “I was surprised you guys were friends actually...” “Why?” “It just didn’t seem as if your personalities would mesh well. You know, with her being so serious and you...” “Me what?” “You know.” I looked at Blake, pouting and trying to hide a smile. I knew what he meant. “What do you mean, Blake?” “Well, you know, you’re not as serious, and, ahem...” I started laughing. “I know. I think that’s why we get on so well. I provide laughter in her life, and she tries to put some rigidity in mine. Well, at least she did,” I frowned. “I can come with you if you want,” Blake offered. “Actually, I would like that.” I didn’t want to go to lunch with Gayle alone. I had a feeling that if I did, I would be a bundle of emotions, and I frankly didn’t need that right now. “So how is Bridget, by the way? She says she’s busy discovering stuff.” I changed the subject. “Discovering stuff? Like what? Bones?” “I don’t know. Something for a case.”

“Oh, you mean she’s doing discovery.” Blake laughed. “I guess. I don’t know. I’m not a fancy-dancy lawyer.” Blake couldn’t stop laughing. I didn’t to try and pry for more information. “So, how long have you known her?” I tried to act casually, chewing on some toast. “Who?” “Bridget!” I exclaimed in exasperation. Blake really could be dense sometimes. “Oh. Well, we’ve both been at the firm for about 9 years now. We were incoming first-year associates together.” “Oh, wow.” “I know. It’s been a long time.” “And you guys, um, you’ve always gotten along well?” I tried to think of a way to ask how long they had been dating without making it seem I was too interested. “Yes. She’s one of the few people I completely trust.” I died a little inside at that. It didn’t seem as if they would be breaking up any time soon. “So, you guys have a good, uh, relationship then?” How could he be so casual about it all after what had nearly happened that morning? “I would hope so, we are partners after all!” Blake laughed. “Any more bacon left?” I was glad for the excuse to get up and turn my face away from Blake. Something inside me crashed a little when he referred to her as his partner. It seemed to me that when a man referred to a woman as his partner, it meant a little more than just being boyfriend and girlfriend. “How many rashers do you want?” I asked, while adding some more eggs to his plate. “Three, if you have them. I’m a growing boy,” Blake beat his hands against his chest and roared like Tarzan. “You are a goof, Blake,” I laughed. “I hope Bridget doesn’t mind me being here and cooking you breakfast and all,” I mumbled quickly. “Why would she care?” Blake looked at me puzzled. “In fact, if she knew, she would likely wish she were here herself. She hates cooking.” Well, that put me in my place. Blake and Bridget’s relationship was obviously very strong, and he must have already told her that she had nothing to fear by him and me being close. It stung a bit, and I felt my stomach churn, but did I really expect a guy like Blake to be interested in me? “Here you go,” I plunked the plate in front of Blake. “I’m going to go

shower, and you can do the dishes when you are done.” “Oh, woman, didn’t you know you are meant to cook and do the dishes?” Blake laughed as I walked out of the room. I called Gayle and told her that Blake was coming with me to lunch. I hadn’t really wanted to tell her beforehand. I’d wanted her to feel awkward telling me the story of betrayal in front of someone else, but I realized that I had to call her to tell her I would drive to the restaurant and didn’t need her to pick me up. I realized that it had been a mistake for me to tell Gayle that Blake was joining us as soon as we got to the restaurant; for there sitting at the table with Gayle was Ben Bonkers. Blake grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze. “It’ll be okay. Just smile,” he whispered to me. As we walked to the table, I kept my head held high and smiled brightly. I couldn’t help but notice that both Gayle and Ben looked happy. They had a glow about them and they were holding hands. Gayle looked softer than I had seen her in years, and her hair was down and flowing. She looked quite beautiful. A surge of warmth ran through me. It was happiness. I was happy for my friend. She looked like she was floating in the clouds. I realized as we approached the table that I had barely glanced at Ben; compared to Blake, he just didn’t even factor into the equation. I realized that my affections for him had faded considerably since I had met Jasmine. Anyone who could or would date Jasmine was not anyone I had any respect for. “Hey, Maggie. Hey, Blake,” Gayle stood up and gave me a hug. I held my body back a little bit though, and the hug ended awkwardly. “Gayle, good to see you,” Blake gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Ben, how you doing?” “Good, Blake, how’s the legal world treating you?” “Good, good.” Blake and I sat down. I tried to make eye contact with Ben but he avoided my gaze. “So, how’s your day going so far?” Gayle asked brightly. I could tell she was trying as hard as she could to make the mood lighter, but I decided that I wasn’t going to make it any easier for her. It wasn’t so much that I cared about Ben, more that she hadn’t shared with me that she had any feelings for him. “Could have been better,” I shared after ordering a big juicy steak. So what if it was lunchtime? I was getting Gayle’s money’s worth at this meal. “So, how long have you been dating?” I stared at Gayle. I couldn’t be bothered with the pleasantries. I wanted to know how this had happened and when.

“We didn’t mean to hurt you,” Ben finally looked at me. “Hurt me? You?” “I know that you had a crush on me.” “Excuse me?” I look at Gayle accusingly, as I had never told Ben I had a crush on him. “I know you liked me. I knew before Gayle told me.” I squirmed in my seat, embarrassed and annoyed. I could feel my face flushing. “I see.” “Maggie, I’m sorry.” Gayle reached over to grab my hand. I recoiled from her and looked at her in anger. “Sorry for what? Sharing my secrets? Or stealing the guy you knew I liked?” What was the point of holding it all in, I was already embarrassed. “Maggie. I...” Gayle stammered. “Gayle, let me speak first,” Ben spoke softly. I started at him in surprise. He seemed different. Not the usual cocky guy I had become accustomed to. “Maggie, you know ever since we began working at ‘We Love to Read’ you have been one of my closest friends, my confidante.” “Could have fooled me.” “You know me, Maggie. I’m a ladies man. Or I should say I was.” He gazed over lovingly at Gayle. I wanted to puke. “So you used me? As your sounding board?” I asked bitterly. It seemed to me that Gayle had gotten the change that I, myself had envisioned with Ben. Hadn’t I wanted to change him from the ladies man to the man in love? “It wasn’t like that, Mags. He didn’t use you.” “Oh, really? Is that what you are saying now, Gayle? I thought you told me he was an asshole and a player and that I shouldn’t bother wasting my time with him.” “I did. I mean, that was how I felt.” “‘Don’t waste your time on him, Maggie,’ you said. ‘He’ll give you an STD just from a kiss. He’s been around the block in more neighborhoods than we’ve been in combined.’ That’s what you said. So is it true? Did he give you anything?” “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.” I could see tears gathering in her eyes. “Maybe, you can tell us how it happened?” Blake, ever the voice of reason, interrupted. “Honestly...” I interrupted Gayle, “Yes, please be honest this time.” “Maggie.” I looked at Blake, he was frowning at me. Maybe I should have

left him at home. “I was attracted to Ben when I first met him. But I knew you were as well. And as your best friend, I wanted nothing to do with a guy you liked.” My mouth was agape. I had no idea she had liked Ben. “So I thought I would wait until you moved on to the next guy. But you didn’t, and you and Ben became friends. And then Ben and I became friends.” “So you guys were dating behind my back?” “We never went on a date until recently. I swear, Maggie,” Gayle sobbed. “I don’t understand how you guys got together then.” I was confused. “After you told me about your lunch with Ben and Jasmine, I called him up and told him he was an ass to let her speak to you that way. And well, he asked if we could talk in person.” “I wanted to see Gayle. You see, I’d had a crush on her for a long time as well. But I never thought I had a chance.” Gayle reached over and squeezed his hand. “And then...” “Spare me the details.” I was softening but was still in no mood to hear the intimate details of their getting together. “I’m so sorry, Maggie. Can you ever forgive me?” Gayle stared into my eyes. I didn’t know what to say. Gayle had taken my happy ending. She’d converted the bad boy. All my dreams of showing up at the ball in my dress with my new svelte body were down the drain. Then I heard a loud burp. “Oops, sorry,” Blake grinned at me. His eyes were sparkling, and I felt my stomach lurch. I couldn’t help but grin back at him. “You’re gross, Blake,” I slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t hit me, Maggie. You know I could have you arrested for domestic violence. I have witnesses.” Blake pointed at Gayle and Ben, who were staring at us from across the table with surprise in their eyes. Ben’s eyes also seemed to have reproach; seems he might not have been interested in me but still liked my interest. As I looked at Ben with his weak chin and floppy blond hair, I knew there was not an ounce of hurt coursing through me. I was interested in Blake. I had used Ben, in almost the same way he had used me. We had both needed someone, he to talk and me to be the listener. I’d been happy to have a close male friend, and had built fairy tales on the friendship that had nothing to do with reality or my feelings for him. What a mess. If I was honest with myself, I could remember several conversations where Gayle had asked me to repeat information over and over that Ben had told me, and Ben had always asked me to invite Gayle when we were going somewhere. Maybe it shouldn’t have been

such a surprise. “I forgive you, Gayle.”

* * * Blake: You okay? Maggie: I’m fine. Blake: Should we talk about this morning? Maggie: Lesson number three went well. I know now how to go about getting some morning sex if I want some. Blake: Aw, good, good. Maggie: Any tips for me? Anything I could improve? Blake: Maybe next time, don’t wear a bra. Maggie: I’ll have to remember that. Blake: Oh and don’t rub your ass on the guys dick if you don’t want morning sex. Maggie: What? Blake: Just saying? It felt nice, but it left me with blue balls. :) Maggie: Blake! Blake: Just saying. Maggie: Good night. Blake: Night, Maggie.

16 Dear Diary, I’ve been a bad, bad girl. You know those girls that you look at and turn your nose up at? The ones that you gossip about? Call them sluts, whores, and home wreckers? That’s me. I feel so ashamed of myself, yet, I feel so good. So empowered. Okay, and I feel a little guilty. I think I need to go to church and say ten Hail Marys, even though I’m not a Catholic. Okay, I’m a bit of a drama queen, but what I did was sooo bad. Gayle and I made up within a week. Once I realized that Ben never really meant much to me and that Gayle had been crushing on him for years, I started to feel guilty. I mean if it hadn’t been for me, they might have gotten together a long time ago. Plus, I also needed someone to talk to about Blake. While Bridget was a really great friend to me, there was no way I could talk to her about my burgeoning feelings for Blake. The gym, my book, Gayle and Ben; everything else was fine, but Blake, he never came up. Which I thought was a bit strange. I mean if I had been dating him, he would be all I could talk about. But not Bridget; she never brought him up, save for some work-related conversations. I guess she just didn’t want to rub it in that she had Mr. Perfect and I had no one. Gayle, Bridget, and I went to the gym together pretty regularly now. The marathon was coming up and I was starting to panic. Even though I was in better shape than I had been in years, I still wasn’t able to run for very long without getting bored and tired. Gayle had offered to change my run to the 5K or halfmarathon, but I had something to prove. Not to myself but to her. “Hey, Mags, wanna hit the sauna in a few minutes?” Bridget interrupted my thoughts as I cycled away on the recumbent bike. “Sure,” I wiped my forehead with my towel. We walked to the sauna slowly; mainly because I was enjoying the appreciative looks of some of the men in the gym. Okay, so the men smiling and looking me up and down worked there as maintenance and upkeep men, but it still felt good. I was no longer as upset at the fact that most of the men in the gym didn’t check me out; I’d figured out that most of them were gay and were too busy checking out each other’s pecs and biceps to be interested in my boobs and butt.

“So, been on any more dates recently?” Bridget grinned at me. She knew all about the dreadful dates I’d been on and had found it hilarious. “No. Actually I cancelled my Cupidlove account. I wasn’t very happy with how it was going.” What I really meant was that I wasn’t really happy with the caliber of guys I was attracting and that I was planning on going back online when I had lost some weight or gotten Photoshop to help edit my photos a little bit. “Ah, I can understand that.” “Yeah. I’ve a mind to sue them actually for the bunch of losers I ended up going on dates with. Did I tell you about the guy who took me to that lobster restaurant? Told me to order anything and everything I wanted. ‘Money is no object’ he said. Well, of course it wasn’t. He had ‘left his wallet at home,’ and I ended up having to pay 200 dollars. Can you believe that?” “I take it from the cost that you took him up on his offer to order whatever you wanted?” “Well, I took his cue. He was ordering steak and lobster, so I figured why not?” I laughed. “Not only did it about bust my bank account, it made me gain 5 pounds as well.” Bridget started laughing. “Oh, Maggie.” “And then he had the gall to ask me if I had money to pay for a taxi as he’d had too much to drink and didn’t want to drive.” “Oh, Maggie. You didn’t make him drive home drunk, did you?” She looked at me concerned. “No. You know I wouldn’t do that. But I did one better. We called the cab over, and when it arrived, I told him to get in. I then pretended that I was going to pay the cab up front for him. But instead, I told the cab driver to take him to the O.C.” “The O.C.? But didn’t he live in Los Angeles County?” “Yup.” I started laughing. “I wish I could have seen his face when he woke up in Irvine. And the meter. It must have been hundreds.” “Oh, Maggie,” Bridget couldn’t help laughing. “You’re incorrigible.” “I haven’t heard that term since I was a little kid.” I laughed a little sadly, as the word reminded me of Blake. “Sometimes I wonder if you still aren’t one.” She was shaking her head. “I know, I know. Maybe that’s why I have such bad luck meeting guys. I’m too immature.” “If anything, you should meet more guys. They are just as bad.” “Well, not Blake,” I inserted his name into the conversation slyly. Hopefully, I could get some more information.

“Blake’s the most immature of them all.” And with that, Bridget started doing stretching exercises. I don’t know how she did it. The sauna was so hot, it was hard enough for me to just sit there and talk, let alone move around. “Wanna go out tonight, Mags? I have some college friends in town who want to go to a club, and you know that’s not really my scene.” “Sure, sounds good to me. Where were you thinking?” “Not sure yet. I’ll find out. Invite Blake if you want, and Gayle and Ben, if you can stand being around them.” I was a bit surprised that she wanted me to invite Blake, but maybe she was being thoughtful. She most probably didn’t want to couple up and make me feel uncomfortable as the lonely single girl, if it was too much for me. Bridget was just perfect. “Sure. I don’t mind if Blake comes. Or Gayle and Ben. What’s one more couple to add to the mix?” “Great. I’ve got to get to the office to do some work, but I’ll let you know where the girls want to go.” “Wow, you sure do work a lot. Blake doesn’t mind?” “Ha, he’s glad that I’m working a lot. It means more money for us. We’re partners, so one working more hours means more for both of us now.” “Oh, I see.” Were they saving up to pay for their wedding? And what a wedding that was going to be, if they needed so much money for it. And there was that word again. Partners. It was starting to annoy me. Why couldn’t they talk like every other heterosexual couple and just say they were boyfriend and girlfriend! “See you tonight, Maggie.” Bridget glided out of the sauna looking serene. I could see her getting appreciative looks both from the maintenance workers and the men who were working out in the gym. I saw one of the guys I had definitely put in my gay book almost fall off of the elliptical watching her walk to the locker room. Guess I was wrong about the strength of my gaydar.

* * * Blake, Gayle, and Ben were all in for going to the nightclub, and Blake even offered to pick me up, saying he wasn’t going to be drinking. I was surprised that he wouldn’t be taking Bridget and her friends but figured maybe they wanted a female bonding night away from men. Bridget wanted us all to go to some swanky new club called Stars Alight, in Hollywood. I’d never heard of it, but Gayle said she would get the directions to Blake, as she had been there before. I wanted to ask her when she went, seeing

as we had never gone to a party at night without each other for years, but realized it must have been with Ben, and I didn’t really want to hear about any more of their secret rendezvous. “Shoot, I’ve only got an hour to get ready, Lucy!” I shrieked while running around my apartment. Unfortunately, Lucy thought it was a game and started running after me. Ever since we had started running outside more often, Lucy had gained an incessant amount of energy and had taken to running and playing more often than sleeping when at home. I had to be careful every morning when I woke up to make sure I didn’t open my eyes until I knew if Lucy was on the bed or not. I’d awaken and peek through my eyelids surreptitiously to see if she was looking at me, because once Lucy knew I was awake, she would drop a tennis ball or a shoe on my face, which indicated that she was ready to play. “Not now, Lucy. I promise we will play tomorrow. I’ll take you on a long walk in the hills.” I bent down to kiss Lucy on the forehead and had to quickly move my face as she tried to lick me on the lips. “What to wear? What to wear?” I mumbled to myself while looking through my closet. I took out 3 dresses and laid them on the bed and then ran into the shower. “Don’t jump on the bed, Lucy!” I shouted out as I jumped into the shower. The last thing I needed was Lucy’s dog hair on the dress. I conditioned my curly hair and scrubbed my body quickly. I would need at least 45 minutes to blow dry my hair straight and apply my makeup. The doorbell rang as I was shaving my legs, and I nicked myself. “Argh,” I shouted. There was blood running down my leg. “Who is it?” I jumped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my body. “It’s me.” I looked at the clock. Blake was early. I opened the door and glared at him, conditioner running down my face. “You’re early.” “That I am. Figured you might need some help deciding what outfit to wear.” “Very funny. Have a seat. You can play with Lucy while I finish showering.” Lucy ran up to Blake in delight, tennis ball in mouth. I felt a bit bad for unleashing Lucy on him, as he had on a crisp black shirt and what looked to be some designer jeans. All in all, Blake was looking very spiffy in his sharp and soon-to-be-covered-in-hair outfit. I tried to ignore the butterflies in my stomach. I wanted to rip his shirt off and pull down his jeans. I wanted to have my wicked way with him. “Take your time. Gayle called and said they were running a bit late.”

“Hummph,” I mumbled, wondering to myself why they were going to be late. However, inside I was a little happy as that meant I had time to really get my hair as straight as possible. The humidity made it really hard for me to blow dry my hair and keep it straight for longer than 30 minutes. Lucy was curled up on Blake’s lap when I finally came back out of the bedroom, with my hair in wavy tresses down my back. Blake whistled as I walked into the room. “Sexy mama, you got a blind date tonight you haven’t told me about? Do I need to take watch again?” “Ha-ha, very funny. No, I just felt like looking glam tonight.” And that I did, in my silk red dress and black pumps. My lipstick was also bright red and I felt like a bit of a tramp. But I knew the outfit suited me, and really, that was all that mattered. “Well, glam you certainly are, my dear.” He held my gaze for longer than normal and I turned away, slightly embarrassed and somewhat shy. If I hadn’t known any better, I would have thought he was giving me bedroom eyes. “Do you need any other lessons tonight?” “Lessons like what?” “Oh, I don’t know.” He reached up and grabbed my hands and pulled me towards him. Lucy jumped off of his lap and gave me a dirty look as I fell on top of him. “What are you doing?” “Teaching you the art of seduction.” He said as his eyes darkened. “You look very sexy tonight, Maggie.” “I do?” I didn’t know if he was saying this for real or as a coach. “Kiss me.” He said, not blinking and because I didn’t have to be asked twice I leaned forward to kiss him softly. His hands went around my waist and he kissed me back, deeply. I melted against him and my fingers started unbuttoning his shirt. I felt his hands sliding down the straps of my red dress, so that my breasts were close to being visible. His lips then moved from my lips and kissed down my neck and across my collarbone, until they got to the tops of my breasts. I froze as I wondered how far he was going to go, but then he stopped and pulled my straps up. “Moo-moo, you got anything to drink?” Blake said suddenly in a gruff voice and I could feel myself getting flustered. “What did I tell you about calling me that?” “That you love it?” “I could kill you, William Blake Connor. What do you want? I have wine, beer, and water.” I jumped up off of his lap and straightened my dress.

“You have any Coke? I think I need some caffeine.” “Sure, hold on. It might be flat though.” Ever since I had started my diet, I’d tried to stick to just drinking water, aside from when I went out. The Cokes I had in my fridge had been in there for months. “You weren’t joking, were you?” Blake took a big gulp of the Coke and put the can on the table. “Maybe we should just get going? If you’re ready, of course.” “Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s go,” I grabbed my handbag and noticed that Lucy was running circles around the room. “Sorry, Lucy, not you. I promise we will go on a long walk tomorrow.” I bent down to give her a kiss. “That sounds like fun. Can I come too?” Blake looked at me with a smile. If I wasn’t absolutely sure I was wrong, I could have sworn he looked hesitant and shy. “Sure. I mean, if you want.” I didn’t want to sound too eager. “Great. I wanted to talk to you about something as well, so we can do it on the walk.” “Oh, okay.” I knew he had to have a reason why he wanted to hang out with me again so quickly. It was likely that he wanted to grill me about my book again. “Let’s go, Moo-moo. I don’t want to fall asleep and miss the festivities.” “Ha-ha, okay. Let’s go.”

* * * The club was pretty packed when we got there. I laughed when I saw that the name of the club was actually Aligning Stars. It seemed to me that Bridget was human after all, as she had gotten the name completely wrong. “I thought Stars Alight seemed like a weird name for a club,” I chuckled to Blake as we worked our way to the bar. “What do you want to drink?” He had managed to push his way into an open spot. “Sex on the beach,” I shot back. “What?” he yelled. “Sex on the beach.” Several men next to me looked me up and down. “Maybe later?” Blake shot back. “Pervert,” I hit his arm and laughed. He got our drinks quickly and led me to a quieter spot near the dance floor. “Thanks,” I reached over to take my drink and our fingers grazed. I felt a

tiny spark go through me at the connection. Shit! I didn’t want to be thinking or feeling these things for Blake. “So is Bridget nearly here?” I asked, trying to verbally remind myself that Blake was a taken man and that I knew his girlfriend, and that she was a friend of mine. “No idea.” “Oh.” “What about Gayle and Ben?” “Let me text and find out.” I reached into my bag to grab my phone and find out where Gayle was. I expected Blake to do the same and find out where Bridget was but he just continued to drink his beer. I would never understand their relationship. It seemed so laissez-faire and laid-back. But maybe that was why it worked so well. Neither one seemed to have placed any expectations on the other. “Okay, Gayle says she will be here in about 20 minutes.” “Sounds good.” Ten seconds later, a group of girls pushed past us to go boogie on the dance floor, and Blake was shoved up against me. My drink spilled a little on my chest. I was wearing a slightly low-cut dress, so the liquid was on my bare skin. Blake grabbed a tissue and wiped away the alcohol from my body. I was inches away from him, and my body could feel every vibration and heartbeat in his. All of a sudden, it seemed very warm in the club. I looked up into his eyes. They always had such a twinkle, like the closest stars in the sky do. They seemed to want to lead me somewhere, but I knew that that somewhere would not be good. “Thanks,” I whispered when he finished wiping my chest. “My pleasure.” We were still staring at each other. It was then that we heard his phone. “Oh, it’s Bridget. Let me get it.” I took a step back as he shouted on the phone, trying to find out where she was. “We’re here already. We’re here already,” he kept repeating over again. I guess the club music was drowning out what he was saying. “I think she said she will be here in 30 minutes. One of her friends broke a heel, and they had to go back home and change.” “Oh cool.” I was disappointed that Bridget had called him and was on the way. “Wanna dance?” Blake nodded towards the dance floor. There were quite a few people around the dance floor now. The gaggle of girls had attracted a bunch

of men to the sides of the dance floor, staring at them and working up the courage to ask for a dance. The DJ started playing one of my favorite hip hop songs, and the beat was infectious. I gulped down the rest of my drink, and we walked on to the dance floor. I was a bit hesitant at first in my dance moves, but Blake was moving around as if his body was on fire. It took everything in me to keep from laughing. Blake, who was perfect in every way, couldn’t dance. His sense of rhythm and beat was so off that his dancing seemed almost comical. “I didn’t say I could dance,” he leaned over and whispered in my ear. He grabbed my hands and started twirling me around the dance floor. We were dancing to ‘Thriller’ when Gayle and Ben found us. We only noticed them because they started cat-calling to us as we were moving around, me doing the Robot and Blake breakdancing. We all started laughing, and I gave Gayle and Ben a big hug. They seemed surprised at my display of goodwill and emotion, but I was in a good mood and having fun. “Let me get everyone a drink. What do you guys want?” Ben volunteered. I’m sure he was thinking he better keep me inebriated to ensure I remained in a good mood. We told him our drink orders and Blake went to help him bring the drinks back. “You look great, Maggie,” Gayle commented. “Thanks.” “I mean it. You are glowing. You look marvelous.” “I’ve still got about 30 pounds to go,” I laughed. “It doesn’t show.” Gayle grabbed my hand, “I truly mean it, Maggie.” I stared at Gayle. All her walls seemed to have deteriorated in the past month. Ben really seemed to be working some sort of magic on her. I wasn’t used to such gushing from her; not in all the years I had known her. I was thankful when Blake and Ben appeared with the drinks. I didn’t really know what to say to Gayle. I did know that my trips to the gym had paid off and I was looking the best I had in years, but I certainly wasn’t in tip-top or model shape. I wouldn’t be walking around in any sexy lingerie on a catwalk any time soon. That was for sure. Blake had bought us all 2 shots to accompany our drinks from Ben. “Trying to get us drunk, Blake?” Gayle teased him. “You know it,” he grinned back at her. We all downed the shots pretty quickly. They were sweet and strong, just like I like them. “Shall we go dance, guys?” Blake pointed to the dance floor again. I was

surprised that he was eager to go back, considering his lack of skills, but I guess he was confident enough to not let that stop him from having a good time. “Sure.” Gayle grabbed Ben’s hand, and they went out to the dance floor and started grinding. “Guess we know why they were so eager to go dance,” I joked to Blake. “Well, who doesn’t enjoy a good close dance? I know I do.” And just as quickly as he had spoken, he put his arms around me, pulled me close to him and started gyrating. I could feel his hardness against me and I moved in time to him. I turned around so that his arms were around my waist and my ass was on him and did my best dirty dancing. I felt Blake’s body freezing as I moved my ass back and forth. I couldn’t believe that I was that brave to do that, but I didn’t want to stop. “I guess you’re learning the art of seduction very well, aren’t you?” He whispered in my ear. “If you keep that up, you’ll make any guy want you.” “Oh!” Before I had a chance to pull away or hit him, he let me go and laughed. “Don’t panic, little Maggie. I won’t accost you on the dance floor.” And with his eyes laughing at me, he walked off and started doing the chicken dance to a rap song. It wasn’t until about 2 hours later, after several more drinks, that I thought about Bridget again. “You heard from Bridget, Blake? She still isn’t here.” I was surprised, though not shocked at this point, that Blake hadn’t wondered where she was and didn’t even really seem to care now either. He reached into his pocket, looked at his cell phone and put it back. “So?” “Nope, no messages.” I didn’t pursue it. If he didn’t seem to care, I didn’t want to make a big deal of it. We continued dancing, and I was flying high by the end of the night, as several handsome men had asked me to dance. “Bell of the ball tonight, huh, Mags?” Blake teased me as we waited outside the club for Ben and Gayle to exit at the end of the night. “I don’t know about that. Seems to me that guys will dance with any girl who says yes at clubs,” I replied casually, not wanting to let on just how thrilled and excited I had been. Especially when I had caught Blake frowning at me a few times as I had danced with the other men. Gayle and Ben exited then and we all decided to get cabs home. “No way any of us can drive home tonight,” Blake was emphatic, as Ben was trying to convince us that he could drive. We made sure to see Ben and Gayle get

into a cab before we looked for another one. “I guess we should take one cab so I can make sure you get dropped off first and make it home safely.” “Oh, okay.” Blake was such a gentleman, and I appreciated the offer, as I was all of a sudden feeling very intoxicated. We flagged down a cab and got in. I cuddled into Blake’s chest, laid my head on his shoulder, and fell asleep in the warmth of his body. I only awoke when the cool air hit my face as he was walking me up to my apartment. “Ooh, where is the cab?” I murmured. “I let it go.” “Oh?” “I figure I’ll sleep on the couch. This way, you can give me a ride to get my car tomorrow morning and then we can take Lucy on her walk.” “Oh, smart idea. You always were so smart, Blakey.” I then started singing random Madonna songs. “Like a virgin, ooh, touched for the very first...” “Shh, you’ll wake up the neighbors, Maggie,” Blake put his fingers across my lips. I started giggling and kissed his fingers. “Such strong but soft fingers, Blakey.” Blake had his arm around me and reached over to grab my handbag so that he could get my keys. As he reached into my handbag his hand grazed my stomach and I felt a tremor of electricity course through me as it moved up to my breasts. “Are you coming on to me, Blakey?” I purred at him. He didn’t answer me as he opened the door. I saw Lucy on the couch looking up at us disinterestedly. Sleep was more important to her than greeting us this late at night. Blake guided me into the bedroom, where I promptly fell on the bed. “Oh, Maggie, I think you have had way too much to drink. Can you undress by yourself?” I closed my eyes and ignored him, just wanting to enjoy the softness of my bed and some quiet. “Shh,” I said. I felt hands on me, pulling my straps down, slightly lifting me and pulling off my dress. “Where do you keep your PJs, Mags?” I ignored him. I heard him opening drawers and rifling through my clothes. “It’s hot. I’ll sleep like this.” At this point, I didn’t care that I was just in my underwear.

“Okay.” Blake moved me over and pulled the sheets over me. And then he kissed me on the forehead. I reached up to him and put my arms around him. “Thanks, Blakey.” I opened my eyes and stared at him. “You’re welcome.” Blake gazed into my eyes. There was something in them that made me pull him down onto the bed. “Sleep with me. The couch is uncomfortable,” I patted the spot next to me. “My bed is a pillow top, sooo comfy.” “You sure?” “I’m sure.” And with that I cuddled into him. He put his arms around me and we started kissing again. I didn’t stop him when he pulled my bra straps down. I didn’t stop him when my bra came off completely. I cried out when I felt his lips on my naked breasts and when his fingers reached down further, I moaned in ecstasy. His fingers were light to the touch, but they knew exactly what they were doing and when they slipped into my panties, I felt like my whole body was on fire. His fingers entered me and brought me to an orgasm as we kissed and my body pressed into his wanting more. However, he just continued to kiss and hold me until I fell asleep. I awoke up around 5 a.m. enclosed in his arms. He had taken his shirt and jeans off and was lying there in his Calvin Klein boxers. I was still slightly delirious and snuggled into him closer. I must have woken him up, because his eyes opened slightly and he held me to him tighter. I raised my eyes to look at him, and the next thing I knew, I was kissing him and I was laying on top of him, with his arms caressing my back. Lucy jumping onto the bed around 9 a.m. woke me up. I stretched and felt Blake’s body next to mine. Thank God he was still fast asleep. I then realized that my bra was off and I was encircled in his arms. I groaned. I vaguely remembered kissing him and rolling around on the bed, but the details were a blur. I realized I really wanted to have sex with him. I wanted to pull his boxer shorts off and I wanted to feel him inside of me. I grabbed my handbag to check my cell phone. I groaned and immediately felt like a harlot when I realized there were 5 texts from Bridget. First, one asking if we had made it to the club yet, the others asking where we were, and the final one saying one of her friends was drunk and they were going home. And looking by the time of her first text, she had contacted me before she had called Blake, twice in fact. Interesting. I looked down at Blake and groaned again. What a mess this was!

17 Dear Diary, I am going to be a TV star. Well, I am going to be on TV, and I am so excited. This could lead to a career as a movie star or at least into dating movie stars. Though, I don’t really care about being a movie star or even dating one if I’m honest. I want Blake. But that’s another story. If I can’t have Blake, then a Hollywood star will do, even a famous TV chef would go down well with me. He could feed me sumptuous food, and I could forget Blake then. Though I suppose if I had Blake, I could take cooking lessons and learn to make my own sumptuous foods. Then I wouldn’t need a handsome TV chef. I’d have a handsome man and could cook for myself. Oh well. That isn’t a problem that I currently have; there are currently no movie stars knocking my door down. But maybe soon, when I am actually on TV. Although I don’t really know the number of viewers that public access TV shows get at 11 p.m. I jumped out of bed and hopped in the shower before Blake woke up. I didn’t want him to wake up and see my half-naked body next to his and have it be all awkward. I mean awkward guilt is the worst, and I knew that he would feel horrendous. Blake’s not the sort to cheat, and he’d likely be mad I took advantage of him in his inebriated state. I didn’t really stop to think about the flirtation that had been going on all night. Or the fact that I had been drunk as well. It just felt so weird to me and well, it was like some ill-fated romance. Because what if he did like me? He and Bridget were partners and had been together for years and she was one of my good friends now. I couldn’t come between them; it would be like bad karma. So I was damned if I did and damned if I didn’t. Blake walked into the living room in his boxers, Lucy trotting behind him like she was captivated by him as well. “Morning,” he came up to me and ruffled my head. I turned my face as he leaned over to kiss me. “Morning,” I pretended to yawn and kept my head down. “Are you hungry? I can make us some breakfast.” “Um, yeah. Thanks,” I could feel Blake staring at me, trying to make eye contact, but I was scared to look at him. He also seemed a bit angry. How could

he treat Bridget this way? “I’ll make something with lots of carbs.” I looked up at him. “Huh?” “For the walk.” “Oh, yeah, sure.” So he still wanted to come on the walk. I was surprised. I thought he would have high-tailed it out of there once he realized what had happened last night. “You okay, Maggie?” “Yeah, why?” “You seem distant.” He looked at me questioningly. “Are you upset about last night?” “I’m fine.” “I should think you’d be more than fine, after I made you come.” He winked at me. I gasped and stared at him in shock. “So why didn’t we ...?” I asked him, not wanting to say the words. “It wasn’t the right time..” Blake grinned and tried to put on a sad face as he answered my unspoken question. “Did you really want to?” He stared into my eyes. “Actually, no, I...” “Maggie, you don’t need to answer the question.” “Oh.” My cheeks colored with embarrassment. I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. I was so confused. I groaned. “No need to be sad. We can hop in the bed right now if you want.” I hit Blake across the chest and Lucy growled. What sort of turncoat was this dog? “I don’t think so, Blake. You can have a shower while I cook breakfast. There are clean towels in the closet in the bathroom.” “Ah, not so naughty in the morning, huh, Maggie Moo?” He was laughing so hard that he could barely get his words out. I thought I would sober him up. “Bridget texted me 5 times last night.” “Oh, yeah?” he didn’t look particularly concerned. Bastard. “Yes. Maybe you should give her a call.” “Why? She didn’t text me.” “She’s your partner, Blake. I think she has a right to know.” “Know about what?” “Last night...” I didn’t really want to say more. Blake looked at me like an alien from outer space. “She may be my partner, but she doesn’t run my life, and she doesn’t need to know every single thing I

do. Unless you want to tell her about last night, she won’t know a thing.” I couldn’t believe how brazen he was. He came over to me and pulled me to him. “Some things you don’t tell others about. Unless of course you’ve already told Gayle?” And with that, he gave me a huge kiss and then slapped my ass. “I’m going to shower now.” He walked away from me with a confident gait, while I stood there with my mouth open.

* * * We didn’t talk about it again over breakfast, nor on the drive to get his car. He was too busy telling me funny stories about some of his clients and asking me about my work at We Like to Read. I regaled him with some of my best stories from work. Last year, the committee for our fundraising event had somehow sent invitations to all the single-parent families of LA; Ben had gotten the mail merge feature messed up. We ended up spending 5,000 dollars to provide food for our guests and not getting a penny in return. And the year before that when we held our annual spelling bee, Lola had disqualified someone for spelling a word incorrectly, only to find out after 10 minutes of arguing that she had typed the spelling of the word wrong on her list. That had been priceless. Gayle, Ben, and I had to go to the back of the room for a minute and control our laughter after we found out that Lola was in the wrong. “So, what are the parts of your job that you love then, Mags?” “That I love?” “Yes. I assume that there is a reason you’ve been there so long.” I chewed on my bottom lip and tilted my head to the side while I thought about what he had asked. What did I love about We Love to Read? “The children. I love going to the schools and listening to the children read. Especially when they get excited about a book. And they learn to read words they didn’t know before or always got wrong. It’s amazing. The look in their eyes, the bright smiles. Their happiness is real, and they are so proud of themselves, and I am so proud of them. I feel like for those 30 minutes every week, I’ve really made a difference,” I gushed out quickly, carried away with memories of experiences I’d had in different elementary schools. “That’s really great, Maggie.” I looked over at Blake, who was staring at me with admiration. It made me feel good inside and a bit guilty; I hadn’t done many school visits lately because I had been so preoccupied with other things. “Have you ever thought, Mags, that it could be a great way to get ideas for

your book and to see what children like? “Not really. I never thought about it.” “I have an idea. Remember yesterday I wanted to talk to you? “Yes.” “Well, one of my clients is creating a TV show on the local schools here. He wants to highlight what the community is doing to help, and hopes it will motivate others to join in and do the same.” “Okay.” “I’m writing up the contracts between his production company and the school boards, so that he has permission to film.” “What does this have to do with me?” “He’s looking for a host, someone in the industry of education who is making a difference. I think you would be perfect.” “Why?” “Because you have a passion and you really care about these kids. And because I think it will help motivate you to write your book.” “Oh.” I was happy at the fact that he thought I would be a good TV host, but I was hoping he was going to say because I was beautiful and well-spoken. “So, will you do it?” “Isn’t there some sort of audition I have to go through?” “No, when he asked me if I knew of anyone, I said I knew the perfect person.” “Wow. Thanks, I think. I hope I can live up to that. I’ve never been on TV before. What if I clam up in front of millions of people?” “I should have told you. It’s for a public access TV station.” “Oh.” I was a bit disappointed. Who wanted to be on public access TV? No one ever watched those channels. “So, will you do it?” “Sure, sure, sounds like fun.” I tried to sound more positive than I felt. I had already been picturing myself on billboards all over town and fans all over the country setting up Facebook fan pages for me. There was no way that was going to happen on public access TV unless I created the pages myself. But I wanted to show Blake that I could actually do something. “Great. I’ll have you meet Stephen on Monday.” “Great.” Blake grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “Thanks for doing this, Maggie. You are truly the best.” “Thanks,” I smiled back at him, lost in the warmth in his eyes. I thought that I could stare into the brown pools and search for his soul forever. And then his

phone rang. I glanced at the screen as he went to answer it. It was Bridget. I tried to gaze out of the window and not listen. Blake was talking hurriedly and was frustrated. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m not busy. I’ll meet you in 30 minutes.” My stomach churned when I heard those words but refused to turn around. I supposed this was what happened when you were a mistress; you took whatever forbidden minutes you could. “Hey, Maggie,” Blake hung up the phone, “I’m sorry, but I can’t go on the walk with you and Lucy anymore today. Something has come up.” “Oh, really?” I looked at him questioningly. “Yeah, I have to go and meet Bridget.” “I see.” We were already at the club parking lot where Blake had left his car the night before. He got out hurriedly, then bent down and spoke through the open window. “I’ll see you on Monday in my office. Ten a.m., okay?” “That’s fine.” I watched him walk away to his car quickly and jump in like he was in a race for his life. As he sped off, a tear rolled down my face. He hadn’t even kissed me goodbye. It was obvious to me that he was now feeling guilty about last night and couldn’t wait to rush over to Bridget and make it right. I felt both ashamed of myself and sorry for myself at the same time. Some boyfriend coach, Blake had turned out to be.

18 Dear Diary, I suppose you think I’m a slut or just really whimsical and flaky. I feel that what I’m about to tell you is going to further convince of that. Even though it’s not true. But I kinda have a new crush. But it’s not really real. This one is so that I can get over Blake. I saw him interacting and whispering with Bridget on Monday, and my heart skipped a beat. But not the good kind of skip, more like the one that tells of impending doom. The thump beat that drums out any sort of happiness and positive emotions. That’s how I felt when I saw them together, and then Stephen smiled at me and flirted, and something in me picked up. A psychologist might say that I go from relationship to relationship to heal the holes in my heart. The only problem with that diagnosis is that I never actually dated Ben or Blake. I was excited when I woke up on the day I was to begin working on the show. I had the go-ahead from my boss at We Love to Read to take time off to film the TV show, as he felt that it would be great exposure for us and bring in a lot more donors. I had omitted to tell him that the show was going to be on public access TV and had made it seem like it was going to be on PBS. So, I didn’t completely lie, but only because I didn’t think that he or Lola, who was listening in on the conversation, would believe that I had gotten a big network TV show. Blake’s client was a guy by the name of Stephen. At first glance, he had seemed like he was a bit arrogant and annoying, but he was also very handsome. I soon found myself staring after him as he walked around talking animatedly about the project and my role in it. I was also aware of the warm feeling that grew inside of me every time he smiled at me or made eye contact. There was something about him that I found incredibly appealing. The most noticeable thing about Stephen was his hair. He had a big floppy mop of curly hair that seemed to be springing in every direction; it made him look like a little kid, and that image was perpetuated by his constant running around. We had hit it off right away at Blake’s office, and he had offered me the job within 20 minutes. My first day was going pretty well, partly because I was attracted to him. His smile was infectious, and I soon found myself bumbling around after him,

attempting to do whatever tasks he asked. It seemed that I had taken on the role of gaffer as well as star. “So, Maggie, you dating anyone?” My heart nearly skipped a beat when Stephen asked me about my dating life. What did it mean? Did he want to know because he was interested in me? Did he want to ask me out? Perhaps he was thinking about one day marrying me and having kids? What would we name our kids? What religion would they be? I knew he was Jewish and wondered if he would want the kids to be raised that way? Would I mind? Should I tell him I’m single, or will he think that means no other guys are interested? “Not anyone serious,” was what I ended up saying. “Oh cool.” And then he walked away. What did that mean? And did he have a girlfriend? I tried to bring the conversation up again while we were eating lunch. “So, is your wife going to come by and see what you are working on?” I tried my best to smile prettily, without seeming like I was prying for information. “Wife?” Steven started laughing, “I don’t have a wife.” I smiled to myself while wondering why the question had been so funny to him. Had there been something on my face when I asked the question? Before I could slip in my next question about a girlfriend, he whipped out his phone and made a call. I was slightly annoyed at his always taking and receiving phone calls wherever we were. I sat back in my chair and looked around the restaurant. I could see two uppity women looking at the table and staring at Stephen. I knew they were uppity because they had matching LV handbags, with matching Tory Burch flats and matching bleach-blonde hair. I knew that they were looking at me and my Target-inspired wardrobe and sneering. They most likely thought I was Stephen’s personal assistant; little did they know that I was soon to be the star of a hit TV show. Maybe not this current show. I myself was having doubts about exactly how many people were going to watch it. However, I was sure that this would somehow lead to me getting cast in some sort of blockbuster. I mean, isn’t that how it always goes: unknown and not especially talented girl gets cast in bit piece, super duper director is channel surfing and catches her small role on public access TV and can’t seem to change the channel. He finds out her name, has his people call her people, and next thing you know, she is on top of the Hollywood crowd and winning an Oscar. I would have to start practicing my Oscar acceptance speech, and when I got a call from an unknown 1-877 number, I realized I would have to start answering the phone even when I didn’t recognize the numbers. Which was something I

didn’t really want to have to do. There were a couple of bills that I had paid late. Okay, I hadn’t actually paid them yet, and their customer service people were harassing me. But really, I had principles. I wasn’t about to pay for a year’s subscription to People magazine that hadn’t had one poster of Bradley Cooper inside it. I mean really. That’s the only reason I had gotten the magazine. And let’s not talk about the pet insurance I had signed Lucy up for. I had taken her in for a teeth cleaning and been told that the insurance didn’t cover that process. What a waste of money! I decided that I would have to answer the phone with different accents. That way, anyone wanting Maggie Lane in relation to an unpaid bill would be told, “Me no speaky English,” and everyone else would just think that I was doing so well that I now had a personal secretary. Yeah, that would be nice. I wished I could afford a real personal assistant. “Hello, hellllo, hilllow, hillow, hellow.” I was trying out my new accents under my breath, trying to decide which one I would use to answer the phone, when Stephen finished his phone call. I looked up from my practice to see him looking at me with an odd expression. “I, I, was just practicing my opening spiel for the show,” I mumbled to him, slightly embarrassed, noting that the blonde bimbos had also seen me talking under my breath and now seemed to be cattily laughing to each other. “Oh, well you know we won’t require too much impromptu speech from you. We have screenwriters for that.” “I know, but you know, I thought I would give it a personal touch.” “That’s all good and well, Maggie, but we want to ensure that you come off as a serious and dedicated educator.” “I know.” (Serious and dedicated educator? What was he talking about?). “This may be a show for public access TV, but I see this becoming a movie. The next big education movie, you know, like ‘Waiting for Superman’.” “Superman? Wow, so I’m going to be the teacher version of Lois Lane?” Take that, catty bitches. I looked over at them at their table sneering at me; little did they know I was the next superhero movie heroine. “Lois Lane?” Stephen looked at me with a blank stare. For a cute guy, he had many, many annoying habits. Being with Stephen made me miss Blake, a lot. I felt my heart pang a little bit at the thought of Blake. I hadn’t seen him since the office meeting; I was too embarrassed to be around him and too jealous of Bridget. “Clark Kent’s love?” I wanted to add the duh part so badly but had a feeling that Stephen was not the sort of guy who would appreciate my elementaryschool vocabulary. “Clark Kent as in Superman?” He still looked at me, puzzled. Was I speaking

some sort of foreign language here? “Yes, Superman. You just said you wanted to make the next Superman movie. Or a movie like Superman.” Was I really going to be the genius in this relationship? Well, if there was ever a relationship, was I really going to be the Einstein? “No, I said I wanted to make a movie that was comparable to ‘Waiting for Superman.’ You do know that movie, don’t you? About charter schools and...” “Oh yes, yes,” I cut him off. I didn’t want to go too far down this road. I had somewhat exaggerated about my knowledge of the education system when I had met Stephen. I’d wanted to impress him and ensure I got the role. I mean, I knew some things from my work with We Love to Read, but was by no means an expert, or, even if I was honest, very proficient in how schools worked. I wasn’t even really sure what a charter school was. I’d have to go and look it up when I got back home. “I must have misheard you. I thought you said ‘Superman’ but I see how much more relevant ‘Waiting for Superman’ would be for someone with your passion,” I smiled up at him winningly, hoping he was buying what I had to say. “Yes, I think my angle on the school system in California and the fact that I have some connections in the Mayor’s Office will really help me make a movie that will blow ‘Waiting For Superman’ out of the water.” “Oh really?” “Yes, in fact, I just got some new stats about test scores that are incredible. The school district does not want these facts out, but my buddy at the LA Times faxed me over some of the files. A whole lotta people are going to be in big trouble.” “Oh?” “Yeah. In fact, would you like to come over tonight? Maybe you can go over some of the files with me, as I am not sure exactly what everything means.” “Um...” I debated over how to answer him. I mean I would love to go over to his place to possibly have a romantic dinner and make out. But what if all he wanted me to do was look over the papers? I had no doubt that there was no way I would be able to decipher the things he couldn’t. But what if that was just a ploy to get me over there? “I guess...” I paused again. I was meant to be making headway with my book. I had promised Blake an update and knew that my first draft was due really soon. And the great part was that I actually had some good ideas and a plot that was halfway decent. “I have wine.” Stephen smiled winningly at me. “Sure, what time?” How could I resist those big brown eyes that promised

me they could make me forget about Blake? “Come over around 9. Don’t eat. I’ll order in some Chinese.” “Okay, sweet.” That gave me a good couple of hours to read up as much as I could on the school system and try and memorize every acronym that I could. My phone started buzzing, and I looked down to a text message from Blake. Hey, you busy tonight? Want to grab dinner? My treat! And I think we need to talk. My heart skipped a beat. It was still hard for me to stop my body’s emotional reaction to Blake. I still felt guilty and embarrassed over everything that had gone down, but I still got a buzz of electricity when he contacted me. He’d tried calling me a few times in the last week, but I had just texted him back telling him I was busy. I didn’t want to think about him too much. Every time I did, I felt like I was sinking into some sort of abyss. I had fallen in love with Blake, and every time I thought of him and Bridget, I felt jealous and sick. I had been avoiding her as well and had made sure to hit the gym at the oddest hours, just to ensure that I didn’t bump into her. How could I tell her I was in love with her boyfriend and had drunkenly and aggressively pursued him in my bed? I felt like a home-wrecker and a bad friend. Even worse was my deep wish that they would break up and I would get a real chance. But that was unlikely. The wish just made me feel like I needed to go to church, because my hopes were going to send me straight to Hell. I looked up from the text and realized that Stephen was talking about schools again, and I wondered what he would say if I suddenly started talking about last week’s episode of Desperate Housewives. Would he laugh and think I was cute like Blake did, or would he judge me and think that I was his intellectual inferior. I didn’t know if I wanted to find out. “Hmm, yeah. I totally agree,” I mumbled while vigorously nodding my head. I had no idea what he had been talking about, but Stephen was the type of guy who didn’t really care about other people’s opinions or input. It didn’t bother me really, because he was the perfect guy to help me get over Blake. Stephen required no real emotional investment from me. I guess I was objectifying him for his looks, but it didn’t make me feel too bad, as men have been doing that for years.

19 Dear Diary, Feelings are like poetry. Sometimes they make perfect sense, and sometimes they confuse the shit out of you. I’m starting to wonder if I am some sort of fickle monkey that has been put into a human body as some sort of test experiment. And if that didn’t happen, I am definitely tripolar. I’m bipolar with a twist: I have the severe ups and downs that bipolar people have, with the added bonus of simultaneously experiencing both emotions at the same time. How is it possible to both feel the happiest you have ever felt and the saddest at the same exact moment? How does that happen? I don’t quite know, but if I ever find out, I could become a millionaire. That is, if I don’t become a millionaire in Hollywood first, which it looks like won’t be happening. I texted Blake back when Stephen and I finished lunch, and he called me about 10 seconds after he got my text. There was no way I could ignore the call and pretend that I didn’t have my phone on me as I had just texted him. “Hello.” “Maggie, finally...I’ve been starting to think you’ve been avoiding me,” Blake’s voice sounded so warm and husky that I could feel my insides melting. “No, just been busy,” I spoke as coldly as I could. “Really busy huh, Moo-moo?” “Well, you know. I have the TV show now and the BOOK...” “Yes, I know. I’m guessing that the progress on the book must be going very well, seeing as you hadn’t been able to call me back. Oh wait, did something even bigger happen?” “Huh?” Blake started chortling, “Did the CIA recruit you? Is that why...” “William Blake Connor, if I was with you right now, I would slap you.” I laughed. I was never going to live down the fact that I had thought the CIA wanted to recruit me. “Well, that slap can be arranged if you agree to meet up with me.” “I can’t tonight. I have a date.” “A date? With who?” “Well, not really a date, but sort of a working dinner, with Stephen. At his

house.” “A working dinner? What work can you do from his home? You know you already have the job, right, Mags? No need for the casting couch!” Blake sounded irritated. “Blake!” “Okay, okay. But really, Mags, what work are you doing at his home? Are you getting paid extra?” “We are just going over some things, and no I am not getting paid. We are just getting to know each other better.” “Do you like him?” Blake’s voice had completely lost its friendly tone and seemed pointed. “Well, he is cute.” “Maggie, I think this is a mistake. Are you even over Ben?” “Who?” “Maggie! I know how hurt you were over Gayle and Ben getting together, and I know that you are a good person and are putting on a good front, but you need to heal before you start dating again.” “Say what?” Did he really think I was hung up on Ben Bonkers? “Maybe I can come over tonight and be a listening ear for you.” “I already told you. I’m busy tonight, Blake.” “Are you going to be there all night? I will come over afterwards.” “That’s okay. I’m really...” “I insist, Maggie. I owe it to Chad to keep an eye on you. I want to make sure you make it home safely tonight. I’m not so sure Stephen is a guy to get involved with.” “I don’t need you watching over me, Blake. I’m old enough to make my own decisions.” I was irritated. Here I was lusting over Blake, and he saw me as some sort of emotionally needy little sister. “You may be old enough, but I still...hold on a sec, someone just came into my office...look, Mags, I gotta go. Bridget needs to talk to me. I will see you tonight. Call me when you get in.” And then he hung up. I was left staring at the phone in frustration, anger, and jealousy. Why couldn’t Blake and Bridget just leave me alone and let me move on with my new life as a Hollywood starlet, living life vicariously through my movie roles and sleeping with my hot directors and costars? I arrived at Stephen’s at 9:10 p.m. Well, if I am more accurate, I arrived at 8:30 but stayed in my car until 9:10 p.m. I didn’t want to look overly eager. I looked

over my cheat sheet really quickly and tried to remember as many facts as I could about the school board and some of the more recent local school district stories from the LA Times. It seemed to me that the parts I found the most interesting and engaging were the more personal stories. That was also what I loved most about working at We Love to Read. The actual students whose reading and writing skills improved week after week, the joy in their faces, the pride, the achievement. That was something concrete that made me happy. Something that made me want to write. The numbers and data that I had read in most of the articles were boring to me and didn’t give me any personal connection to the stories. I wanted to tell Stephen some ideas I had on how to reach out to the community as a whole in our show, well, his show, but wasn’t sure how he would react. I rang the doorbell with butterflies in my stomach. I had shaved my legs especially for tonight and put on sexy underwear and my favorite perfume, ‘Princess’ by Vera Wang. It would serve Blake right if he didn’t get a phone call from me because I was spending the night at Stephen’s. That would show him. Let him go and give Bridget some advice on how to be a grown up. “Hey, Maggie, come on in.” Stephen answered the door with his cell phone in his hand. “I’m just on the phone. Feel free to have a seat.” He waved his arm towards the doorway on his left and wandered off. I looked around his house. It was stark white and pristine. A little off-putting and too modern for me. There were lots of huge abstract sculptures, and I felt like I was in a museum, and one that I wouldn’t frequent often at that. As I walked through the doorway to what I presumed was the living room, I gasped. There was a gigantic painting directly facing the entryway of what was clearly a woman’s vagina. I didn’t know whether to laugh or not, but I had a feeling that was not the feeling the painting was supposed to elicit. I groaned when I realized how minimalistic the living room was. The chairs were very close to the floor and looked very hard, with no comfortable cushions to cuddle against. The room looked like it was going for a Japanese Zen-like feel but had failed in all areas except for the not being comfortable part. I definitely could not see myself snuggling up next to Stephen and making out anywhere in this room. I also noticed that there didn’t appear to be a television. I guessed there would be no TV breaks or laughing over old episodes of ‘King of Queens’. Inwardly, I groaned. This was not going to be the warm cozy evening I had been picturing in my head. “Hey, Maggie, sorry about that. Have a seat. The food should be here soon.” Stephen came over and gave me a quick hug and led me over to the break my back chair. Lowering myself down to the chair was only marginally more

embarrassing than deciding how to sit on the chair. I couldn’t really lean back, but sitting forward wasn’t very comfortable either. I decided to just go ahead and sit on the floor and lean against the chair. Unfortunately for me, cold marble doesn’t make for a very comfortable sitting piece either. “So, Maggie. I am really excited to get your insight into these papers,” Stephen got down to business immediately as he sat down on the chair. “Oh, me too.” I groaned inside again. “Me too.” “I figure we can talk about the show for a bit and then eat and then go over the paperwork after we eat. Don’t want to spill anything on the papers now, do we?” He laughed. I just smiled and nodded my head. Why did I waste my perfume on this night? It didn’t seem to me that there was going to be any chance of us being close enough for him to appreciate the flowery scent between my bosoms. “So Blake told you the concept, right? We want to expose what is really going on in Los Angeles schools and basically you are going to break down the facts for concerned citizens. You speak Spanish, right?” “Spanish? Huh?” I looked at him puzzled. “Many of the parents speak Spanish as a first language, so I was thinking it would be cool if you were to do a bilingual show, really show we are reaching out to the community.” “Oh, well, I’m not really fluent in Spanish.” (Unless knowing hola and coma estas was considered being fluent). “Oh, I thought Blake told me that you were,” Stephen looked disappointed. I could see my Hollywood career going down the drain before my eyes. “Sorry, I mean, I guess I could learn...get a Rosetta Stone CD set if need be...” I wanted to add if you will pay for the set, but didn’t want him to think I was using him for free stuff. “No, that’s fine. We can just have Spanish subtitles. That may even be cooler.” “Oh okay.” How would that be cooler? “So, what I want you to do tomorrow is to create some PowerPoint presentations and simplify them for our viewers and...” HUH? “Sorry, what? PowerPoint?” I smiled at Stephen while trying to hide the dismay in my voice. “Yes, I will give you the documents that I got and you can extract the most pertinent information and...” “Extract?” I said under my breath. “And then create some cool interactive bar charts and graphs...” “Graphs?”

“Yeah, you know. Something that makes parents sit forward and say ‘wow’.” “Wow,” I repeated after him as if in a trance. I had a feeling that any parents watching the TV show would be feeling like I did making the charts. And that feeling wasn’t going to elicit any ‘wow’s. “Exactly, we want the wow factor.” He grinned at me. “I’m so glad that Blake suggested you for this hosting position. I think you are going to be great.” I smiled weakly at him. This was not sounding like the position I had been envisioning. I thought I was going to be interviewing some cute kids at different schools and asking them about reading and spending time reading to them, even possibly from my own book, nothing like a bit of free publicity. But this job was starting to sound like I was to be some sort of administrative assistant. And the even more messed up part of the equation was that it wasn’t even a job. I wasn’t getting paid. Or at least not monetarily. Stephen had told me that the exposure I would receive on TV would be so beneficial to my career that it would more than make up for any pittance he could pay me. I’d had doubts that I would receive any real exposure on public access TV but figured that it wouldn’t seem like work if I was hanging out with kids and helping my own writing process. Also, Stephen himself had definitely sweetened the pot with his good looks. But this was starting to sound like it was going to be a lot of grunt work. And to be honest, not the sort of grunt work that I was particularly interested in either. “Yeah, sounds exciting for sure. Um, how often will I be interviewing the kids?” “Well, I’m not really sure if you will be interviewing any kids...” “What?” “There’s a lot of red tape in public schools, and you know principals aren’t going to really want us coming into the schools when they realize we are doing an exposé on them.” My mouth dropped open. “Exposé?” This was not sounding like something I could even legally be involved in, or at least not if I wanted to keep my day job, the one that was actually paying my bills. I still had to go to these schools every week for my ‘We Love to Read’ school visits. “Yeah, this is going to blow the public school system apart,” Stephen said excitedly. “What exactly is the information that you have?” I swallowed, scared to hear but wanting to know. What if the information compromised my job and I had to become an informant? I’d never work in the educational nonprofit sector in Los Angeles again. “Well, I don’t really know yet,” Stephen looked at me sheepishly, “that’s

what you are here to find out.” “Me?” I looked at him puzzled. “Yeah, when we go through the files that were sent to me, from my contact at the L.A. Times.” “Oh okay,” I seriously doubted that I was going to be able to decipher any codes in the paperwork that would lead to an exposé that would take down the whole public school system but figured that if I could, then the system deserved to be brought down. “This is going to be awesome. People are going to look at me as the more intellectual Michael Moore.” “Yeah, I guess so.” It struck me that if anyone was going to be looked at as the more intellectual Michael Moore it should be me, seeing as I was the one who was going to be responsible for finding the earth-shattering news that would scandalize the LA school system, but I decided to keep that thought to myself. The doorbell rang at that point, and Stephen went to go and get the food. My stomach growled in anticipation. I was excited to eat some sweet and sour pork and fried rice. It might make me a little sleepy, but would definitely put me in a better mood. Greasy food always did. As Stephen walked back with the big brown bag containing the delicious food, I could feel my mood improving. He put the bag on the glass table in front of me and went to get some plates. “You can start opening the boxes if you want. I’ll go get us some utensils.” I eagerly started opening up the boxes to see what goodies he had gotten for the night. My excitement quickly turned to disappointment. What was this crap? Stephen had ordered brown rice, some sort of vegetable stir-fry, and a tofu dish. I wanted to cry. This was not going as planned at all. Stephen walked back into the room with the plates and took a deep breath. “Ooh, doesn’t this smell delicious?” “Sooo delicious,” I lied. I decided that I would make Blake bring me some real food when he came over; it was the least he could do. I helped myself to the smallest serving of each dish and pretended to ooh and ahh over every bite. “It’s sooo good, isn’t it?” Stephen grinned at me as he helped himself to more brown rice. “Want some more?” He was handing me the box. “Oh, no thanks. Gotta watch what I eat,” I said sarcastically. “Oh, I know. This stuff is so good but I only get it once every few months. It’s so bad for you!” I looked up at him, ready to join the laughter I was sure was going to come after that comment. But he looked so earnest that I realized he was serious. “Ha, yeah. I definitely don’t treat myself like this everyday.” Thank God.

“Maggie, you really are something special.” I looked up to see Stephen smiling down at me, his lips glistening with oil from the stir fry. He really was such a good-looking man. “Thanks, Stephen, you’re pretty special yourself.” The meal was over pretty quickly, and Stephen immediately cleared up the mess and took the food to the kitchen to package and put away in the fridge. I was impressed by his due diligence and realized that I would have to do a thorough cleaning of my place before I ever had him over. I also noted that I would likely be spending a lot of time in this austere museum house of his if we ever dated because there was no way that I would have time to clean my place every day in preparation for his coming over. I was pretty sure he wouldn’t be impressed by all the half-eaten takeout boxes in my fridge. “So, let me hand you the file that my contact at the LA Times gave me and you can start going through it and jotting everything down you think looks out of the ordinary.” “Sure.” I really wanted to ask him who his contact was. He kept mentioning it and I was curious to know whether or not it was the EIC himself. I mean, that would be kind of incredible. I could be in on some sort of Watergate project here. There might be movies made of this night, and I would get to choose which actress would play me. My name would be in history books for people to read about for years to come. Maybe Vera Wang would pay me some sort of royalties if I made sure to include the fact that I wore her perfume on this night. I eagerly reached for the file that he handed me and was surprised at how small it was, only about 20 pages thick. The contact must have made sure to send only the pertinent information. Boy was I in luck, this wasn’t going to take long at all. I eagerly pulled out the papers and got a pen and pad ready to note down anything I thought looked unusual. It took me about 10 minutes to go through the papers thoroughly. “Hey, Stephen,” I called out to him, “I think you may have given me the wrong file.” “What?” he walked back into the room with a glass of wine. I noted that he had not offered me any. What was I, the secretary who wasn’t allowed to drink on the job? “I think that perhaps you gave me the wrong file.” He looked at me confused. “No, no, that’s the file.” “Oh.” “So, you find anything as yet?” “Um, well, no, not really,” I paused. “Who exactly is your contact at the LA Times?”

“Well, I promised him I wouldn’t tell anyone, you know. He could lose his job.” “Yeah, I understand that. I was just curious. I won’t tell anyone.” “Okay. I guess it won’t hurt to tell you. His name is Jose Vargas.” “Jose Vargas?” I had never heard of him before, and I had just looked through the entire list of editors and reporters listed on their site hours before. “Yeah, Jose Vargas.” “So, uh, what role does Jose have at the paper? If you don’t mind me asking.” “He’s a janitor.” “A ... a ... janitor?” Was this a joke? “Yeah. He was cleaning out some trash cans from some of the offices a few weeks back and thought that these papers might be helpful.” “Helpful?” I said weakly looking down at the papers. “Yeah. He said all the numbers had to mean something. And he knows that some of the reporters are working on a big story about the education system.” “Really? He knows this how exactly?” “He overheard a conversation, but anyways, that doesn’t matter now. We have our own story to work on. This could make us famous.” Stephen flashed a brilliant white smile at me, only I didn’t react the way I would have a week before. My stomach didn’t jump with excitement; I didn’t see myself in magazines; I just felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. “Uh, yeah. Famous, for sure.” Famous for being dumb, I thought to myself. “So, see any patterns yet? Who’s going down?” Stephen asked eagerly. “ Um, not sure yet. I need to study it a bit longer.” “Oh okay.” Stephen smiled down at me admiringly. He was looking at me like I was some sort of Einstein about to solve the greatest problems in Physics. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that there was nothing to be found in the papers he had given me, unless he wanted to know who ordered what at McDonald’s during the last lunch order. “Can you still concentrate if I put some music on?” Stephen looked at me inquiringly. “Sure,” I said, “that would be fine.” I was a little surprised to hear Marvin Gaye crooning at me from the corners of the room, but it did help to relax me and relieve my boredom from pretending to study the numbers on the pages. I looked down at my phone and realized that Blake had texted me to remind me to call him when I was done. I groaned. What was his problem? Didn’t he have a girlfriend he should be more concerned with? It annoyed me that he was treating me like an irresponsible little sister. I sighed.

“Everything okay, Maggie?” The eager look on Stephen’s face was almost too much to take. He really thought that I was going to find something here. Or did he? I nearly fainted when I felt his hands on my shoulders, massaging me. “I’ve often found that it helps people concentrate and relax more when they are getting a massage,” he whispered in my ear as he continued to knead my shoulders. Whoa! Was he trying to get me into bed? Had this been a ploy the whole time? I laughed. Thank God! I knew no one could be that stupid. This had been Stephen’s way of getting me over to his house so he could seduce me. I was a little annoyed, but flattered at the same time. “Oh yes, it is very relaxing.” I leaned back and closed my eyes, tilting my face up a bit for the inevitable kiss. “What are you doing?” Stephen looked at me weirdly. “Don’t let me stop you from concentrating.” He stopped massaging me and looked anxious. I looked back at him in confusion. Shit! He wasn’t trying to seduce me. He really thought I would find something here. “Stephen, you do realize that these are photocopies of lunch receipts from McDonald’s, right?” “Of course. I was hoping you could figure out the code.” He looked at me like I was the dumb one. “The code...” I spoke weakly. “Yes, obviously there is a code here hiding what the money was really being spent on.” “The money?” Why would anyone care about coding where 100 dollars was going each week?” “Yes, I mean, let’s be realistic. No one is eating McDonald’s every day.” “Yeah, I guess not.” I didn’t bother telling him that I had gone for weeks eating McDonald’s every day. That that was likely the reason why I had to go to the gym and had a wardrobe full of ugly clothes. “But, uh, why do you think I can work out the code?” I know that I had thought the CIA was interested in me, but that was because I knew how easily I solved murder mystery novels and thriller movies. I always figured out who the murderer was before the main characters did and was right about 50 percent of the time. However, I hadn’t really shown any of those skills to Stephen, so I wasn’t really sure why he thought I could help. “Because Blake told me how bright you are. That you have a brain that works like no other. Frankly, that’s why you got the TV host job; I figured I could use you as a researcher and investigator as well.” I grew warm inside at the thought that Blake had talked so nicely about me

and softened a little in my attitude towards him. It wasn’t his fault that I had fallen for him while he had a girlfriend. “Well, yes, I am smart.” It felt good being able to say it aloud and not cringe. It was true, and I wasn’t going to shy away from being positive about myself anymore. “But I don’t think there’s a code here, Stephen. I think what we see here is what we get.” “Oh.” I felt bad that he looked so disappointed. “I mean, there may be something else going on with the Department of Education that is shady, but it is not concealed in these documents; although, we do have an angle for a show...I think.” I paused as something came into my mind. “Really? What?” Stephen looked excited. “Well, I think we could do something about lunchtime—” “Lunchtime?” He looked disappointed. “No, listen to me.” I looked up at him. “The Department of Education recently revamped a bunch of cafeterias, and they proposed some new rules for what can be served during lunchtimes. I read an article about it today.” “So? That’s good.” “Yes, ideally that is good. But here’s the thing, the new programs have corporate sponsors. And there has been a lot of controversy over one of the sponsors providing healthy meals...” I paused, waiting for him to ask me who the sponsor was, but he just looked at me with a blank face. “That sponsor is McDonald’s! How ironic is it that McDonald’s is sponsoring the new healthy lunch program in schools?” “McDonald’s isn’t healthy.” “Exactly. And another thing is that there is one thing wrong with these receipts. All the meals have huge discounts. A Big Mac value meal is no way 3 dollars. It seems as if McDonald’s is bribing the DOE to get into schools and brainwash kids.” “Oh wow.” Stephen looked excited again, well, excited and a bit clueless still. “We can do a special trying to figure out exactly what is going on with these sponsorships and the school board.” “We can call it ‘Fast Food Schools’.” Stephen grinned, “Take that, Michael Moore.” I smiled at Stephen weakly. I was pretty sure he was referencing ‘Fast Food Nation’, and I was pretty sure that Michael Moore hadn’t made that movie, but I decided to keep my mouth shut. “You rock, Maggie.” Stephen leaned over and gave me a big kiss that felt

warm and a little moist, but I kissed back to see if it would get better. I didn’t feel much when he pushed his tongue into my mouth, but a birdy inside of me was happy that he was obviously interested in me, so I let it continue. It was when his hand went down my back and seemed to be fumbling over my bra strap that I decided to pull away. I definitely wasn’t willing at this point to go all the way with Stephen, no matter how bad I wanted to show Blake that I too had someone. “Sorry, Maggie. I got a little carried away. I’m just so excited right now.” “It’s okay. So am I.” I had a feeling that both of us were referencing the TV special we had been talking about and not the feelings in our loins. “You know, Maggie, Blake was really right. You are truly something special.” And with that, Stephen leaned in and kissed me again. I felt my heart lurch a little as I kissed him back as passionately as I could. It seemed as if everything were finally coming together for me; work, confidence, love. Yet, as I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the wet glob trickling down my chin, it was Blake’s smiling face that I saw in my mind. But I had to forget him. I wasn’t going to be that girl that slept with another woman’s man.

20 Dear Diary, Blake sucks. That is all I have to say. I am so mad right now I could kill him. And his pretentious, bossy-boots, all-knowing self. I left Stephen’s at about midnight. Not because we made out all night though (I wasn’t drunk enough to pretend to enjoy his juicy, wet kisses). We ended up watching a movie, or really I should say a documentary. What is it about documentaries that can bore the bejesus out of you? It makes me feel bad to admit it, seeing as I may soon be making my own foray into the genre, but most documentaries suck. Perhaps I feel that way because I am a Philistine. I just don’t get it. So many times people have said to me, “Oh, did you see so-and-so? It was sooo good.” And I think to myself, “Well, no, I didn’t see it because it is a documentary, and they usually suck.” And then I decide to watch it because of the recommendation. And then I waste my 4 dollars and rent it and fall asleep after about 5 minutes. Or I just change the channel and watch ‘Law and Order: SVU’ because that show is usually playing on at least one channel, no matter what time of day. Unfortunately for me tonight, there was no way for me to change the channel after 5 or 10 minutes. Stephen was engrossed in the tale of corporate greed in pet stores. He decided he wanted to do an exposé on Petsmart after the education piece, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I couldn’t get involved in that one; Petsmart had been very good to me over the years. Lucy had destroyed so many toys and had so many accidents in the store that I felt as if I were indebted to them for life. I sighed with relief when it ended and I got up to go. Stephen kept trying to convince me to stay the night, but I reminded him that I was meeting up with Blake and had to go home and walk Lucy. “You are going to make me jealous if you keep rushing off to meet other men like this,” Stephen pouted at me. It wasn’t his most attractive look, and I was slightly annoyed. I had barely known him a few weeks, and this was only the first time we had even kissed. “Don’t be jealous.” I smiled up at him coyly. I didn’t really have any other options and so decided to brush off my irritation. As I stared at him, I softened

up a little bit. He really was good looking and well, he was going to make me a star. And Blake didn’t seem to like him that much. “Tell Blake I said hi, and that I will see him next week.” “Oh?” I always seemed to forget that Blake and Stephen knew each other outside of me. “Yeah, he says he needs to talk to me about some stuff, legal stuff.” “Oh, okay.” “You’d better go now, before I don’t let you go.” Stephen pushed me towards the door, but not before I saw the screen of his phone ringing with a call from someone named Gloria. I was too annoyed at his pushing me to ask him who Gloria was and decided to just let it slide. No point arguing with my director before I had even starred in one episode of the show; plus, I truly was interested in doing the exposé on the McDonald’s sponsorship of schools. “Before I go, Blake said he had mentioned to you that I was writing a children’s book...do you think it would be possible for us to do an episode with me reading to the kids?” Stephen looked at me distractedly. “Yeah, yeah, let’s talk about it next week.” He gave me a brief kiss on the cheek and turned away from me. “Hey, you can let yourself out. Yeah, I’ve got something to tend to.” And with that, he left me by the front door and went running through to the living room. He really was a strange guy. I really wasn’t feeling him very much, but he seemed to be the best way to get over Blake. At least, that was what I had to keep telling myself. I let myself out and called Blake. “There you are...finally,” Blake drawled through the phone, his voice sounding husky and firm. “I never told you I would be done early,” I said defensively. “If it’s too late, you do not need to come over, you know.” “No, it’s not too late, Moo-moo.” Blake laughed. Argh. How irritating men could be. “Well, I will be home in about 30 minutes.” “Okay, see you then.” “Oh, and Blake...” “Yeah?” “Bring a pizza.” And with that I hung up. My stomach was growling, and I was irritated. I looked at my reflection in my rearview mirror and groaned. My hair was all messed up, and my lips looked full. I had to stop myself from making retching noises when I noticed the dry saliva under my lower lip. “Gross,” I mumbled to myself under my breath. Stephen might be cute but

he sure couldn’t kiss well. Not like Blake could. I groaned. I could not allow myself to think about kissing Blake right now. Or ever. I decided to send a text message to Bridget; maybe if I kept myself in contact with her more, I would feel more guilt every time I thought about Blake. Hope you are well - let’s meet up soon. And then I started my car, hoping to make it back to my house before Blake arrived so I could tidy up a little bit. Of course Blake was there waiting at my door when I got home. He was nothing if he wasn’t punctual. I debated inside my head whether or not I could ask him to wait outside for about 10 minutes while I cleaned up my place. I came to the conclusion that that would be a bit rude and it was unlikely that I could get it looking much cleaner and tidier in anything under 30 minutes. “Hey there, superstar.” Blake smiled at me; his eyes seemed to be laughing at me. I wondered if he knew that I practiced my Oscar acceptance speech every night before bed when I brushed my teeth. “Blake,” I tried to sound cool, calm and collected and hoped that he couldn’t tell how flustered I was. He looked so tall and handsome standing there, and he reminded me of home and warmth. I just wanted to snuggle up to him on the couch while he stroked my hair and whispered sweet nothings in my ear. It would also be a plus if he was feeding me Salted Caramel Talenti ice cream. “So how was it?” He looked at me intently. “How was what?” I was annoyed. Not because of the question, but because I could feel my insides tingling at the look he was giving me. Argh. I hoped I wasn’t blushing. I opened the door and was glad that Lucy frantically ran to the door to greet me. “Your meeting with Stephen? Did it go well?” “It was fine,” I mumbled as I stroked Lucy and pliantly accepted her wet licks. It was quite sad to realize that Lucy left less saliva than Stephen had. “Whoa.” I turned around to look at Blake. “Whoa what?” “Whoa this bomb site, what happened?” I glared at Blake before turning around to survey my living room. Shit! It did look like the aftermath of a tornado. There were clothes lying all over the floor and couch, magazine papers were ripped up (thanks to Lucy), and there were dirty dishes and plates stacked on the side tables. “I’ve been busy,” I said defensively while writhing inside with

embarrassment. I was definitely going to make sure that I tidied up my apartment every other day now. Well hopefully. “Very busy, I’m guessing.” Blake’s voice was muffled. I turned around to look at him and saw him stifling a laugh. “Ass.” I hit him on the arm. “Messy.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me to him, attempting to tickle me. “Stop, argh, stop!” I laughed, trying to wrench myself away from him. “Stop, ha-ha-ha!” I broke down onto the floor laughing uncontrollably. I was super ticklish and couldn’t stop my body’s reaction. Blake pulled me up off of the floor and pulled me to him for a second. My heart beat quickly. Was he going to kiss me? He brought his hand up and twisted my nose and let me go. “Let me help myself to a drink while you attempt to tidy the couch up a little bit, Maggie Moo.” Argh, it infuriated me that he treated me like a younger sister. “Yes, Pops,” I whispered under my breath. “What was that?” “Nothing. Go get your drink and while you are at it, pour me a big glass of chocolate milk, please.” “Sure thing...daughter.” I threw one of my throw pillows at him and he laughed his way into the kitchen. I grabbed up as many clothes as I could fit into my arms and groaned at the sight of a couple of bras that were on the couch. Blake must really think I didn’t have it together. I ran back and forth quickly, dumping the clothes on my bed; I would have to sort through them in the morning to see which ones were clean and which ones were dirty. “Wow, it is looking clean already. I’ll have to remember to hire you if I ever need a big clean-up job.” “Yeah. If you want to pay me 100 an hour.” “What are you going to do for the 100?” “Clean!” “More like make more of a mess.” “Ass.” “Is that my new name?” “It is when you act like one.” “I’ll have to let the judge know that next time I’m in court. I’m sure opposing counsel will be happy to know that someone outside of the courtroom agrees with them.” “I would be happy to come in and tell the court.” I grinned at Blake as my

stomach grumbled. “Oh yeah, where’s my pizza?” “You were serious about the pizza? Didn’t Stephen feed you?” “He did, but it was gross. I need real food.” “Oh, Maggie. When I am around you, I can’t help but laugh. I’ll order one now.” “Yay! Ham and onions, please.” Once I was sure Blake had the order right, I went into the bedroom and changed into my PJs so I could get comfy. If Blake wanted to come over so late at night, he could take me as I wanted to be. I made sure to brush my hair and add some lip gloss to my lips before I went back out into the living room though. “It’ll be here in 30 minutes.” Blake looked up from the couch. Lucy was in his lap, and he was stroking the spot right between her ears. She looked like she was in heaven, and I was slightly envious of her at that moment. It was a struggle for me to not lean my head against his shoulder when I sat down next to him on the couch. I felt like there was some sort of magnetic force drawing me towards him, and all I wanted to do was touch him and be connected to him in some way. “Come here.” He said and he tried to grab my hand, but I just pulled away. I couldn’t get carried away with him again. “So how are things, Mags?” He looked over at me seriously, with real care in his voice. “Are you doing okay?” “I’m fine, Blake.” “I just wanted to make sure that you were doing okay. It had to be a shock.” “Yeah, I mean it was a shock at the time, but now I’m over it.” I smiled up at him. “Wow, that was quick.” “I mean, it wasn’t that quick, but I was never actually in a relationship with Ben, so I couldn’t get too upset.” “You are such a great girl, Mags. I don’t know if I would have been that cool if it had been someone I loved that had gotten engaged.” “I didn’t love...wait, what? ENGAGED? They got engaged? What!” I screeched. I couldn’t believe it. “Gayle and Ben are engaged?” I jumped up off of the couch. “Wait, you didn’t know?” Blake looked like he wanted to slap himself. “Do I sound like someone who knew?” I paced up and down. “I cannot believe this.” “I’m sorry, Mags. I thought you knew.”

“Why didn’t she tell me? What is going on with Gayle?” I shouted. Lucy looked up at me from Blake’s lap with disapproving eyes. I was interrupting her sleep. “Is there anything I can do, Mags?” I could see Blake grappling with the decision of whether or not he should get up off the couch or not. He was attempting to shove Lucy off of him, but she wasn’t moving an inch. “I’m not mad because she’s engaged. I’m mad because she didn’t tell me! When did you find out?” “Well, she called me this morning. She said that she was worried about you. Said she had tried calling you, but you hadn’t been responding.” I stopped pacing and bit my lip. It was true. I had been really bad at returning calls lately, between writing my book and working with Stephen. I had been caught up in my own life. Plus, I had been worried that she was calling to talk to me about the marathon. I was still in no shape to compete and hadn’t wanted to deal with her asking me why I hadn’t been to the gym in a long time. “Mags?” Blake looked at me with concern. If I didn’t know better, I would think that he had really strong feelings for me, but I knew it was just because he saw me as a little sister. “It’s okay, Blake. I think it may be my fault that she hasn’t told me yet.” I sat back down next to him and looked at him, trying not to stare at his manly chest. “I’ve been a bit preoccupied lately.” “I’ve noticed.” “Yeah, sorry.” “So, you sure you aren’t still hung up on Ben?” “Would someone who was hung up on Ben have kissed Stephen tonight?” I retorted, not knowing why I was telling him that. “What? You kissed Stephen?” He looked pissed off as he studied my face. “Well, he kissed me. And it was great.” Okay, so that was a lie, but he didn’t have to know. “Was that wise, Maggie?” Blake frowned at me. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to be making out with your boss.” “Why not?” Say you love me! “Well, Stephen is opening himself up for sexual harassment claims, and as his attorney, I do not think that is a smart idea.” “What?” “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, Maggie. He isn’t the right guy for you.” “How would you know?” Say that you know because you are the right one. “Because Stephen is used to glamorous Hollywood types. He has high expectations.”

“Excuse me?” I was offended and mad. “I don’t mean that that you couldn't meet those expectations, Mags, but I just don’t think you would fit in those circles.” “Really, Blake? Why, thanks a lot.” My voice started to rise. Lucy groaned with exasperation and jumped off of Blake’s lap and walked into the bedroom. Great, now I would have to wash all of the clothes. I knew exactly what she was going to do: jump into the bed and roll around over everything. Sigh… “Maggie, I just don’t think you should get involved with him. You need to concentrate on other things in your life.” He sounded angry. “I’m starting to think it was a bad idea to be your boyfriend coach.” I glared at him and hoped to God that he wasn’t going to mention the marathon. “How is your book coming along anyways, Maggie?” Groan. “It’s coming.” “Ready for my agent friend to see it?” He raised an eyebrow. I wished I could wipe the smug look off of his face. “Very nearly.” “Really?” “Yes. And Stephen tells me we can dedicate an episode of our show to it as well.” Well, he hadn’t exactly said that, but I was sure he wouldn’t mind. “Wow, really. A whole episode?” He smiled. I knew what he was thinking, no one was going to be watching public access TV except for perhaps me and 10 other people. And honestly, I would be changing the channel after my own show had come on. “We are doing an exposé on the school board as well.” “The school board?” “I mean the school district?” “Which school district?” “I mean the Department of Education.” “The whole department, or anyone in particular?” “I can’t tell you, but Michael Moore is collaborating with us on the project.” The lie slipped out of my mouth, and I was about to retract it when the doorbell rang. .Chapter 22 Dear Diary, I am in a relationship. I am in a relationship. I want to sing it from the trees

and let all of my friends now, well really all of my enemies and all of the women at the gym who look at me like a fat-ass. Take that, bitches! Okay, that was rude. They haven’t done anything to me, but I just want to shove it in their faces. But I guess I should wait until I am engaged. Just kinda dating someone doesn’t call for anything too extreme as yet. And I’m not really dating the one I love, but many people settle for the guy who loves them. I think that is actually in the Bible, “Marry the one who loves you more than you love them.” Actually, I don’t know if that is in the Bible or ‘The Book of Rules for Women’, but whatever. And actually I don’t know if Stephen loves me at all. But it’s still early on. We’ve only been officially dating for 2 days. Even though I don’t really like him like that. I mean who really wants to be in a relationship with McSalivaman? Blake and I ate the pizza in silence. I was really offended by his conversation and actually really hurt. Did he not think I was good enough for Stephen or him? There was something in me that was deeply wounded. I could feel the pain traveling through my body, making me tense up. I had to avoid his eyes, because I didn’t want him to see the very real hurt in my eyes or the wetness of my pupils. I was almost ready to cry. That feeling of not being good enough was hard to shake, and losing some weight hadn’t made me feel any more comfortable in my body than I was before. I mean, I felt more attractive in a way, but with that feeling hadn’t come the feeling of confidence and belonging that I had expected. And it hadn’t brought me my true love or Bradley Cooper. Perhaps I was not destined to have a true love; perhaps fairy tales didn’t exist. I mean if they did, I would be lying in Blake’s arms right now instead of tensely ignoring him and yawning as hard as I could to force him into leaving. “Maggie, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just don’t think that Stephen is a good guy for you.” “Whatever, Blake. It doesn’t matter what you think. Why don’t you spend more time thinking about the one you love instead of getting in my business?” Blake looked at me harshly. “This has nothing to do with how I feel, Maggie. This has to do with you being an adult and dealing with your emotions properly and thoughtfully.” “What?” “You cannot jump from man to man, from bed to bed...” “What? Bed to bed?” I was offended again. “It seems to me that you were so upset about Ben that you were willing to jump into bed with me pretty easily.”

“Blake, you slept over because you sent the cab away, and we didn’t even have sex.” “Are you sure, Maggie?” He raised an eyebrow at me. “Even if we did have sex, Blake, whose fault would it really be? I think if anyone would be coming off badly in that situation, it would be you!” Take that, sucker. He sighed. “I know, Maggie, and no, we didn’t, but you seemed willing. And now here you are with Stephen. You are trying to mask your pain over Ben with another guy. You need to get over him first.” “Blake, can I ask you a question?” “Sure?” “When did you get your degree in psychology? I didn’t know they offered those classes in law school.” “Maggie, I’m just trying to...” “Blake, you are not my brother. Or my father. Just because you think you are, doesn’t mean it’s true. You have no idea what you’re talking about.” I don’t love Ben, I love you, you idiot. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt, Maggie.” He reached over and rubbed my shoulder. “Blake, who...” “You mean so much to me, Maggie. I just want to make sure you are happy.” He pulled me close to him and stroked my hair. What was he doing to me? I snuggled into his shoulder and sighed, thinking I might as well breathe in his scent while I had the opportunity. Beep-beep went my phone. Of course. I looked down and saw that I had 2 text messages. One was from Bridget, and the other was from Stephen. Bridget wanted to grab lunch with me the next week, and Stephen was wishing me sweet dreams. It seemed like a sign to me; I guessed it was true what Sister Mary said in ‘The Sound of Music’ - “When one door closes, another one opens.” I inched myself away from Blake. The guilt was coursing through me. Why was I snuggling up to another woman's boyfriend? A woman I considered a friend. “I’m tired.” I yawned sleepily. “I take it that’s my cue to leave?” “Unless you want to sleep on the couch...” Blake jumped up and ran his hand through his hair. “While that sounds delightful, I have breakfast with Bridget tomorrow morning, and so I’d better go home so I don’t show up looking like I’m doing the walk of shame in the morning.”

“Yeah. She wouldn’t like that.” I smiled brightly at him to mask the fact that my stomach had dropped. “Night, Mags.” He reached over and kissed me on the forehead and walked to the door. “Night, Blake.”

* * * I woke up the next morning with a new resolve to forget Blake. It was obvious to me that he saw me as a little sister and that he and Bridget were happy with their relationship the way it was. I was also annoyed that he seemed to think he could dictate my life and tell me what to do. I was at Coffee Bean drinking a chai latte and writing my book when Stephen called and asked me what I was doing for dinner. I was worried that he was going to tell me that Jose had found more receipts, but he didn’t mention work. I readily accepted and told him that I would meet him at the restaurant at 8 p.m. Anything to get my mind off Blake. I decided to call Gayle to see if she wanted to grab lunch and that way I could let her tell me about the engagement herself and she could help me choose a dress for tonight. Gayle was excited to hear from me and we made plans to meet at Beto’s for a late lunch. “Maggie, look at you!” Gayle squeezed me close when I arrived at the restaurant. “Hey,” I beamed. Gayle looked really happy and I was also pleased that she had noticed that I had lost weight. “You look great. Really, really great.” “Thanks. So do you.” I was taken aback at how she had changed. She seemed so relaxed now. So different from the bossy boots she had been just months ago. “Being engaged suits you.” “You know?” She gasped with surprise. “Oops. Sorry, yes. Blake told me last night, but I wanted to wait for you to tell me,” I grimaced. Gayle laughed. “Is it okay? You aren’t mad, are you?” I hit her in the upper arm. “I’m sooo upset, Gayle. How could you do that to me?” I faked a sad face. “Oh, Maggie. I’m so sorry. I...” “I’m joking. I’m joking!” “Oh, okay. Phew!” She grinned. “I was worried you were still mad at me

when you didn’t return any of my million phone calls.” “Sorry, I’ve been busy.” “So I’ve heard.” “Hmm?” “From Blake.” “Oh. Yeah. I got a new side job.” “I know, superstar. Congrats!” “Thanks.” I felt a bit deflated that she knew already, but I suppose it was my own fault for not having updated her when it had initially happened. “Seems as if Blake is carrying all the news. I guess he is a carrier pigeon as well as a shrink.” “Huh?” Gayle looked confused. “Nothing.” “So, what’s going on with you and Blake?” Gayle raised her eyebrows at me. “Absolutely nothing.” I sighed. “Are you sure? You guys looked pretty close that night we all went dancing.” “I’m sure. He’s dating Bridget!” Sigh. “He is?” “He is!” “Oh.” “Yeah, I know.” “You like him though, huh?” “Yeah. I really like him.” I wanted to tell Gayle that I loved him but felt that might make me look a bit crazy. I mean how could I love him when I had never even dated him? And would she even believe that I knew this was the real deal after I had said I was in love with so many different guys before? “Oh, Maggie.” Gayle grabbed my hand. I looked down at her engagement ring and I gasped. “Whoa, that’s huge! Who knew Ben Bonkers had that kind of money?” “His family is rich, actually. His dad runs the Bonkers car dealerships in the Bay Area.” “No way.” “Yeah. I was surprised as well.” She smiled. “Okay. Let’s go shop before I get depressed again.” I grinned at her to let her know I was joking. “What are you shopping for?” “I have a date tonight!” “What! With whom?” “Stephen! The producer/director of my TV show.”

“Oh wow, is that a good idea?” “Not you, too.” “What?” “Nothing.” I sighed. “Let’s go shop.” We had a lot of fun going from store to store, and I felt like Julia Roberts in ‘Pretty Woman’ albeit without Richard Gere and thousands of dollars to spend. I tried on about 12 dresses before Gayle’s face lit up and I knew the hot red number was going to be my outfit for the night. “Let me know how it goes, Mags!” Gayle hugged me when we arrived at my car in the parking lot. “Call me first thing in the morning and tell me what happened.” “I will.” I smiled as I put my key into my car door. “Actually, why don’t we go to the gym, and you can tell me the story while we run on the treadmill? The marathon is coming up soon.” I grimaced and screwed up my nose at her. I guess Gayle hadn’t changed that much. “We’ll see. I’ll let you know in the morning.” I drove off to Gayle’s laughter and Bob Dylan playing on the radio.

* * * “You look gorgeous, Maggie.” Stephen was giving me the once-over and licking his lips. “Thanks.” Did he have to be so crass? I brushed my irritation at his liplicking out of my mind and checked him out as well. He definitely looked handsome. Really handsome. He was wearing what looked like a very expensive suit and had made reservations at Le Meur, one of the best restaurants in Los Angeles. “It’s Armani.” “Sorry, what?” “The suit, I saw you looking at it. It’s Armani. From Italy.” “Oh, okay.” “It cost 2,000 dollars.” “Oh, okay.” What was I supposed to say to that? “Maybe if you treat me right, I’ll take you there one day and buy you some clothes.” “Oh, yeah, that would be nice.” I laughed, trying to hide my irritation. Who did Stephen think he was? It seemed to me that the joy of being Julia Roberts’s

character in ‘Pretty Woman’ was only exciting to think about as a fantasy. The reality of the situation was actually quite disturbing, condescending, and belittling. Dinner was delicious and filling, and I was very content by the time dessert came around. I was deciding between an apple tart and a chocolate butterscotch cake when Stephen moved in closer to me. We had spent most of the night talking about his projects and career; well, he had spent most of the night talking. I didn’t mind, because I was satiated with good food and red wine and liked the fact that this very handsome man was giving me all of his attention. Even if he was focused on himself. “So, I really enjoyed the other night, Maggie Lane,” Stephen whispered in my ear as he caressed my leg. “Thanks, so did I.” I tried not to flinch as he licked his lips again. Seeing his saliva was giving me bad memories. “I think we make a good team.” “You do?” What was he talking about? I barely knew him, and we hadn’t really done anything together that could realistically lead him to that impression, work-wise or intimately. “Yes, I do.” I shrunk back a little as he started running his hand all the way up my thigh. I was starting to think that it had been a bad idea to wear a short red dress to dinner with this man. “I think we make a very good team. Do you want to get out of here and go back to my place for a nightcap?” “You mean after dessert?” “Oh, I had a different dessert in mind.” I nearly jumped when he attempted to slide his hand down the inside of my thigh. “Oh, ha-ha. Well we’ll see. I actually, uh, well, I actually have to go to the ladies room right now,” I stood up as elegantly as I could. “I’ll be right back.” I walked to the bathroom quickly. “Shit, shit, shit,” I mumbled to myself. Blake had been right. It had been a mistake to get involved with Stephen. Even though we weren’t really involved at this point, I wasn’t sure how to deny his advances and still keep things civil. He was really cute, and I wouldn’t mind getting to know him better, but I definitely wasn’t ready to have sex with him. When I got back to the table, I saw that Stephen had ordered a bottle of champagne and saw that the waiter was just finishing up pouring it into 2 flutes. “I took the liberty of getting some champagne for us to celebrate.” Stephen took a gulp as I sat down.

“Celebrate?” “Our new partnership. Here’s to our show, your book, and our new relationship.” “Relationship?” Huh? “You are my new main girl, Maggie Lane.” Oh shit. “Oh.” And with that, we both took huge gulps of our champagne, but for very different reasons.

21 Dear Diary, I am an idiot. A real idiot. Blake isn’t in a relationship. He never was. Bridget is not his girlfriend. Turns out he wasn’t using the term ‘partner’ to refer to Bridget using some modern-day dating terminology, but just referring to them as working professionals. Turns out they are just partners in the law firm together. I wish I could tell you how happy I was when I found out that information. But my happiness turned to despair and frustration when I thought of the new relationship I now found myself in and the fact that I had been boasting to Blake about it just days before I realized he was single. It seems to me I am just doomed to have a crappy love life forever. I was able to go home by myself after my dinner date with Stephen. He was so drunk that I was able to put him in a cab and give him a quick kiss on the cheek without him trying to ask for more. I knew when I got home that evening that I was going to have to have a talk with him. No matter how bad I wanted a relationship, and no matter how attractive he was, I knew I couldn’t be with him. Not just because I loved Blake, but because he was the most annoying, pretentious, and stupid man I had ever met. I was proud of myself for owning up to the fact that he was not good dating material and actually acknowledging the fact that I shouldn’t just date him anyways. It was unfortunate that Blake had called me right before I went to bed to ask me how the dinner had gone. “Moo-moo, I’m surprised you’re at home. Date didn’t go well?” Blake drawled in my ear. I was instantly antagonized by his words. “How did you know I was on a date?” “Stephen asked me what kind of food you liked.” “Oh, I see. Well, the date went fine actually.” “Really?” “Yes, he asked me to be his girlfriend.” Well kinda. “His girlfriend? Already? I assume you said no.” “You assume wrong,” I didn’t get a chance to say no as he just assumed I would want to date him. I didn’t tell Blake that though. “Maggie, have you thought this through properly?” Blake sounded like my father, lecturing me as a child.

“Yes, Blake. I know what I’m doing, and Stephen and I are fine. In fact, he is planning on taking me to Italy to shop.” “What!” Indeed what! I hoped that Blake didn’t mention it to Stephen. Not because I thought that Stephen would be appalled, but because he might just actually plan something like that. “He really likes me. He thinks I’m great, and he wants to spoil me.” That wasn’t really what he’d said exactly but wasn’t necessarily a lie. “Maggie. I don’t want to sound like your brother again, but I do not think this is a good idea.” “What do you know, Blake?” “I just don’t think you know Stephen well enough to be in any sort of relationship with him. I mean you just met him a few weeks ago, and as far as I know, you’ve been on what, one date with him?” “Like you said, Blake, you really don’t know. Anyways, I have to go. I have a book to write if you didn’t remember.” I hung up the phone, exasperated and confused. I didn’t know why I had reacted the way I had, and somehow cemented myself in a relationship that I didn’t want to be in in the first place.

* * * Gayle had me going to the gym every day again. It was sort of nice to get back into the routine, and it was especially nice when Perky Tina came up to me and asked me if I wanted to be included in the makeover stories section on the gym’s website. I turned them down of course (who wants to be immortalized as a fatass?) but it was nice to have been asked. The marathon was coming up in a month, and I was nowhere close to being able to run 26 miles. But I was able to do a solid 5K and possibly even a 10K. “I think I’m going to switch my race to a 5K,” I told Gayle as we walked to our cars the day I was going to have lunch with Bridget. “I just think it’s more feasible.” I glanced over at Gayle’s face, surprised to see that she was smiling and not frowning. “I hope you aren’t disappointed with me.” “Of course not, Mags!” Gayle laughed. “What’s so funny?” “I have been waiting for this day for ages, Mags. I signed us up for a 5K, not a marathon. I can’t even run a marathon.” “What? What? Of course you can run a marathon. You are in great shape,” I said while pointedly staring at her taut body.

“I may be in shape, Mags, but I certainly can’t run a marathon.” “But, but you always go on about running.” “Mags, I don’t know if you ever really listened to me properly. You were always so defensive, but when I was telling you about running, I was talking about running a mile.” “A mile?” “Yeah, Mags, a mile. I can barely run 4 miles without stopping now.” “What?” I burst out laughing. What a fool I had been. “Oh, Gayle, I’m sorry. I’ve been a right idiot.” “You’re not an idiot, Maggie.” “Maybe not an idiot, but I’ve been so self-absorbed.” I thought about everything I had missed that was going on with Gayle. “I’m really sorry, Gayle. Really.” I grabbed her hands. “I’ve been a bad friend, so caught up in my own life, my own daydreams.” “It’s okay, Mags. We’ve all been there. And you’ve really changed in the last few months. Ever since Blake came back into your life, you’ve seemed to grow up a lot.” “Yeah, he’s been a good influence in my life. I forgot how important he was to me. When he moved, I missed him so much. You know, Chad never really had much time for me and, well, Blake really made me feel special when I was a child. And he pushed me. You know. I’ve thought about him a lot recently.” “He really cares about you, Mags.” “Yeah, as a sister.” “That’s not such a bad thing.” Gayle’s voice was gentle. “Yeah. Oh, Gayle. I’m crazy. I’m horrible. I want Blake for myself, but here I am going to lunch with his girlfriend, or should I say ‘partner.’ And I’ve got a boyfriend who’s as dumb as rocks, as pretentious as a reality star, and annoys the bejesus out of me. What am I doing?” “It’ll work out, Maggie. I promise.” “I hope so.” “It will.” “Let’s hope it works out before I find myself married to Stephen, doing exposés on McDonald’s versus Burger King’s fries.” “Huh?” “Don’t ask.” I laughed. “I’d better get going. I’m sure Bridget is waiting on me.” “Tell her I said hi.” “Will do.” And with that, I drove off to meet Bridget at Just Salads. No wonder she was

in perfect shape. I might have lost weight and started exercising more, but I still enjoyed eating as many French fries as I could with as many meals as I could. “Maggie, so good to see you. It’s been too long.” Bridget beamed at me. A twinge of guilt ran through me. I truly was a bad person. “Bridget, good to see you too. You look wonderful.” And it was true. She looked great. How could Blake not love her? She was perfect, it seemed. “As do you.” We grabbed our salads and sat near the window. I was impressed by the wide array of vegetables that were available to me and tried to get excited by the broccoli and beets that were sitting alongside my spinach. “So, Blake tells me you are seeing Stephen Evan, the producer?” “Yes, yes. Kinda.” Blake was worse than a girl! “I have to say I was surprised to hear that.” “Really? Why?” Did Bridget also not think I was good enough for a Hollywood big-wig like Stephen? Okay, who was I kidding? He was a Hollywood big-wig as much as I was a big TV star. “Oh, I just didn’t think you would be interested in Stephen, and well, you know.” “No, what?” I said irritated. “I thought that you and Blake had a thing.” “What?!” Omg, did she know I had a thing for her boyfriend? “I thought you and Blake had a thing for each other. And well he is a much better guy than Stephen, no offense,” she rushed the last bit out. My head was spinning. Why would she think Blake and I had a thing for each other? Was this some sort of test? “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Bridget.” “Oh, sorry. I just thought you had Blake had some sparks,” she said calmly, while eating her salad. “Huh? Aren’t you dating Blake? I’m a bit confused.” “Me dating Blake?” Bridget started laughing. “Where did you get that from?” “He said you were partners. I mean, you guys meet up for breakfast and dinner, and...” “We are partners, Maggie. In the firm. And we have breakfast and dinner meetings when we need to discuss cases.”

“Oh.” “I’m not dating Blake, Maggie.” “Oh.” Was this still part of her test? Was she trying to check my reaction? I guess my confusion must have shown in my face. “I’m gay, Maggie.” “Oh.” I looked up at Bridget, and she looked like she was telling the truth. “So, let me get this straight. You aren’t dating Blake?” “Nope.” “So, he is single?” “Yup” “And you thought we had a spark?” “Definitely. He talks about you all the time, Maggie.” “He does?” “Yup.” “Oh.” Was there a possibility that Blake liked me? “So what’s going on with you and Stephen, Maggie?” “I don’t like him at all. He’s awful, Bridget, but I kinda fell into dating him and decided to just see where it would go, because I didn’t want Blake to think he could boss me around, and because I was jealous that you guys were together. Or at least I thought you guys were together. Oh man, I’ve made such a mess of things.” “Oh, Maggie.” ‘Oh, Maggie’ was right. What a mess I had made of things. What must Blake think of me? No wonder he thought I was a mess. He must think I just went from guy to guy to guy, that I was so desperate for a man that I would do anything with anyone. And really, did I even have a chance with him? If anything, I had made him think of me as the incorrigible little sister more than ever in the last few weeks. But then why had he kissed me so passionately?

22 Dear Diary, I think I’m going to stop writing in you for a while. I need time to regroup. And I’m going to France. I know, I know. Shocker, right? Well, I may be going to France. A lot has happened in the last few weeks, and I feel like I am finally growing up and becoming an adult. Life’s not like the movies, and love isn’t a romance novel. At least not for most people. I think I may be one of the lucky ones. At least that is what I hope. We’ll see. I may finally get my French kiss. That is if I don’t become a household name first. Blake was waiting at my doorstep when I got home that evening. I was worried that Bridget had told him about our conversation and he had come to let me down gently. “Hey, Maggie.” He smiled at me. “Sorry to show up unannounced.” “That’s okay, what’s up?” I spoke politely, dreading hearing the words ‘sister’ and ‘I just don’t feel that way.’ “I wanted to apologize for what I said to you about Stephen.” “You could have done that over the phone.” “I had something I needed to tell you.” I looked up at him then. He was staring down at me, and my heart started beating very quickly. “Did you speak to Bridget today?” “What? No. Why do you always ask me about Bridget?” Blake looked confused. “No reason, no reason.” I laughed. I wasn’t about to tell him what I had thought. We walked into my apartment, and I was happy to see that it didn’t look as messy as it usually did. Lucy was gnawing on her Kong and seemed intent on trying to dig out the peanut butter that I had stuffed it with earlier that morning. “So what did you want to talk to me about?” I asked hesitantly. “I needed to tell you something. It wasn’t just chance that I bumped into you that day at the gym.” “What? You were stalking me?” “No. No. I mean, it was chance that I saw you at the gym, but it wasn’t chance that we just found each other again. I’ve been looking for you for a

while. I was going to contact you that week anyway. I just happened to bump into you at the gym first.” “Oh.” Oh! “So, at the restaurant when you asked me how I knew you were going to call me, I lied. I didn’t know if you would call, but it didn’t matter. I had your phone number and was going to call you anyways.” “Why did you want to contact me?” “I’ve been thinking about you and Chad a lot lately. You guys were the best part of my childhood and there was also something about you, so precocious, so funny...” “You didn’t have a crush on me as a kid, did you?” “Don’t be silly, Maggie. I’m not a creep. But you have always been a really important part of my life. I wanted to reconnect with you. Does that make sense?” “Yes, yes, it does.” I could feel my hope fading. He didn’t love me. He just wanted to reconnect with his old childhood friends. He did see me as a sister. “I’ve been so happy with you back in my life, and I realized today that I’ve been overbearing. If you really like Stephen and want to date him, that’s your business. I’ll support you no matter what happens.” “Thanks.” I wanted to tell Blake that I didn’t want to be with Stephen, that I loved him, that I was so happy that he was back in my life. That I never wanted to lose him ever again. “Thanks, I appreciate it.” Blake pulled me towards him then, and we hugged. I breathed in his scent, and he rested his head on top of mine. Time seemed to stand still. “So, do you want to go out to dinner tonight?” Blake asked me as he pulled away from me. “Your treat?” “My treat. I had an idea I was going to put past you.” “Oh, yeah?” “Yeah. I’m going to France to work on a case next month for 2 weeks. I was wondering if you wanted to come along. I thought it might be a good way for you to get some inspiration for your book.” “Oh, Blake, that sounds amazing, but I don’t know if I can afford that.” “I have millions of frequent flier miles. Don’t worry about the ticket. Plus, obviously you can stay in my chateau with me for free.” “Wow, that would be awesome!” And a perfect way for me to try and get into Blake’s heart. Beep-beep. I looked down to a text from Stephen:

Call me! I just spoke to an NBC producer. He’s interested in running our McDonald’s exposé special on one of the top news shows when it’s done. We’ve hit the big time, baby. I walked down to Blake’s car very confused and contemplating what I should do. Go to France and see if there was a possibility for Blake and me, or should I stay here and finally put everything into my career? I’d have to think it over very carefully. After a big slice of cheesecake, of course.

Part II

2 Dear Diary, Blake asked me to go to France with him, and he wants to marry me and love me forever. He wants me to quit my job so I can write all day and look after the kids – with the help of a nanny, of course. We are going to move to a house close to the beach, with a pool, and he is going to buy me a Range Rover: black, leather interior and shiny rims. Okay, okay. That’s not exactly true, unless you count my dreams. It is true in my dreams, well, daydreams, to be exact. That would be the perfect ending to our story, right? I mean, he has asked me to go to Paris with him. Unfortunately, life isn’t as great as my daydreams, and he didn’t ask because he loves me. In fact, I still haven’t decided whether or not I am going to go to Paris or stay here and work with crazy Stephen on his documentary. “Maggie, why are you even considering working for Stephen? You know he’s a charlatan,” Gayle moaned at me, having had this conversation with me for the last two weeks. She is fed-up with my lack of decision-making. “This could be my big shot, Gayle. Primetime TV – who knows what could be next? I could be the next Julia Roberts or Angelina Jolie.” “Or you could be the next Denise Longley.” “Who?” “Exactly. You could be the next ‘Who’s that actress?’” Gayle says matter-offactly. Frankly, I was annoyed. Shouldn’t she be supportive of me? Especially since she basically stole my boyfriend from me. Well, a guy I had at one time hoped to date. But the wording was just semantics. She owed me. “I won’t leave you behind, Gayle. Don’t worry.” I tap her on the shoulder. Maybe she is worried I’ll dump her for Charlize Theron or Kristen Stewart once I hit the big time. “You will always be my best friend.” Gayle burst out laughing and only stopped when she realized I was glaring at her. “Maggie, you are going to be working behind the scenes on a McDonald’s exposé, that may or may not even be real, and you can’t act. I’m not worried.” I was about to retort back at Gayle about how it wasn’t nice to be a jealous bitch, but was stopped by my vibrating phone. “Speak of the devil. It’s Stephen.” I gave her one last glare and turned around to answer the phone. “Maggie Lane’s office. How can I help you?” I said in a cheerful manner,

putting on a slight English accent. “Maggie?” Stephen said bewilderingly. “This is Maggie Lane’s office, ay.” Oops, I forgot that it was the Canadians that always add the “ay” to the end of every sentence and not the English. “Maggie?” Stephen sounded angry. “Shall I…” “Maggie, I do not have time for pranks. I need to talk to you.” I glared at the phone. “Yes, Stephen. How can I help you?” I pouted into the phone. “Thank you, Eileen, my new English assistant, for handing me the phone,” I said to the air beside me. I saw Gayle laughing at me and rolling her eyes. “Maggie, we are in trouble.” Stephen seems to be gasping. “What are you talking about, Stephen?” I swear, he has got to be the most annoying man I have ever met – and one of the dumbest. I had been about to leave his employment when he told me about the opportunity to produce this exposé for NBC. “We need to talk. In person.” His voice is low. I wonder if he is trying to sound like Voldemort from Harry Potter, because he sounds creepy as hell. Oh shit. I really hoped this wasn’t his way of trying to get me into his bed. I had, at one time, thought he was attractive and worth dating, but I had absolutely no interest in him now and didn’t want to find myself in any awkward positions with him, especially seeing as I now knew that Blake was very much single and I wanted him very much to be mine. “I don’t really have time tonight, Stephen. Maybe tomorrow morning? At the local Starbucks?” In your dreams, I thought. “What about right now? This can’t wait!” He sounds annoyed. “I cannot come to your house right now, Stephen…” I knew I was irresistible to men in my dreams, but I didn’t know it had started in real life, as well. “What are you going on about, Maggie? Meet me at Blake’s office in an hour.” And with that, he slammed the phone down on me. “What’s going on?” Gayle looked at me in wonder as I felt my heart starting to beat hard. “I’m not sure, actually.” I only hoped Stephen wasn’t going to go and start a fight with Blake over me. Sure, that sounded romantic in books, but I didn’t think Blake would appreciate Stephen coming to beat him up, seeing as he had never shown any real romantic interest in me. “Maggie?” “Sorry, Gayle, I gotta go. I’ll call you when I know more.” I ran out of the Starbucks as fast as I could and jumped into my car. Okay, the running was in

my head. I walked out slowly while I looked at the pastries, debating whether I should buy one to eat now or later while in my car. I tried to think back to everything I had said to Stephen about Blake. I didn’t think I had mumbled about my love for him or even told him about Paris. But whatever the reason, Stephen needed me to meet him at Blake’s office. It had to be serious. I mean, Blake had dropped him as a client a few weeks ago, and Stephen had never really gotten over his bitterness. It made things even more awkward for me, because Blake had introduced us and now he wanted me to have nothing to do with him. “Shit,” I mumbled to myself as I walked around the corner heading towards Blake’s office. Stephen was already there, and they seemed to be in a very acrimonious argument. “I’m here, guys, stop fighting.” I twirled in and did a little dance. I had seen a movie where the girl used dancing to stop gang warfare and figured it was worth a shot. I achieved my goal. Both Blake and Stephen stopped arguing and looked at me in shock. Well, Blake had amusement in his eyes, and Stephen looked at me like I was crazy and should be in a mental hospital. I was definitely never going to sleep with him. I smiled at Blake as my insides fluttered. He was just so handsome. He looked a little worn out, though, and had stubble on his face. I wanted to caress it and see if it were soft to the touch. It looked soft. But I held back. Both he and Stephen would likely look at me in even more shock if I were to do that. “Guys, please stop fighting. I’m not worth it.” “Huh?” Blake looked at me, confused. “You see, Blake? She is mental. How was I to know she would stoop to some illegal methods?” Stephen’s arms went flaying as he tried to prove his point. “I think you both better sit down.” Blake motioned to the two seats in front of his heavy cherry-wood desk. There were files all over it and a couple of photos. I tried to see who was in the frames, but couldn’t quite see. “Maggie.” Blake’s voice commanded me to look at him. “I need your full attention, please.” “Yes, sir,” I barked back at him, annoyed. Who was he? My dad? Not that my dad was half as good looking as Blake. “Maggie, Stephen here brought me this piece of paper to review.” “Okay.” And? I was thinking to myself. “He is being sued for illegal trespassing and theft.” “What?” Whoa, I knew he was shady! “He is saying that you were the one who told him to do it.” “What?” I screeched. “I what?” I looked at Stephen, who was looking at me

with hatred in his eyes. “He says you told him that was the information you needed to make sure the investigation went well, and that you told him you had checked the law, and because it was for a TV show, it didn’t count as theft.” Blake said matter-offactly. “What didn’t count as theft? I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” I hoped Blake didn’t really believe I could do something so shady. “The notes you got from an inside source, relating to McDonald’s? That you were using for the exposé …” “You mean the notes Stephen got from his source, the janitor?” I glared at Stephen. “It turns out Stephen hired his friend to pretend to be a janitor to steal the notes, and he says you told him to do it.” “That’s not true.” I looked at Blake with wide eyes. “Yes, it is.” Stephen looked at me. “It’s my word against yours, sugar.” “Blake, did you hear that? You know me.” Blake sighed. “I know exactly what is going on. Stephen, you listen, and you listen closely. I will take care of this, and the charges will be dropped. But I want you to make sure that I never see your face again and you never contact Maggie again. If I ever hear that you have said anything about Maggie again, you will be finished in this town. Do you hear me?” Stephen smiled. “Loud and clear.” And then he looked at me; “Sorry, Mags, guess you won’t be making it big in TV anytime soon, but I suppose that is good news for you. You have more time to work on getting that fat ass down.” My mouth dropped open. “I’ll leave you and your buddy-boy here to do your thing. I got what I needed. And don’t worry about hearing anything about me here; I’m moving to Canada, better tax laws there anyway.” And with that, he sauntered out. I sat back in the chair, flabbergasted. What had just happened? I wasn’t going to be a star, no TV, no movies. Stephen had tried to set me up to take the fall for some illegal business, and he didn’t even want to bed me. What was going on? “Are you okay, Maggie-Moo?” Blake got up and came round to my chair. He put his arm around my shoulder and looked at me in concern. “He said I had a fat ass,” I gasped. Blake bit his lip and I could tell he was trying to stop himself from laughing. “I’ve been working on my ass for six months. I can’t believe he said it was fat.” Blake let out the biggest laugh I had ever heard from him. I looked at him with anger. “What’s so funny?”

“Your boss tries to set you up to take the fall for his theft, you were potentially facing close to 10 years in jail, and you are most concerned about your ass.” “Ten years? What?” I looked at him in shock. And this time my heart isn’t pounding because I can smell his cologne. “The penalty for the trespassing and theft would have been 10 years.” “Are you sure you can take care of this, Blake?” I look at him, scared. “Yes, don’t worry.” He paused for a second. “Let’s go get some lunch.” “I don’t know if I can eat. I think I need to look for a job.” I sighed. “I have a proposition for you.” “You do?” “Yup.” “What is it?” I asked eagerly. “We will discuss it over lunch. C’mon, let’s go.” And with that, he grabbed my hand and we walked to his car, the joy back in my step. When we got to his car, he pulled me into his arms and gave me a long deep kiss. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.” He said as he pulled away and lightly tapped my ass. “Oh Maggie, what am I going to do with you?” He said and all I could think in my head was, make love to me and make me yours. Of course, I didn’t say that out-loud.

3 Dear Diary, I’m leaving on a jet plane, never to come back again. Well, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. I am coming back, but that’s not the important part. I’m going to London and Paris. WOOT. Blake felt so guilty for introducing me to Stephen that he offered me a job. While I had wished for a declaration of love to be the reason why I was going, guilt works just as well. I have just 2 weeks to lose weight to fit in with all the skinny Europeans. “You do have a passport, right, Mags?” “Yes, Blake, duh.” I made a mental note to look for my passport when I got home. I knew I had one, but wasn’t sure if it had expired already or not. “Okay, good. I’m going to purchase the tickets next week. I have to see if I can get a continuance in one my cases first.” “Huh. A what?” I looked at him blankly. “Never mind.” He grinned. “So we’ll be gone for about a month. Make sure to take care of all your bills, and see if Gayle can look after Lucy.” Oops, I had completely forgotten about Lucy. What a bad owner/mother I was. “Yes, I’ll ask Gayle tonight. She and Ben love her, so it shouldn’t be a problem.” And they kinda owed me. Ben had been my kinda crush for a while, and Gayle and he had fallen in love and left me in the dust. Well not literally in the dust, but you know. They were a couple, and I was still single. “Great. I can come over tonight and we can create a packing list.” “Okay, that sounds good. And Blake…” I looked at him, biting my lip. “Yes, Maggie?” he smiled. “Well, you know I’m kinda broke right now. Do you think…” “You want me to bring a pizza over tonight.” I grinned at him. “Yes please. Extra cheese, and some brownies, too.” “I’ll bring some wine, too, and we can make a night of it.” Blake grinned back at me, and I felt a shiver run through me. He was soo perfect. I didn’t know what I was going to do or how I was going to make it happen, but I was going to make Blake mine any way I could. He was going to be in my bed tonight, one way or the other.

* * * “Make a man fall in love with you,” I spoke aloud as I typed into Google on my laptop. I saw millions of webpages pop up in the search, and I started to feel excited. One of these things had to work. I mean, there couldn’t be this many pages and no solution. I was going to make Blake fall in love with me. Now that I knew he was single, it was all engines on. He might think of me as a goofy little sister, but I was a woman, and I wanted him to see me as that. As a sexy supermodel. I decided to create a list of different options that I could use to make him fall in love with me. Secret List to Make Blake Connor Love Me Love Spell (may need some of his hair or saliva) Make him jealous (this works best if I get engaged to someone else) Become a dominatrix (will need to invest in handcuffs and other toys) Become a supermodel (need to lose 1000 lbs. and become younger) Become a millionaire (though a billionaire would be preferable) I wasn’t feeling very confident that I could make any of these things happen in the three hours before he came over. I needed to come up with a plan. I could call it ‘Operation Blake.’ I could rent a bunch of movies and start watching ‘The History Channel’ for some ideas. It seemed to me I needed a timeline. I figured a realistic date to start the operation would be when we went to London and the deadline would be our flight back to Los Angeles. I had exactly one month to make Blake fall in love with me and propose. Okay, I’d settle for fall in love with me for the month. That was going to be hard enough as it was. The doorbell rang, and I quickly stuffed my notes under a couch cushion. There was no way I could let Blake see what I was doing. “Coming,” I sang out and was immediately happy when I saw Blake had brought a large pizza from Dino’s Pizzeria; it was my favorite in all of LA. “Just in time.” I ushered him in, trying not to dribble. I was excited to see both him and the pizza. “In time for what?” Blake looked at me quizzically and raised an eyebrow at me. “In time for me not to die of starvation, duh.” I silently thanked him for not making a comment about how I could survive off of my fat for a good while. Gayle had already given me a talk like that once, and let’s just say that it did not go down too well. “Oh, my God, this is soo delicious.” I stuffed a slice of pizza in my mouth and gobbled it down. Pepperoni, onions, and peppers, with extra cheese. Blake

knew me well. “I aim to please, Maggie.” Blake was watching me as I grabbed another slice of pizza. If this were a date, there was no way I would eat like a pig in front of the guy. But this was Blake. I didn’t mind if he saw me stuffing my face. I knew he wouldn’t make any comments about how hard it must be to lose weight loving junk food like I did. That was just one of the great things about Blake. “You know, Blake, you are quite possibly my best friend.” I laughed up at him, happy in my pizza high. “Really? What about Gayle?” “Oh, you know I love Gayle. But you just really get me. I’m so glad you’re back in my life,” I smiled. “Even if you do call me Maggie Moo-moo.” I hit him on the arm and felt a jolt run through me. Blake ran a hand through his dark brown hair and swallowed. Oh shit, he feels uncomfortable. I’d only had one glass of wine so far, so I didn’t think I’d said anything I shouldn’t have. “You know, Maggie, you are really special to me, as well.” Blake spoke softly, which was unusual for him. “Thanks, Blakey,” I sang to him, not wanting to make the situation any more uncomfortable. I’d never seen Blake look so nervous. “So, I wanted to talk about our trip,” he started. “I am so excited to be going to France and England. Can you believe it? Me in Europe.” “I’m glad. I am so sorry about Stephen, Maggie. I hope you aren’t heartbroken.” I looked at him in astonishment and laughed. “Heartbroken? Over that idiot? No way.” “Oh, I’m glad,” he smiled at me. “So, I wanted to talk about the trip.” “I have my passport, Blake, don’t worry.” I made a mental note to clean the apartment the next day so I could find it. “Good, good.” He was distracted. “I wanted to talk about why I invited you on the trip.” “It’s okay. I know. You felt bad ‘cause Stephen was an ass, and now I can act as your secretary. Ooh, I promise to practice my shorthand and typing skills. I type 80 words per minute right now, though, so don’t worry.” I stopped and made a mental note to work on my typing skills, I could really only type 30 WPM and there were usually a lot of typos in that, as well. “That’s not why I asked you, Maggie.” He took my hand in his, and I looked up in shock. Oh shit, he was going to propose to me. Somehow, my list had worked already and he was in love with me and now he was going to propose. I wished I had worn my sexy underwear. There was no way I was going to fall

into bed with him in the underwear I had on now. No way. Oh well, I could save it for the wedding night. Or tomorrow night instead. I could go to the spa and get a wax. Argh, scratch that. I didn’t know how painful a wax was going to be down there. “So?” Blake looked at me in anticipation, and I realized I had missed what he said. “Um, yes.” I smiled at him willingly and put my hand out. He looked at me puzzled. “Sorry, yes what, Maggie?” “Uh, yes. I have my passport.” Argh. “Uh, okay. I just asked you if you would come on this trip as my girlfriend.” “What?!?!” I was in shock. Happy shock. So it wasn’t a marriage proposal, but this was perhaps even better, because it was real life. “Will you be my girlfriend, Maggie?” Blake was grinning down at me, and for once in my life, I had nothing to say in response. “Maggie, since I saw you at the gym a few months ago and you have been in my life, I have realized just how much you mean to me, and how you make me laugh, and I’d like for us to date.” I pinched myself to make sure that this was real. Then I pinched him. “Ow.” Blake looked at me in confusion. “Just checking.” I pinched myself again and hard. “Ouch. Okay, this is real.” “Huh?” “Nothing.” I wanted to ask Blake to leave so I could call Gayle and talk to her about it and scream and shout with happiness. I wanted to call Stephen just so I could to tell him to F-off, and I wanted to call Perky Tina from the gym to say that you don’t need to be a size zero to get a Prince Charming. “So?” Blake was looking at me worried, and I realized I hadn’t yet responded to his statement. “Of course I want to date you, Blake. You dork.” I leaned over and gave him a kiss – on the lips, I might add – and I sunk into him, and his firm lips kissed me back. I felt his arm snaking around my back, but I backed away, thinking, ‘I can’t have sex tonight. My legs are all hairy.’ Blake played with my hair and smiled at me. “I hope I’m doing the right thing here.” “What do you mean?” I said indignantly. “I don’t want to ruin our friendship, Maggie. And well, you have a history of creating and leaving drama anywhere you go.” I pouted. “No I don’t.” Well, maybe. But he shouldn’t be thinking about that. “Yes, you do. But I guess that’s part of the package.” He laughed.

“I’m so excited, Blake. We’re going to go to London and Paris as a couple. Oh, my God, Gayle is going to be so jealous.” Lucy ran up to me and started barking as I squealed. I got up and danced around the room with her. “This is going to be amazing.” “Maggie, you do know that I have to work, right?” Blake looked concerned. “I can’t go gallivanting around with you.” “I know.” I bit my lip. “Are you still going to be in need of my secretarial services?” Please say no. “Well…” Argh. “No, Maggie. This trip is to help you write and sort your mind out.” “Yeah, yeah.” I paused. “Wait, so why did you ask me to come as your girlfriend?” I looked at Blake. “Do you just want me to be your kept woman?” I stared at Blake with my eyes narrowed. He burst out laughing. “Uh no, Moo-moo. That isn’t the case.” I felt a little disappointed at his words. I wouldn’t mind being a kept woman. Especially with Blake. Hell, I’d prefer it. No job and Blake would be like living in heaven. “Shall we watch a movie, Mags?” Blake leaned back on the couch, and I sighed. I really wanted to talk about us some more. When did he realize he liked me? Where did he see the relationship going? Did he love me? But something inside held me back. I was a little worried to hear what the answers would be. I didn’t stop to question myself, but I was concerned he wouldn’t say he loved me. I pushed my concerns out of my mind and grabbed the remote. “Okay, chick flick, or chick flick?” I laughed as he grabbed the remote away from me. He chose a comedy, and I snuggled into his chest, deliriously happy at the situation I found myself in. It seemed to me that sometimes we all got a happy ending.

4 Dear Diary, Dating Blake is wonderful. Only he’s not as romantic as I would like him to be, and he hasn’t told me he loves me yet. He is also starting to act like my dad again, which is really annoying. He keeps asking me about my book and my writing, and he bought me an iPad for the trip so I can write on the plane. I tried to tell him I don’t do well under pressure, but he ignored me. I’m starting to think this trip isn’t going to be the bed of roses I thought it was going to be. Our flight left in six hours, we had to be at the airport in three, and I still hadn’t packed. I didn’t know what to take with me. It had been two weeks since Blake and I had started dating, and we had yet to sleep with each other. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I knew that had to change in Europe. How could I go on a romantic vacation with my boyfriend if we weren’t even sleeping together? I rummaged through my underwear drawer and couldn’t find any sexy underwear. “Gayle,” I cried into the phone. “What am I going to do?” “Get some in London, Maggie,” she sighed. She was already fed up with hearing me talk about Blake. “But what if the stores are closed?” I sighed. “I want tonight to be perfect.” “Maggie, I’m sure Blake will be happy to have you in any underwear.” “I can’t wear Hanes on our first passionate night together, Gayle.” I looked around my apartment at all the clothes strewn on the floor. “Oh, my gosh, my apartment looks like a mess.” “Maggie, get off the phone and pack. If you have time, maybe drop by the mall.” Gayle didn’t even get to finish what she was saying before I hung up. Aha, I thought to myself. I’m going to go to the mall. I would pop into Victoria’s Secret and get some new bras and negligees and then hurry back home to pack. Blake was going to pick me up in two and a half hours, so I knew I had to be back in about an hour. I grabbed my iPad and my purse and rushed out the door.

* * * “So, I’ll take the red and the black. Ooh, and the bustier.”

“What about the crotchless panties, miss? Do you still want them?” The salesgirl beamed at me. I could tell the commission was adding up in her head, and I was about to make her very rich. At least my MasterCard was, if it got approved. “Um, do you think they’re too slutty?” I whispered to her, not wanting the elderly women behind me to hear. “No, ma’am. I think your husband will appreciate them.” “I’m not married. Well, yet.” I beamed. Who knew what was next in my relationship with Blake. “I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if he proposed to me in Paris. How fantastic would that be?” “That would be wonderful,” the salesgirl gushed at me. I beamed at her while wondering if I had time to pop into a jewelry store. My phone interrupted my thoughts. “Maggie, I’m on my way to pick you up.” Blake’s voice was on the other end of the phone. “What?” I screeched. “I’m on my way to pick you up for the airport,” Blake drawled into my ear. I looked down and my watch and almost fainted. I was late. “Oh, uh. I went to Starbucks to write. I’ll meet you at the airport.” “Are you sure?” Blake sounded concerned. “Yeah, uh. I’m going to catch a cab now.” I hung up the phone quickly. “I have to go, that was my, uh, boyfriend. I’ll take everything.” I grabbed my credit card from my wallet. “Do you sell suitcases?” I asked hopefully. “No, ma’am.” The girl looked at me, worried. I bet she thought I was going to cancel my order after spending the last two hours with me. “Miss, there’s a luggage store just by the food court.” The elderly ladies beamed at me. “Thanks.” I smiled at them and winced at my 450 dollar bill. Blake had better appreciate my new underwear. I rushed to the luggage store and bought a new suitcase and stuffed my new underwear into it. I drove to the airport and sighed as I parked and saw the daily charges. I was going to owe a fortune when I got back. I checked in my luggage and called Blake. “I’m here. Where are you?” “I’m at the Applebee’s by the gate. I’ll order you a drink.” “Yay. Thanks.” I released my breath and exhaled. I had made it to the airport on time, had my sexy underwear, and all was good. I’d worry about a change of clothes once I got to London. “Hey, Maggie Moo-moo.” Blake stood up and greeted me with a kiss, and I kissed him back enthusiastically. “Whoa, slow down, Tiger.” “I missed you.” I grinned at him. I didn’t bother telling him that I was also

trying to get him in the mood for some mile high nooky. I couldn’t imagine what my friends would say if I told them our first time was on a plane. That would be epic for sure. “I’m glad you made it on time. I was starting to worry about you.” He looked at me curiously. “Did you get a lot of writing done?” “Huh?” I looked at him in confusion before I remembered my lie. “Oh, yeah, yeah. Lots of good stuff. Indeed, very good stuff.” He laughed and had a sip of his coffee. “I’m sure you did, my dear.” I could tell by the look on his face that he didn’t believe a word I was saying. “By the way, I told Chad we would call him when we landed in London.” “Oh okay, cool.” I felt guilty because I hadn’t even bothered to tell anyone in my family that I was going anywhere. Oh well, that’s why it was so great to date someone like Blake. “We need to talk about the work you will be doing on the trip, Mags.” “I thought you told me you didn’t need me to act as a secretary?” I pouted at him. “I’m talking about your writing – or do you not consider that work?” He looked at me quizzically, and I knew it wasn’t the time to tell him of my dreams of being a kept woman. “Oh, well of course I’ll be writing. At Buckingham Palace, Trafalgar Square, Harrods. Ooh, the places are endless.” I beamed at him, truly excited to visit the country I had been dreaming of since I was a little girl watching ‘Fawlty Towers.’ “Can we go into the countryside as well? I really want to visit Buckinghamshire.” “Sure. We can go up one weekend.” He smiled at me, bemused. “Seems like I am really going to be boyfriend of the year if I keep this up.” “Whatever.” I smacked his arm, but inside I was beaming and singing. He called himself my boyfriend, he called himself my boyfriend. I knew that mentally I was reverting back to a 16-year-old, but I was just so excited to be dating a guy as handsome and funny as he was. “Are you sure you want to smack the arm of the man who got you your first first-class ticket?” “Oh, my God, what!” I jumped up squealing and gave Blake a hug. “I cannot believe I’m traveling first class!” “Well, let’s go walk to the gate before the plane leaves without us, Maggie.” “Okay.” I beamed at him, already wondering what movies they were going to have available on the plane. I hoped they had that new Bradley Cooper movie, ‘The Words.’ That would just make my day. “I hope you have your iPad in your hand luggage, Maggie. I’d like to hear

some of your book and maybe you can create an outline for the rest of the book so you can finish it while we’re in London.” “Uh, yeah, sure.” I blinked at him. What was he on? Did he really think I was going to work on the plane instead of watching movies and enjoying free booze? Didn’t he want to join the mile-high club with me?

5 Dear Diary, Why is it that white lies are soo easy to tell? You would think that I would have written about ten books by now with all the different stories I have up in my head. I wrote a bit of my book on my iPad (do you know how hard it is to write on those things?), and then when I realized Blake had fallen asleep, I got into a conversation with a girl and her mom who were sitting across the aisle from me. And let’s just say, they think I’m a famous actress. Who knew the Brits were so gullible? I was so excited to get on the plane. I had never been in first class before. The seats were wider and softer than I had ever seen. They reminded me of LaZ-Boy recliners, and I felt like I was in heaven. The best part was the free champagne the airhostess brought us as soon as we sat down. We didn’t even have to wait for lift-off. I could definitely get used to this lifestyle. “Are you sure you want another glass of champagne already, Maggie?” Blake looked at me in concern, and I wanted to roll my eyes. He really had become infuriating since we started dating. “If it’s free, then I’m saying yes.” I gave him a winning smile. He should be thankful that I was getting drunk on the airline’s dime and not his. “Just because something is free doesn’t mean you have to take it, Maggie.” He frowned at me. “Are you going to be able to concentrate on your book if you’re drunk?” “A glass of champagne is not going to make me drunk.” I giggled as I hiccupped, and I knew Blake was not impressed. But really, he needed to loosen up. He was fast becoming a terrible bore; not the fun and caring man I had fallen for. “If you say so, Maggie.” He took out his copy of the NY Times and proceeded to ignore me. I stuck my tongue out at him and sighed. I hated feeling like I was being a disappointment to people. “Alcohol actually helps me to concentrate even better,” I lied to Blake. “I think it has something to do with the tannins. They, uh, electrify my brain and provide protons to make me think better. You know, cognitive functions at work.” I tried to look at him with a knowing look on my face. “Oh, Maggie, what am I going to do with you?” Blake burst out laughing. “And how did I get through law school without you?”

“I don’t know, Blake.” I frowned at him. For some reason, I had a feeling I was the butt of the joke and not the provider of a great comedic experience. “Maggie, if you want to drink your heart away tonight on the plane, go ahead.” He sighed. “I guess you can always get to work once we land.” “I knew you would understand.” I squealed and kissed Blake on the cheek with happiness. “It just makes more sense to drink free booze and watch movies right now.” “Uh huh.” Blake rolled his eyes and went back to his paper. To show him that I could be serious as well, I took out my iPad and started writing part of my new book. I was writing a YA fantasy book, and I was excited about the world I was creating, though I found it hard to remember the names of all the different characters and creatures I was creating. “Shit, what’s an Orbitop again?” I mumbled to myself as I tried to finish the last scene I had been writing. “What’s that, honey?” Blake smiled at me over his paper, happy to see me typing away on my iPad. “Nothing. Just trying to decide what I want to happen to the hero in my story,” I lied smoothly and opened the notepad app on my iPad and decided to make some notes. To Do: -Go over the characters’ names in the books and write them down. -Create creatures with different first letters. It is too easy to forget the difference between an Orbitop, Orgiro, and an Ogletop. -Figure out which characters are going to be good guys and bad guys before you continue on with the story. I bit my lip as I read my “to do” list. If I didn’t understand it myself, then I couldn’t continue writing my book and actually have a plot that was understandable to my reader. I peeked over at Blake, and his eyes were closed as if he were napping. It would be smarter for me to put the writing away for now. I really did need to make sure I knew what was going to happen before I continued writing. I mean, I didn’t want to mess anything up. I smiled to myself as I put my iPad away and settled back into my seat, eager to watch one of the movies that was about to start. As I was fiddling around with the headset, I noticed a young girl staring at me shyly. She was sitting a couple of seats ahead of me and every time we made eye contact, she bobbed her head back and forward quickly. I smiled at her and made a goofy face, feeling happy that she wasn’t sitting behind me. I knew how annoying kids could be on planes with their crying and kicking of the chairs in front of them. I saw it as a sign that luck was on my side that she wasn’t sitting

behind me. So I decided to pay my good luck forward and try and be friendly. “Hi.” I waved at the little girl. “How are you?” “I’m fine, thank you.” The girl spoke with a proper English accent, and I realized she wasn’t American. Maybe that accounted for her politeness. “I’m Maggie. What’s your name?” “Madeline Matthews.” She sucked her thumb and stared at me. “I’m six.” “Wow, you are a big girl, Madeline Matthews.” I looked at her curly brown hair and big brown eyes and I wondered if my daughter would look like that if Blake and I had kids together. “Are you an actress?” She looked at me eagerly, and I felt a sudden thrill. No one had ever asked me if I was an actress before, and I had lived in Los Angeles for years. I was about to tell her the truth, but I figured I would give her a thrill and let her show off to her friends at school the next week. “Why, yes I am, Madeline.” I beamed at her. “I try not to let my fans see me in public, but I figured today I would deign them worthy of my presence.” She looked at me like I was an alien, and I realized she probably didn’t understand what I was talking about. “Oops, sorry, Madeline. I meant to say yes I am a huge Hollywood star. I’m going to be starring in a movie with, Um, Bradley Cooper next.” I smiled sweetly at her and felt myself flush with excitement. Imagine if I were to really star in a movie with Bradley Cooper; that would be awesome. I paused for a moment to think. What would I do if Bradley Cooper wanted to marry me? Would I dump Blake? I looked over at Blake sleeping and bit my lip; he was so handsome and sweet, but c’mon; Bradley’s my dream. I was sure Blake would understand. My daydream was rudely interrupted by Madeline pulling on the sleeve of my shirt. She had gotten out of her seat and had a pen and piece of paper in her hand. “Can I get your autograph please?” She beamed at me, and I tried to ignore the chocolate stains she had gotten on my sleeve. “Uh, my autograph?” I looked at her closely. Was this kid really six? “Yes please.” She beamed at me and then pointed back to her seat. “Mummy said it was okay.” I looked and saw a lady a little older than me smiling at me pleasantly, and I reddened. Did she know that I was lying? I felt really bad and embarrassed and hesitated before signing the piece of paper. “Hello, I hope you don’t mind Madeline bothering you. She is just excited to see her first real actress.” The lady beamed at me. “I have to admit it is my fault. I told Madeline that when we went to Los Angeles, she would see lots of stars, but unfortunately, we didn’t see anyone.” “Oh, okay.” I smiled weakly and took the pen. For some reason, I signed the

paper as Maggie Cooper, instead of Maggie Lane. “Thanks, Mrs. Cooper.” Madeline smiled at me. I noticed she had a tooth missing and wondered if I should give her some coins and tell her that the Tooth Fairy had asked me to pass them along. “Mummy, Mrs. Cooper signed my paper.” Madeline went running back to her mummy’s chair. “Mrs. Cooper?” Madeline’s mother looked at me in interest. “As in Bradley Cooper?” “Uh, yeah,” I smiled weakly. I wasn’t really lying. I mean I had chosen the name Cooper because of my crush on him, not because I was pretending I was married to him. “Oh, my God, this is so cool,” the lady beamed at me. “I loved ‘The Hangover’ movies.” “Yeah, they were cool.” I wanted to tell her that I preferred ‘The Words’ and ‘The A-Team’ but didn’t think now was the time to get into a debate about my favorite Bradley Cooper movies. “How long have you two been married?” she whispered to me in her British voice, and I felt a secret thrill that she would believe that I was actually married to a sex god. “Oh, it’s very recent,” I beamed at her. “It was love at first sight, and well, now we’re starring in a new movie together.” “I’m sorry. I don’t recognize your face.” The lady looked apologetic. “But maybe I would recognize your name. What was it before you got married?” “Uh, it was Maggie Lane,” I smiled at her awkwardly. “Oh, yes, yes. Of course. The Maggie Lane.” She nodded her head enthusiastically and I half wondered if she wasn’t an actress herself. “Well, thanks soo much for the autograph, Mrs. Cooper. I promise Madeline and I will keep the news to ourselves.” I smiled at thanked the lady and sat back in my chair. For some reason, I felt really uneasy. I mean, only a fool would believe that I was a famous actress and married to Bradley Cooper. It wasn’t really my fault. I was just trying to be nice to a little girl. I couldn’t help thinking that somehow this was going to bite me in the ass. But really, how could it? I would never see them again.

6 Dear Diary, London is a magnificent city. And the people are soo friendly. Who knew? I expected them all to be Lords and Ladies with sticks up their asses. But they are all so much nicer than that. And the shopping is terrific. I’ve been given so many free gifts in the stores, and people are waving at me in the streets. I’m starting to think I should talk Blake into moving to London. I could get used to this kind of life. I was really disappointed when we got to the hotel in Knightsbridge. Not because it was shabby; no, not at all. By all means, it was the most luxurious hotel I had ever stayed in, in my life. I was upset because Blake had gotten us two separate rooms. I didn’t understand why, but what guy invites a girl on a trip overseas, asks her to be his girlfriend, and then gets separate rooms? Was he not attracted to me? I knew I was still a few pounds overweight; okay, I could easily lose another 25 pounds, but he knew that before he asked me to come with him. I was getting fed up with the chaste kisses he gave me each night before bed, as well. “Ready to go down for breakfast, Maggie?” Blake knocked on my door and called out to me. “Yes.” I opened the door and smiled at him sweetly. I figured the best approach was one of sultry sweetness, and I was determined that he would be beating down my door by the end of the week. I wasn’t going to let him know how disappointed I was that he hadn’t taken me into his arms and made love to me until I couldn’t remember my own name. “Morning.” He ruffled my hair, and I tried not to sigh. I reached over to him and gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, pressing myself close to him. “Good Morning, Blake.” I then pressed my lips to his and was delighted to feel him kiss me back with an urgency I had never felt from him before. Well aside from the night we spent together a couple of months ago. He finally stepped back from me after a good long French kiss. And I beamed at him. Score one for me! “Well, that certainly woke me up.” Blake laughed. He took my hand and we walked down to breakfast. I smiled at everyone we walked past and clung on to Blake’s hand with happiness. “And what would madam like for breakfast?” The waiter looked at me

without a smile. He reminded me of a butler and I felt like royalty as I ordered my food. “Well, what do you recommend?” I tried to smile at him and make him feel uncomfortable. “Many people enjoy a good ol’ English fry-up for breakfast, ma’am. Eggs, bacon, sausages, beans, and toast. We can add tomatoes and mushrooms as well, if you want.” “Oh, that sounds good.” My stomach rumbled just thinking about the food. “But I’ll just have some cereal, the Weetabix please.” I smiled half-heartedly, not really wanting the weird sounding cereal for breakfast. But I knew that if I wanted to seduce Blake, I had to be in my best shape. “Are you sure that’s all you want, Moo-moo?” Blake looked at me with concern. His wavy dark hair was flopping over his forehead, and I reached over and brushed it out of his eyes. I felt giddy with excitement that I was now able to touch him at my will. “Yes. I’m not that hungry,” I lied to him, and my face flushed red as my stomach grumbled once again, but even louder this time. “I think that was thunder.” I gave a weak smile, and the waiter walked away. “You need to eat, Maggie.” Blake started his lecturing again. “I don’t want you fainting from malnutrition.” “I’m sure I’ll be fine.” I smiled at him while looking down at my stomach. There were five extra pounds around my waist that I wouldn’t mind burning away as fuel. I knew Perky Tina from my gym back home would tell me that wasn’t how weight loss worked, but I could always dream. Maybe if I meditated hard enough, I could will away some of my pounds. That is what Gayle always told me: “Mind over matter.” In fact, that was one of her selling points for me to go to yoga with her. “Do you know if they have yoga here?” I asked Blake casually. “Yoga?” Blake looked at me with an odd look on his face. “I’m pretty sure they have yoga here. Why?” “Oh, I’ve been thinking of going. I want to get my mad-dog on.” I beamed at him. And I want to lose an extra 20 pounds, I thought to myself. “Mad-dog?” He raised an eyebrow at me. “This is a term you use regularly?” “Well, you know. Flying monkeys and mad-dogs.” I had no idea what I was talking about. I had tried a few yoga poses once on Gayle’s Wii and had fallen over after five seconds of trying to hold the pose and had decided to have some cookies instead. “I’ll take your word for it.” Blake grinned at me. “Though I wouldn’t mind you showing me what a flying monkey looks like after breakfast.”

“Oh, I can show you a flying monkey and a tinky winky after breakfast.” I batted my eyelashes up at him and winked. It seemed that my kiss had done the trick and we were about to get down and dirty. “Sounds good.” He winked back at me and poured himself some coffee. I was drinking my orange juice and thinking about whether I should let him be the aggressor or not, when I suddenly remembered that I hadn’t shaved in a couple of days. “Oh shit,” I mumbled under my breath as I casually lifted up my jeans to run my hands up my leg. I felt stubble, and I knew there was no way I was going to have my first roll in the sack with Blake occur when I was as hairy as a baboon. “What’s wrong?” Blake looked at me in concern. “Nothing.” I paused. “Well, I was thinking we could take a pass on the yoga after breakfast. Maybe we can go into the City and shop, Um, I mean write and research. I write and you research.” I beamed at him. “That sounds good, right?” “Uh huh.” Blake’s eyes were twinkling at me. “Sure, Mags.” “This way, I can get good use out of the iPad you got me. I know it cost, like, 500 dollars.” I smiled at him gratefully, though I would have preferred a Visa gift card to have done what I wanted with. “Oh, Maggie,” he sighed. “I don’t want you to feel pressured into writing when you are not in the mood. I just want you to have an easy way to write whenever the mood hits you.” “Okay.” I looked at him blankly. “Don’t you remember when you were a kid?” He smiled at me fondly. “I remember when I would sleep over and Chad and I would play videogames and you would come running out of your room begging us for a pen and paper so you could write down a great idea for a book you had.” “Oh, I remember that,” I smiled. “I once wrote a book about two of my favorite teddy bears falling in love.” “Yeah. So this way, you never have to run around looking for a pen and paper when inspiration hits.” He looked at me impishly. I felt an overwhelming sense of emotion for this handsome man who had bought me an iPad based on a childhood memory, and I leaned over the table and gave him a big kiss on the lips. “You are the best, William Blake.” “That’s what I was hoping you would say.” He kissed me back hard, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. That was not the kiss of a chaste man. I stared into his eyes and they were twinkling. “Maybe tonight you can show me how great you think I am?” “Oh, yeah I can.” I grinned at him and felt butterflies in my stomach. Finally,

Blake and I were going to take our relationship to the next level, and I hadn’t had to beg. All of a sudden, I wished that I could spend the day at a spa so I could get ready for him. I needed everything to be perfect. Oh damn, I needed to get a bikini wax. Maybe even a Brazilian wax, even though I had never gotten one before. I’d have to figure something out. “I sure can.” “Oh great, our food is here.” Blake smiled at the server, and I stared at his plate longingly. The food looked delicious. Much more delicious than the dry pieces of wheat I had in my bowl. I faked a grin and poured some milk into my bowl and munched away, trying to look satisfied. I knew I would have to find a doughnut shop and stuff my face when Blake wasn’t looking. Weetabix certainly wasn’t going to carry me over for a full day of shopping. Well, shopping and writing!

* * * We were in a store called Marks & Spencer when I first noticed all the stares and smiles. Two younger women were smiling at me, and I gave them a wave. “Howdy,” I said as I walked by. I had heard that the Brits thought that all Americans spoke like we were from the South, so I didn’t want to disappoint them. “Hi!” One of the girls beamed at me and then whispered to her friend and giggled. I looked at them kindly before raising my eyes to Blake. We were Americans, not visitors from Mars. “I guess the English are a lot friendlier than I thought,” I whispered to Blake as two more girls nodded at me when we were in Woolworths. “People say they are reserved and stiff, but I’ve never had so many people smile and wave at me before in my life.” “Indeed. It is quite curious.” He looked at me with a puzzled expression. “I’m not really sure why so many people seem to be so excited to see you.” “Yeah, me either.” I frowned. It was odd. Unless they were all a bunch of recent escapees from a local mental institute. “Have there been any breakouts recently?” I asked Blake curiously. “Breakouts?” He looked at me in confusion. “Yes, you know, from mental institutes or something. Whatever they call them here in England.” “Um, not that I know of. Though that isn’t something I really keep track of.” He paused. “Why, is there something you want to tell me, Maggie? Did you escape from an institute recently?”

I hit his arm and pouted at him. “No need to be rude, Blake.” “I’m not trying to be rude, Maggie, but where did this question come from?” His look showed me that he did think I was from a loony bin, but two girls interrupted us before could answer him. “Excuse me, sir.” They spoke directly to Blake. “Do you think we can talk to her, please?” Blake and I exchanged a glance. This was too weird for both of us. “Um, you can ask her.” Blake looked at them like they were aliens. “Sorry, but we thought it best to ask the bodyguard first.” They smiled at me nervously. “We didn’t want you to body-smack us to the ground or anything.” “What?” Blake sounded confused, and I started to feel a weird feeling in my belly. “As Maggie’s bodyguard, we thought it best to ask you. Some stars don’t like being talked to directly.” They gushed while sneaking peeks at me. I feel my face start to flush, and heat was rising through my body. I looked at Blake in pretend confusion, but I felt like I was going to faint. “What star?” Blake questioned them and then paused. “And wait. How did you know her name?” “She’s all over the Internet,” one of the girls gushed. “She was on the front page of the Hollywood Enquirer today.” “The what?” “The local gossip mag. It’s got all the latest news on the stars and who’s dating who.” The girl then turned to me. “What’s it like being with Bradley Cooper? And when will the movie be out?” OMG! I thought I was going to die. I wasn’t sure what went wrong, but my little lie shouldn’t have spread this quickly or publicly. I wasn’t sure what to do. I knew Blake wouldn’t understand, and would likely dump me if he realized what happened. I couldn’t have my first boyfriend in years dump me before we even slept together. How pitiful would that be? “Let’s go, Blake.” I grabbed his arm quickly and pulled him away from the girls. “Please go back to the institute, girls,” I shouted back to them and then pulled Blake out of the store. The girls were looking at me in confusion, and I felt a sense of regret that I had to treat my first fans that way, but that was preferable to Blake finding out the truth. “What’s going on here, Maggie?” Blake pulled me to the side of the store and looked at me sternly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I swallowed and tried not to melt as I stared back into his deep blue eyes. “Maggie Lane, I swear I do not need any drama on this trip.” He sighed.

“This is an important case for my firm, and you need to actually finish a book.” “I know, Blake.” Please don’t dump me. “I’m going to let that weird encounter go for now. But you had better fix whatever mess you have yourself in, Maggie.” “Yes, Blake.” How the F am I meant to do that? “Do you want to go and grab a coffee now?” “Yes, please.” My voice was low and quiet, and I knew that all I really wanted to do was go back to my room to veg and watch TV and hope that this all blew over soon. “But can it wait for about ten minutes? I just need to pop back into the store for something.” (Like some clothes.) “Sure.” He sighed. “Just make it quick.” “Okay.” I ran into the store and grabbed two pairs of jeans, some tops, and a sweater. As I was walking to the counter, I saw a cute dress and quickly grabbed that as well. I just hoped that Blake didn’t ask me why I was always wearing the same clothes. I paid quickly and without incident and ran back outside, where Blake was waiting for me with a huge scowl on his face. We walked to the coffee shop in silence. Blake was striding ahead of me, and I could tell he was mad at me. I felt my heart beating fast, and I was really worried. I wanted to call Gayle, but I knew she would say it was my own fault. And I started to think that maybe it was. Maybe it was time for me to grow up. As I walked to the coffee shop, I thought about all the drama in my life in the last few months: being signed up for a marathon because I lied about going to the gym, pretending I had written a book when I hadn’t even written a word, countless bad dates from online dating, and thinking Blake was in the CIA coming to recruit me. Even I wouldn’t recruit me for the CIA. Maybe my imagination was too active, and I didn’t have enough of a backbone to say no. And maybe I had a problem with white lies. I resolved to myself that I was going to change. Blake and I ordered our coffees, but then the cashier waved her hands when we asked what the cost was. She beamed at me and whispered, “There’s no way I could charge you, Mrs. Cooper.” She winked at me, and I smiled weakly, glad that Blake hadn’t heard. “Oh, thanks.” I walked away to join Blake, and she called out to me in a singsong voice, “Please just let him know I’m his biggest fan.” “Will do.” I smiled back at her and kept my eyes averted from Blake’s. Okay, I knew I was in trouble, and I wasn’t sure what I was going to do about it. Somehow, half of England thought I was married to Bradley Cooper, and it wasn’t in my dreams.

7 Dear Diary, I have had to take drastic measures. I’ve gone and dyed my hair blonde. And well, I quite like it. They say blondes have more fun, and I’m hoping that will turn out to be true. I am planning on a big fancy dinner with Blake and then a night of seduction, which I hope finally seals the deal. I’m also planning on singing to him, a la Marilyn Monroe and her Happy Birthday song to JFK. I’m still trying to decide if it should be in the hotel or at the restaurant. I just want to make sure that Blake’s focus is 100% on me and not the celebrity whores who might hound us because I’m fake-married to Bradley Cooper. I bought two boxes of L’Oreal dye to make sure the blonde took to my hair. I’d tried to go red a couple of years ago, and my dark hair hadn’t changed at all. I had been so disappointed and frustrated because I had told a guy I’d met online that I had red hair and I didn’t want him to think I was a liar. It turned out that I didn’t care that I had shown up on the first date with my regular dark brown hair, because he was a weirdo who thought he was the second coming of Bozo the Clown. He even wore a red nose on our date. At the time, I thought I was in a Stephen King novel and about to die. So this time I resolved that I was going to make sure that my hair went blonde. I needed it to; this was going to be my foolproof way of making sure no one recognized me. I’m not even sure how Madeline or her mom had gotten the photo of me, but it was quite uncomplimentary, with big, bushy brown hair. No one would think I was Maggie Cooper if I had long blonde tresses. I sat in the bathroom doing my nails while I waited for the dye to take to my hair. I had poured both bottles into my hair and done an extra layer of streaks to give myself a more sun-kissed look. My scalp was starting to itch and burn, and I bit my lip. I didn’t remember it burning before, but maybe that was because I did it wrong. Halfway through, I decided to pour some bleach I found in the bathroom on my hair as well, just in case the dye didn’t work. I knew for a fact that bleach lightened things. I had plenty of colored clothes with white spots, thanks to me throwing them in a whitewash.

I waited another 15 minutes before jumping into the shower. My scalp had really started stinging, and I just couldn’t take the pain anymore. I guessed I could be a dark blonde for now; I didn’t need to have the white-blond hair of Daenerys Targaryen from ‘Game of Thrones.’ I conditioned my hair and sang some of my favorite tunes while imagining Blake’s jaw dropping when he saw me later in the evening. I giggled to myself as I pictured myself as the slinky—well, somewhat slinky—blonde bombshell crooning to my man. I was busy laughing to myself as I got out of the shower and started drying myself. And then I looked in the mirror and screamed bloody murder. “Oh, my gosh!!!” I screamed again, blinking rapidly, hoping that something was wrong with my vision. For there, reflecting back at me, was a monster with green hair and white blotches. My hair looked like the skin of an anemic alien that had chicken pox. “Oh, my God, Oh my God!” I jumped back into the shower and grabbed the bottle of shampoo and poured half of it on top of my head and started scrubbing. It didn’t help that my poor scalp cried out in pain as my fingers scrubbed. I didn’t care. I just needed the green to be gone. After about 15 minutes of hardcore scrubbing, I got out of the shower with my eyes closed, too scared to look in the mirror. “Ok, count down to one, Maggie,” I said to myself, trying to remain calm. “10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5.” I opened my eyes quickly, too impatient to wait until I got to zero, and started screaming again. If anything, my hair looked worse. The green reminded me of some sort of mutant vile fluorescent green, and I pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t in a dream. I dragged my clothes on and ran to the bedroom, panicking. “Maggie, you there?” I heard Blake’s voice through the door as he knocked on it. “Uh, yeah.” “Can I come in for a moment?” “ Um, just a sec.” I ran to the bathroom and wrapped the towel around my head. “Coming.” I walked to the door slowly and opened in casually. “What’s up?” I said as I popped my head out the door.

“Can I come in, Maggie?” He raised an eyebrow at me, and I opened the door widely. “Well of course, you can come in anytime you want.” “Thanks.” He looked at me oddly, and I stopped pacing around like a crazy person. “So what are you up to?” “Just relaxing,” I smiled at him brightly and sat down on the edge of the bed. He came and sat next to me and took my hand. “I wanted to let you know how happy I am that you came on this trip with me, Maggie.” Blake stared into my eyes, and I felt my heart starting to melt. “It means a lot to me that you trust me so much, and I know I’ve been busy and preoccupied lately, but I wanted you to know how happy I am to call you my girlfriend.” “Really?” I looked at him in surprise. “I thought you were fed up with me.” “What?” he laughed. “Well, it would be hard to not be fed up with you and your antics every once in a while, but that’s part of the reason why I like you so much, Mags. Life is never dull with you around.” “I guess not.” I stared at his lips and decided to lean over and kiss him. He tasted sweet and I found myself licking his lips. “Did you just have jellybeans?” He laughed. “Yeah. Good taste buds.” We fell back onto the bed, and I felt his arms go around me. OMG, this is it, I thought. We are finally going to consummate this relationship. I closed my eyes and was leaning into him, waiting for him to ravish me, when I felt the towel fall off of my head and then heard Blake swear. I opened my eyes and looked up to see Blake in convulsions of laughter. “What happened to your hair, Maggie?” he gasped out between his laughs. “What do you mean?” I sat up and frowned at him. It certainly wasn’t a

chivalrous of him to take this much delight in my hair. “I don’t know if you knew this, Maggie, but your hair is green.” “It’s meant to be blonde,” I sighed. “What?” He cocked his head at me. “Did you read the box wrong?” “No, but I think there may have been something wrong with the dye.” I paused. “Maybe we should sue.” Blake looked at me seriously. “Do you really think it was an issue with the dye, Mags?” I looked at him carefully and thought for a moment before answering softly, “Maybe not.” I sighed. “I guess it was user error.” “Oh, Maggie.” Blake burst out laughing again and took out his phone. “What are you doing?” I looked at him suspiciously. “I’m taking a photo.” He grinned as he clicked the shot. “This is too precious a moment to not be photographed.” “No, Blake, no,” I groaned and reached for the phone. He pulled it away from me, and I scrambled over him, trying to get the phone from his hands. “Blake, delete that photo now!” “Or what?” He pinned me down to the bed so I couldn’t move, and I wriggled against him. “I’ll get you back,” I snarled at him as my cheeks flushed at being so close to him. “Yeah?” He wriggled his eyebrows at me and leaned down to kiss me. “You and what army?”

“Hmm,” I sighed with bliss as he continued kissing me and I felt him lift my Tshirt off. “That’s what I thought.” He grinned down at me as I pulled his T-shirt off. Then Blake proceeded to have his wicked way with me. I lay there afterwards in his arms feeling content and happy. Then I wailed, “I wanted to look like a blonde bombshell for our first time.” “Does it make you feel better to know that you are the bomb?” Blake smiled at me. “Huh?” I looked over at him in confusion. “You just rocked my world like only a bomb could do.” “You are soo corny, William Blake Connor.” I hit him in the shoulder and smiled as I relaxed into his arms once again. I was happy and content, and my Bradley Cooper drama was the furthest thing from my mind.

8 Dear Diary, Something big is going down. And it’s not big as in there was a coup in some western country or big like someone nominated me for a Nobel Peace Prize, though I expect that to happen at some point in my life. It’s big as in I am in a hell of a lot of trouble, and I’m not sure how to get out of it. I woke up feeling satiated and happy. Blake had been everything I could have hoped for and more in the bedroom. I stretched and realized that Blake wasn’t there and grabbed a sheet over me and walked to the bathroom to see if he was showering. He wasn’t there, and I wondered where he was. He hadn’t dined and dashed with me being the juicy meal, had he? I shook my head; that wasn’t Blake. He would never do something like that to me. I waited with my sexiest pose in the bed for about 15 minutes before I realized that he wasn’t coming back anytime soon. Maybe he’d gone to get me breakfast in bed and had gotten distracted by a call from work. I decided to go and shower and frowned at my reflection in the mirror. My hair looked a hideous mess. I definitely had to go to the hairdresser. I was drying off when I heard Blake coming back into the room. I ran out in my towel and stopped at the look on his face. He looked madder than I had ever seen him in my life. And he was holding a paper in his hands. I swallowed hard. Please, God, don’t let that be what I think it is. Please please. I walked over to him slowly and tried to smile at him but he was looking at me with murder in his eyes. “Maggie Lane, do you know what I saw in the papers this morning?” “A good story?” I smiled at him winningly. He didn’t smile back. “I saw a very interesting article.” He paused. “And did you know, your name was mentioned. And get this, there was also a photograph.” “Oh.” I felt the color leave my face. I was in for it. “You don’t seem surprised, Maggie. Why is that?” He walked over to me and held up a cover of the paper. There was a photograph of me under the headline: “Is This the New Mrs. Bradley Cooper?” “Oh my.” I covered my face with my hands and gulped. I didn’t know what to tell him. I made a mental note of the author of the article, Holly Matthews. I was pretty sure that was Madeline from the plane’s mother. “Is that all you have to say, Maggie?”

“No.” “Or are you going to tell me that my girlfriend is actually married to a famous movie star?” “No.” At least he still called me his girlfriend, I thought to myself. I quite liked it when he said that. I didn’t think that this was the time to tell him that, though. “Is that all you are going to say, Maggie?” He frowned at me. “What is going on? I had a normal life before I met you.” “It was a mistake.” I made a face at him. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far. I swear.” “You never mean it.” Blake looked away from me. “I can’t deal with this, Maggie. When are you going to grow up?” “What’s that supposed to mean?” I was defensive and scared. “You act as childish as you did at 14. I can’t date a kid, Maggie.” He sighed. “I can’t keep bailing you out of one outlandish scenario after another.” “I see.” My voice sounded raspy. I knew tears were about to fall, and there was no way I wanted him to see me crying. “Do you?” He grabbed my hands and pulled me close to him. His eyes were full of sadness. “You are really special to me, Maggie. I just don’t think I can be your guardian and boyfriend.” “Who asked you to be my guardian?” My voice rose as my heart started thumping uncontrollably. I could feel impending doom. “Maggie, I’ve always had to be that person. Whether you asked me or not. Bad dates. Bad bosses. Bad decisions.” “What bad decisions?” “Signing up for a marathon?” “Oh.” I kept my mouth shut. What could I say to all that? It was true. He was right; he had bailed me out on several occasions. “Maggie, I’ve known you a long time. I want you to be in my life forever.” He paused. OMG, he’s going to propose, I thought. I couldn’t believe it. Maybe my luck was really changing. He continued, “But I don’t know if a relationship is going to work out between us.” “Yes,” I spat out eagerly. “Wait, what?” I frowned at him and felt my body start to shake. “You want to break up with me?” I cried out. “I don’t want to, Maggie. I just don’t think you and me is going to work.” His eyes were pleading with me. “But we just started dating. We just had sex.” I heard the words coming out

of my mouth but they didn’t seem like me. “I’m sorry.” He looked agitated. “I have to do some work, Maggie. I can’t deal with this right now. This is meant to be a business trip for me,” he sighed. “Can we talk about this later?” “So you are telling me we are not boyfriend and girlfriend anymore?” I ignored his question. “Well, I don’t generally date married women.” His voice was dry. “But you know I’m not married,” I cried out. “But no one else in England does.” He raised his eyebrows and me, and I felt an overwhelming urge to punch him. “I was tricked.” “Really?” “Kind of,” I sighed. In all honesty I had seen something like this coming. I only had myself to blame I guess. “Fine. Go. Do whatever.” I walked away from him. “I’m not going to hang out, Mags.” He grabbed me and turned me around to face him. “I’m going to work. On a multimillion dollar case. A case that was able to pay for this trip.” “Oh well thank you, sire.” I curtsied at him. “Oh, Moo-moo.” He pulled me into his arms and hugged me. “Let’s talk about this later, please?” “Are we no longer boyfriend and girlfriend?” I asked again, needing to know our ‘official’ status. He sighed. “I don’t know, Maggie. Give me time to think.” “Okay.” I bit my lip to stop myself from begging him to give me another chance. I knew that words meant nothing at this time. If anything, he might dump me faster if I seemed too whiney. Typical guy. “Have fun at work.” I beamed at him and walked back to the bathroom and slammed the door shut. “I’ll see you later, Maggie.” Blake called out to me as he left the hotel room. “Bye,” I shouted. “Asshole,” I whispered under my breath before I burst into tears and sank to the bathroom floor, leaning back into the door. “I hate you, Holly and Madeline Matthews,” I muttered under my breath, only feeling slightly bad that I was hating a kid. I was only trying to be nice on the plane, and they went and took my kindness and twisted it so that now my boyfriend hated me. After I cried for a good ten minutes, I jumped up, determined to fix the root of the problem. I was mad that Blake was acting so funky towards me, but I was actually motivated by something else. If the tabloids kept it up, I was on my way to being sued for libel, or defamation, or whatever it is big stars sue for when someone lies about them. I didn’t have any money to pay a big lawsuit. Shoot, I

barely had enough money to buy the lingerie I likely wouldn’t even get to wear. I pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater and rushed out of the hotel. I needed to find a yellow pages and then I could go from there. I was going to find Holly Matthews and let her know in no uncertain words what would happen to her if she didn’t print a retraction in the newspaper.

9 Dear Diary, Do you know how much a Chanel handbag costs? The cheapest one costs thousands. I should know; I’ve been searching eBay for years for a real one. Years, I tell you. So, I mean, what would you expect me to do if I came across a huge sale and Chanel handbags were included? I mean, how could I resist? Though it seems that I may have a Chanel handbag and no boyfriend now. Sigh. The lobby had several yellow pages, and I was lucky because the front desk clerk helped me write down the names and addresses of all the Holly Matthews in London. And let me tell you, there were quite a few. I was able to scratch off quite a few names, though, because I called and put on a kid’s voice and asked to speak to Madeline. Of the people who answered the phone, none of them knew a Madeline. I also crossed off the addresses of those with voicemails who sounded old or single, or whose recordings included names of every family member and excluded a Madeline. I had five Holly Matthews’ addresses to visit, consisting of three phones that just rang out, and two whose voicemail was the standard phone company greeting. I never understood why some people never personalized their voicemails. I mean, my current voicemail was a duet between myself and Michael Jackson singing, “We Are the World.” I figured that anyone who knew me would recognize my voice and know they had the right number, and in the off chance that a record producer called, well, he’d hear me and offer me a deal. Not that it had happened yet, but you never know. I ran out of the hotel feeling energized and excited. I even had my iPad with me so I could write on the bus to each house. Blake would be proud of me, taking advantage of every opportunity to write. I looked at the first address on my list; it was in a place called Herne Hill. It sounded quaint, but I sure hoped that the house wasn’t situated on the top of a hill. That would suck. I hadn’t been to the gym in a while, and I wasn’t really feeling up to hiking up any hills. “Hi, excuse me please.” I walked up to an old man at the bus stop. “Do you know what bus I take to get to Herne Hill?” “Where?” He looked at me in confusion; he had a deep accent from somewhere like New Zealand. “Herne Hill?” I smiled at him winningly. “Where, mon?” He frowned and scratched his scalp. I watched him, mesmerized by the length of his dreadlocks.

“Herne Hill?” I paused. “Perhaps it’s near the hilly part of London?” “Me no know what’cha saying, mon.” He shook his head at me. “I’m sorry. I’m from America. I guess it’s hard for us foreigners to be understood.” I laughed at him. He just looked at me blankly. Maybe he’s a bit slow, I thought to myself. “How long have you been in London?” I spoke slowly. “I guess you must be missing New Zealand right now?” “Carry your rass.” The man turned to his friend. “Who dis girl tink she is?” I thought that it was quite rude of him to talk as if I wasn’t there, but I figured I would try one more time. “Do you know where the visitor’s center is?” This time I addressed his friend, who was looking at me with laughter in his eyes. “Girl, me no know what’cha talking ‘bout.” He had the same accent as the other man but was wearing a ‘Made in Jamaica’ T-shirt. “Forget about it.” I sighed and walked away from them. This was going to be a long day if I couldn’t even get to the first house. I walked into a store and decided to approach a young lady this time. “Excuse me?” I waited for her to look at me and I smiled. “Do you know where a village called Herne Hill is?” “Huh?” She looked at me, baffled. “What top are you looking for?” “I’m not looking for a top. I’m looking for a house in Half Moon Lane, Herne Hill.” “Oh, hold on.” She turned around. “Nick, can you come and help this lady?” And with that she walked away. I had half a mind to ask her if she knew who I was. If she knew I was Bradley Cooper’s kind-of wife, well then she’d be much nicer to me. “Hi, can I help you, ma’am?” A handsome young man, who I assumed was Nick, addressed me. “Yes, is it possible for you to tell me how to get to Herne Hill?” I smiled politely and crossed my fingers. “Oh sure,” he said pompously. “I’m from Dulwich.” “Oh okay.” I paused, having no clue where Dulwich was. “Let me think.” He whipped out his phone. “I think you’d be best served going down to Brixton first. Yeah, so take the tube to Brixton on the Victoria Line and then take the number three bus to Herne Hill and get off by the park.” “The park?” “Brockwell Park.” He looked at me like he thought I was stupid. “Try not to skiv off and go to the Lido, though.” He laughed. “Though I don’t know if it’s open right now.”

“Um, okay,” I smiled quickly. “Thanks. I’ll try not to go to the library.” What sort of people were these Brits that they went to the library instead of doing their jobs? “The library?” He looked at me in confusion. “Nothing.” I walked to the front of the store quickly. “Thanks again.” I walked quickly to a subway station, thinking it shouldn’t be too hard to find the Victoria line. I knew my way around subway stations. This, I could make work. I got to the subway station and looked at the map. There were colors all over. Which one was the Victoria line? Finally, I figured out it was the blue one and looked for Brixton. It took me about five minutes, but I found it. I went and bought a one-day travel card and hopped onto the subway. I whipped out my iPad and started typing. I couldn’t think of anything to write about in my YA fantasy novel, so instead started writing down what I was going to say to Holly when I saw her. I had a few choice words for Madeline as well, but didn’t really think it would be proper to go off on a little kid. Getting off the subway at Brixton was like entering another world. This was not the London I had become accustomed to in the west end. South East London, according to the map, was a lot more urban and boisterous. It reminded me of my apartment in Los Angeles. This was where the real folks lived, away from the glitz and glamor. I walked up the steps out of the station and looked around. There were hundreds of people walking around, and I quickly had to get out of the way so I wasn’t hit. Okay, I’m looking for the number three bus, I thought to myself. There were at least three different bus stops right outside the station, so I went to check them out first. I wasn’t planning on shopping, but the huge red “SALE” signs beckoned to me from across the street. It didn’t hurt that the brands that were on sale were luxury brands like Louis Vuitton, Michael Kors, and my beloved Chanel. I figured I didn’t have much to lose. I could just cross the street, check the sales out quickly, and then run back across the street and head to Herne Hill. It seemed like the perfect plan. I’d never heard of Morley’s before, but it looked like a bigger “Ross.” I walked in expecting to be spritzed with perfume and greeted by well-coiffed women, but there was no one at the door waiting to greet me, and frankly, the place looked a little unkempt. But I figured that was how they had to have sales on items like LV and Chanel. I ran up to a sales clerk. “Where are the Chanel bags?” I was gasping, worried that all the bags would have been sold out. “Chanel?” “Yes, the ones in the sale?” Was everyone in England dumb?

“Oh, the Chunnel?” She pointed into the corner. “They’re over there.” I didn’t even bother saying thank you. I just ran and ran until I got to the bags and then I searched through the bargain bin like the police were after me. It did pass my mind that it was a bit odd for LV, MK, and Chanel handbags to be in a bargain bin, but who was I to second-guess the English? I finally unearthed two Chunnel bags. I did wonder why they said Chunnel instead of Chanel, but I figured they had a different trademark in England. But I was getting them for a deal. They were only one hundred pounds each, way less than the $1,500 they were asking for in the States. I bit my lip as I studied the bags. I didn’t have much money in my bank account, and I didn’t have any income coming in anytime soon, but I just felt like the bags were such a steal. I looked at the Macy’s card in my wallet and sighed. I doubted Morley’s was going to accept my store credit card from Macy’s. I decided to go and get a bite to eat in the store café before making up my mind. I ordered a cheese and onion pastry and a cup of coffee. I sat there and wrote down my expenses as I contemplated which of the bags to get. As I sipped on my coffee, I started playing Temple Run on my iPad and got sidetracked from my decision. “Excuse me, ma’am, we’re closing in ten minutes,” the cashier called over to me, and I jumped up. I had been sitting down playing the game on my iPad for the last two hours. “Darn it. Can I pay for my handbag here, please?” “Sure, ma’am.” I jumped up and pushed both handbags into her open hands. I didn’t have time to make an executive decision right now. I figured I could always sell one on eBay and make a nice profit to boot. “This is such a good deal,” I beamed at her. “I love Chanel.” “Chunnel.” She looked at me with an odd look. “This is Chunnel.” “Yeah, yeah,” I grinned. “Whatever they call it here. Back home a Chanel handbag costs over a thousand dollars.” “I see.” She folded my bags in tissue paper and put them in a plastic bag. “Here’s my card.” I crossed my fingers as she swiped it, hoping that it would go through. I was going to be super broke, but at least that would stop me from buying junk food. “Here you go, ma’am. Thanks for shopping at Morley’s.” The cashier handed me my bags, and I breathed a sigh of relief. “No, thank you.” I grabbed the bags and hurried out of the store. It was getting dark, and I still hadn’t been to the first house yet. I sure hoped Holly and

Madeline lived in Herne Hill. I thought someone was looking out for me, because I saw a number three bus pulling up to the bus stop as I exited the store and crossed the street. I got on the bus with my Chanel handbags, feeling very happy.

10 Dear Diary, I’ve never been a fan of the police, but I think the police in England have got to be a lot meaner than the police in the States. Do they not know what trespassing means? And do they really think I look like a robber? And why do they use the term robber? Shouldn’t they use the official term of thief? I’m going to ask Blake the legalities of it all. I’m definitely suing them and suing Holly Matthews. I’d sue that little brat, Madeline, as well, if I could. But maybe I’ll hold off for a bit – just to see if Ollie calls me. I told the bus conductor that I needed to get off by Brockwell Park in Herne Hill, and he was kind enough to let me know when to get off. He pointed down the street and told me to walk under the train track overpass to get to Half Moon Lane. I walked slowly, enjoying the look of this town. It was quaint. The kind of place that I would like to live with Blake and a bunch of kids; if he hadn’t already dumped me. I walked past a pub and some stores and pulled out my paper to see what number I was looking for. I walked past Stradella Road and then Winterbrook Road; there was a church at the end of Winterbrook Road, and I wondered if I shouldn’t pop in for a quick prayer before going on to see Holly Matthews. But I knew I didn’t have time. I finally came to the address that was on my paper, and I looked up at the house. It was cute. Actually, it was more than cute. It was homey and grand at the same time, a tall brick house with a gorgeous front garden. I could see lights on, and I walked up the pathway to ring the doorbell. “I’ll get it,” I heard a young girl’s voice running towards the door, and my breath caught. It sounded very familiar. Could it be that I got the right address the first time around? “Hello.” Madeline opened the door, and I grinned at her like the Cheshire cat. YES! “Hi, Madeline. Is your mummy here?” I waited for her to recognize me and beam with happiness that her new friend from Hollywood had come to say hello. “Who are you?” She frowned at me. “It’s me, your friend.” I smiled at her gently, hoping to prod her memory with my soft smile. “I…” “Help, there’s a stranger here to kidnap me!” Madeline screamed and ran away from the door, leaving it wide open. I didn’t want to say anything, but I

wondered if she was a bit slow, having not recognized me and thinking I was a kidnapper but leaving the door wide open as she ran. She was either slow or stupid. I stood, smiling at the open air like a fool, and decided that I should walk in and explain the situation. It’s not like Holly Matthews wouldn’t recognize me. I mean, she was the one who had leaked the story of me marrying Bradley Cooper. She owed me! “Hello,” I called out as I walked in. “It’s me, Maggie Lane.” I walked past a rather messy living room and down the corridor to what I assumed was going to be the kitchen. “Hello, Madeline, it’s me Maggie, also known as the kidnapper.” I laughed in jest at my joke and screamed as I felt someone come up behind me and twist my arm. “Who are you, and what do you want?” a man’s voice growled at me, and I yelped in pain. “Ow, watch it!” I screamed out. “I just came to visit Holly and Madeline.” The man dropped my arm, and I turned around, jaw dropping. He was gorgeous. Holly had done well for herself; he looked more around my age than hers. He had golden blonde hair and hazel eyes that stared at me meanly. “I’m sorry, Mr. Matthews.” I apologized to the sex god who was standing in front of me. “Richards,” he corrected me. “Sorry, what?” I looked at him in confusion. “I’m Oliver Richards.” “Um, sorry.” “Sorry for what?” It was his turn to look confused. “Sorry Holly didn’t take your name, and I’m guessing she didn’t give it to Madeline, either.” “Uncle Ollie, why would I have your name and not Daddy’s?” Madeline looked up at her uncle with big bashing eyes. “I have no idea, Maddy.” He stuck his tongue out at his niece and then looked at me. “I’m Maddy’s uncle, Holly’s brother. Holly and Luke are out to a show right now.” “Oh.” I sighed, though I did feel a tinge of happiness to hear that he wasn’t Holly’s husband. “When will they be back?” “Not until later.” Ollie stared at me with keen eyes. “Why’d you want to see them?” “Well your sister printed some lies about me,” I started, before the front door came crashing in (I had been smart enough to close it, unlike Maddy). Three policemen came running through the door. “Hands up, hands up!” they screamed at us. “Hands up!”

I reluctantly put my hands up and wondered if there was some sort of drug bust going on. It wouldn’t surprise me. It did seem that Holly was a shady sort of character. It was just my luck to get involved with her. “Who’s the trespasser?” “She is!” Madeline screamed and pointed at me before falling to the ground in sobs. “She came to kidnap me! Save me, save me!” I stared at her with my mouth agape at her theatrics before a policeman grabbed me. “Ma’am, why are you here?” “Wait, what?” I looked at them with a beguiling look. “That little brat is lying. Ask Ollie.” Ollie looked at the scene in front of him and he looked like he was trying not to laugh. “Um, Officers there has been a mistake. I called the station prematurely.” “So this lady is not trespassing?” “Trespassing?” I looked at them indignantly. “I am just here visiting these liars. I think the whole family are liars frankly. Can you arrest them for that?” The policeman looked at me like I was the crazy one and started to leave. “Sir, please call us if you need help.” “Yes, I will. Thanks.” Oliver walked with them to the door and closed it behind them. Madeline stood up gracefully and ran to the kitchen, singing a nursery rhyme. I stood there in shock, wondering what had just happened. “Your whole family is crazy, huh?” I frowned at Oliver. “Madeline is a little drama queen, if that is what you’re asking,” he grinned, and I noticed that one of his front teeth was slightly chipped. “A little drama queen? She’s crazy.” I sighed. “She could have had me arrested.” “Well, to be fair, you did just walk into the house uninvited.” “She left the door open.” “She’s a kid.” I bit my lip and kept the words “a stupid one” to myself. I didn’t think Oliver would appreciate me slagging off his young niece. And yes, ‘slagging off’ is an English term; I learned it from watching an English show called ‘EastEnders’ in my hotel room. I sighed. “When will Holly be back? It is of vital importance that I speak to her.” “Well, I suppose after all this, you can have a beer with me, watch some TV, and wait for them to get back.” “Thanks,” I smiled. “I’d like that.” I followed him to the kitchen and took the Foster’s Lager he handed me, deciding that it would be too much to ask him if he

would be able to make me a cocktail instead. My nerves were frazzled, and I felt like I needed a really stiff drink that was sweet enough to hide the taste of a killer, super strong liquor. “So, can I ask what is so important?” Oliver asked me as we settled into the couch. I noticed he was sitting quite close to me, and I wasn’t sure if I should tell him that I had a boyfriend, though I didn’t really know if I did. “Your sister printed a story saying I was married to Hollywood heartthrob Bradley Cooper and that I was a star myself, and it’s not true.” I paused. I didn’t really want him to know why she got the idea that it was true. “Hmm,” He looked at me in surprise. “Why would she do that?” “I have no idea.” I crossed my fingers quickly. “Hmm,” he said again. “That’s weird, and if it’s not true, she could get in a lot of trouble for libel.” “I promise I won’t sue.” He laughed. “I think she would be more concerned that Bradley Cooper was going to sue.” “Oh. True.” I looked at the clock on the wall and yelped. “Oh my. Is that the time? I have to go.” I jumped up off of the couch. “I seriously can’t stay any longer. Can you please tell Holly what I said, and ask her to print a retraction?” “Okay.” He looked at me oddly. “Do you have a phone number for me to call?” “Yeah, you can call me here. Ask for Maggie Lane’s room.” I wrote down the hotel’s number. “Okay, Maggie Lane. I’ll be in touch.” He walked me to the door and then shook my hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Maggie.” He leaned forward and kissed my cheek and I walked away, dazed and confused, with a warm feeling in my stomach. A handsome Englishman had kissed me; I thought I was floating on cloud nine as I walked down the street. He didn’t know me or owe me anything, and he had kissed me, albeit on the cheek, and he had my number. I walked to the bus stop, grinning like a fool, and didn’t think about Blake at all on the way back to the hotel.

11 Dear Diary, The whole Bradley Cooper husband debacle has been cleared up. Thank God. Though Blake doesn’t seem to have gotten out of his bad mood. Not that I care anymore, though. He’s an idiot. I’m going to focus my energies on Oliver, who is so clearly not an idiot. He may even be cuter than Blake, if that’s possible. And guess what – he’s a writer as well. It may be that he’s my soul mate. Ha! It would serve Blake right if I dumped him before he decided what he wanted to do about our relationship. I got back to my hotel room late. I was worried that Blake was going to be super worried and ask me where I’d been, but he was nowhere to be seen. He certainly wasn’t waiting for me in my room, and he didn’t come banging at my door to see where’d I’d been. In fact, he hadn’t even left a message for me with the front desk or a note on my door. My good mood was gone as soon as I realized that Blake hadn’t even missed me. Ha, I wondered what he’d think if he knew a sex god had kissed me? I debated going to his room to tell him, to see his reaction, but I wasn’t so sure the jealousy route would work well with him. He’d likely just dump me, and that wasn’t what I wanted. And it had only been a kiss on the cheek, so it wasn’t like Ollie was a true backup. I lay on my bed sulking and decided to send an email to Gayle, to see how she and Ben were doing. I was hoping to get back some sort of bad response. Not so bad that they had broken up – but maybe they were fighting like me and Blake. Maybe Ben Bonkers had slipped up and asked someone else out. I frowned as I typed away, ashamed of myself for hoping that my best friend was also going through a bad patch in her relationship. I reread my email to make sure it didn’t sound like I was hoping to hear about some sort of catastrophe on her side: Hey Gayle, What’s up? I’m here in sunny London. Hahaha. What they say is true. It’s pretty gray and rainy here, but I love it. I am having soo much fun. What about you? How is LA? Miserable without me? HAHA. How is Ben Bonkers? I hope he is staying true to you! Blake and I are good. We did it! Shh! I know. It was great. I think he put the love in lover. I hope Ben is as good in bed as Blake. Not that I care, lol. Though Blake and I are kind of on a break right now. Long story – I’ll tell you later, but let’s just say Bradley Cooper is to blame. Sign up for any

new marathons as yet? I think I’m going to join Weight Watchers, as I want to lose weight. I’m going to look online to see if any of the other suckers have posted the plans on a blog so I don’t have to pay the monthly fee! ☺ So I met a cute guy today – he is English, his name is Oliver and he looks like a sex GOD. Can you remember the name of the book that we read that talked about sex gods again? I may want to reread it. Talking of books – mine is coming along slowly. I think I’m going to start a new book and forget the kids’ and YA stuff. Maybe I’ll write a dating book ‘How to Marry a Millionaire.’ Do you suppose people will have expected me to have married a millionaire first, though? If so, how hard do you think it will be for me to marry one before the book comes out? Help me find one, yeah? As I think Blake and I may be done. Anyways, email me back before I eat a whole cake. Maggie I bit my lip as I read the last part. It did seem to me that Blake was done with me. It just seemed so unfair. How could he want to dump me already? I went to log onto Facebook when I heard a knock at my door. “Maggie?” Blake’s voice called through the door. “Are you still up?” I grinned and ran to the door and opened it slowly and looked at him with a feigned tired expression. “Yes, can I help you?” I yawned. “I just wanted to say hi before I went back to my room.” He smiled at me, and I noticed he was still in his suit. “Are you just getting back from work?” I said incredulously. “Yes.” He yawned. “It’s been a long day.” “Oh.” I paused. My heart wanted me to ask him if we were still boyfriend and girlfriend but my brain told me that would be a bad idea. He’d had a long day and didn’t need to deal with the juvenile me right now “How has your day been?” “Fine,” I smiled. “I wrote quite a bit.” It wasn’t technically a lie. I had written, just maybe not that much. “Great.” He looked at me and raised his hand to tuck a flyaway hair behind my ear. “I should get to bed.” “Oh, okay.” I stared at him with my heart fluttering. “What are you doing?” “I was just writing, actually.” And about to go on FB and stalk you, I thought in my head. “Wow,” he smiled. “I guess I should leave you to it.” “You can come in and watch TV if you want.” My voice was soft, fearing rejection. “I might fall asleep.”

“That’s okay.” I suddenly felt shy. “If you can sleep with the TV on.” “That I can.” He grinned. “Let me go change and have a shower, and I’ll be back in about ten minutes.” “Okay.” I laughed happily. Ten minutes to shower and change? He was definitely all man. But was he still my man? I debated changing into one of the sexy negligees I had bought before the trip. I didn’t want to come off as desperate, plus, what if he fell asleep? I’d never feel sexy again. I ran to the bathroom and brushed my hair and then reapplied some light makeup to my face. Nothing too sirenish though, I didn’t want to look washed out. “Maggie?” Blake pushed open the door just as I had finished changing. I had on a tank top and a pair of boy shorts. I figured I could try and look as sexy as possible without him thinking I was trying to seduce him. “Hey, Blake. Make yourself comfortable,” I called out to him as I finished up in the bathroom. I walked out and found him lying on top of the bed in plain white T-shirt and a pair of navy blue boxer shorts. He looked sexy, and if I had a lot more confidence or alcohol in my body, I might have just jumped on him. As it was, I sauntered over to the bed as sexily as possible and stopped by the side of the bed. “What are you watching?” I sighed, a bit annoyed; he hadn’t watched me as I walked over to the bed. Instead he was flicking through the channels. “Just looking for a good movie or some sports.” He finally grinned up at me, and his eyes crinkled. “Why are you wearing your top inside out?” “Huh?” I looked down and saw the label sticking out. “Oops.” I turned around, pulled my top off, and pulled it back on the right way. Then I jumped on the bed and lay down next to him. “Is soccer okay?” Blake stopped the channel on a match, and I smiled and nodded. “That’s fine.” I picked up my iPad and waited for him to make a move on me, wondering if I should tell him about my day. I wasn’t sure how he would react, so I decided to keep it to myself. “So, have you thought anymore about us?” I couldn’t stop the words from coming out of my mouth. He looked over at me and sighed. “I’m sorry, Maggie. I had a busy day.” “Oh.” I bit my lip, but the words came out anyway. “So are we together?” “I don’t know. Can you give me some more time to think about it?” “Sure.” I turned my back on him and opened the Angry Birds app on the screen. Within minutes, I heard Blake snoring, and I turned back around and saw that he was sleeping. I stared down at him with affection. He looked adorable. He would always be my gentle and adorable Blake, whether or not he felt the

same way about me. I grabbed the remote and changed the channel to ‘Love Actually’ and sat back and enjoyed a good laugh and cry as I watched one of my favorite movies.

* * * I had barely turned off the TV and cuddled into the blankets before I felt Blake’s hands around my waist. I turned around to see if he was up and wanted to have some fun, but I soon realized that he was still asleep. Well, mostly asleep. “Night-night, Maggie Moo-moo,” he mumbled at me, and I leaned over and kissed him. He pulled me towards him and I snuggled into him, warm and happy that Blake wasn’t completely furious at me. I fell asleep listening to the sound of his heartbeat and had dreams of Blake and Oliver chasing me around a park. I awoke the next morning in a sweat and was pleased to find that I was still in his arms. “Morning, Moo-moo,” he grinned and kissed me on the forehead before removing his arm from under me. “My arm’s killing me. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up for ages.” “You could have moved me.” I frowned at him and pulled away, hoping he wouldn’t try and kiss me. My breath didn’t taste too righteous and didn’t want to get my morning breath all over him. I had a feeling that wouldn’t help the cause of us staying together. “I didn’t want to wake you.” He laughed. “You’re not exactly a teddy bear.” “What does that mean?” “Well, you’re not a baby eh, you’re a grown woman with the weight of one.” “Oh, my God, are you calling me fat, Blake?” I growled at him and sat up. “I can’t believe you would call me fat.” “Maggie,” he sighed. “I’m not calling you fat. I’m just saying that you are not as light as a teddy bear or a feather. If I would have moved your body, I would have woken you up.” “Sorry for not being stick-thin.” Blake rolled his eyes and got out of the bed. “And here I thought I was being nice.” “Yeah. ‘Wake up, fatty, you’re crushing my arm’ is a nice way to greet someone,” I shouted grumpily. “Well, good morning to you, too, Maggie.” Blake stared at me and sighed. “I really don’t know what your problem is, Mags.” “Maybe I’ll go to the gym and start a celery diet so you can have the princess

you want.” I glared at him. “What?” He looked at me like I was crazy, and for some reason, that set me off even more. “Maybe, once I lose 100 pounds and look like a paperclip, you’ll decide you want to be my boyfriend and will ask me to model my sexy lingerie.” I jumped out of bed and ran to my suitcase and pulled out the sexy nightgowns I had bought. “Maybe you’ll want to be my man when I look like a string-bean in one of these?” Blake started laughing, and I glared at him with all the venom I could muster. “What’s so funny?” “The fact that you think I’d want to date a string bean.” He stopped laughing as he saw that I was furious. “What’s the problem now, Maggie? Did you just wake up on the wrong side of the bed again?” “Why do you think I’m upset? I’m in some no-man’s land where I don’t know if my boyfriend still wants to be my boyfriend anymore.” “It’s just a label, Maggie,” he sighed. “When did you become the crazy girlfriend?” “I’m not crazy.” “I don’t have time for this, Maggie. I don’t want to deal with this right now.” “Well, I want an answer.” I pointed him in the chest. “Why is it always the girl waiting on the guy?” “You want me to tell you right now if I want you to be my girlfriend?” Blake frowned. “Are you really sure you want me to make a decision now?” “Yes.” I folded my arms across my chest and tried to ignore the rumbling in my stomach as I stared at his angry handsome face. “I want an answer now.” “Then no, Maggie. I don’t want to be your boyfriend. I don’t think a relationship between us is right at this time.” He bit his lip. “And now I have to go get ready for work.” I stared at him in shock. Even though I had pretended that I thought Blake was going to dump me, I really hadn’t thought that he would. Blake was my one. At least he was meant to be. We were meant to be together. I thought we were soul mates or whatever that person was for people like me. I thought he would tell me that nothing could ever break us apart, but here we were, not a few weeks after we had started dating, and we were over already. I turned my face away from him and made the bed. “Maggie, are you okay?” He walked up to me and touched my shoulder. His words were soft and full of concern. As always, he was the perfect, caring man. And it made me hate him even more. “I’m fine!” I shouted and jumped away from him. “I’ve got a Chanel bag and

I’m going to go out.” “What?” I heard confusion in his voice. “Nothing.” I turned around and faced him as soon as I made sure no tears were going to fall from my eyes. “I’ve got a new Chanel bag and I’m going to work on my book today.” And hopefully Oliver will call, I thought to myself. “I’m glad you’re going to work on your book.” He smiled at me kindly. “You know I don’t want to hurt you, Maggie.” “Yeah.” Whatever! “I won’t be as busy when we get to France.” “We’re still going to France?” I frowned. “When?” I didn’t want to go to France now that I had met someone else in England. “In about a week,” he grinned at me. “Aren’t you excited?” “Not really.” “Oh, Maggie.” He drew me towards me and rubbed my hair. “You’re incorrigible. Let’s talk later, okay?” “Yeah. Sure,” I mumbled. I stood there obstinately not smiling and he looked at my face with a small smile before leaning in to kiss me. He paused and scratched his head before pulling back. “Maggie, have a good day. We’ll talk later, okay?” “Yeah. Bye.” I turned around and walked to the bathroom and slammed the door as Blake went back to his own room. I had no idea how he managed to make me feel this way. I was upset and hurt, but I was also starting to think that I was partially to blame for what had happened. Hadn’t I pushed him when he was upset and mad? Didn’t Cosmo always say that you should never push for a talk about your relationship when the guy was in a bad mood? I was pretty sure I had violated all the rules of relationships. And the mere fact that I had been soo concerned about being boyfriend and girlfriend. Hello, High School called and they wanted me back. I sighed as I stared at myself in the mirror. I was fated to always being pleasantly plump, completely overdramatic, and most probably single. I’d die with Lucy by my side (hopefully she lived that long), some frozen pizza in my freezer, a cupboard full of chocolate and cake mixes, and five started but unfinished books. To top it off, I’d be living in Gayle’s basement, and would have to listen to her and Ben making love all day and night. Oh, what an awful life I had in store for me. I grabbed my toothbrush and sighed. Today was the day I’d start over with my diet. No more French fries for me. I’d make the healthy choice from now on – broccoli or spinach, all the way. Maybe I’d even get broccoli and spinach; that would show everyone. No longer would people look at me in horror when I ordered French fries with my cheeseburger, with a regular Coke, and chocolate

cake for dessert. No longer would I think I’d hear them whispering about me and my choices. From here on out, I’d see the respect in their faces at my choices. Maybe I’d even become a vegetarian. And then Blake would be begging me to get back together with him. He’d wish he hadn’t dumped me so unceremoniously then. I was going to lose all the weight once and for all, and I was going to show everyone that a new Maggie Lane was finally here: strong, smart, sassy, and thin. With a cool Chanel bag, to boot.

* * * I walked back into my room after my shower with new verve and purpose and smiled when I saw the flashing light on the phone. I ran to it, thinking that perhaps George Clooney was on the line, wanting to take me on a hot date. Maybe he’d seen my photo in the paper and wanted to date me. It wasn’t George, but I was still pretty happy as I answered the phone and listened to the message. It was Oliver and he had explained the situation to his sister and she was going to issue a retraction. Yay! I wasn’t going to be sued. And the best part was he asked me out for lunch – today, if I was available. I just needed to call him back and let him know. I felt slightly guilty at my joy. Kinda like a slut. But it wasn’t like I was going to sleep with Oliver, and it wasn’t like it would be an issue if I did anyways. Blake had dumped me. Cruelly and coldly. He didn’t care about me. So why should I care about him? It wasn’t like I wanted to be in his arms all day and all night. It wasn’t like he was the first person I called when I was sad, happy, or needed help. It wasn’t because when he laughed at my jokes, I felt like the funniest person in the world. I tried to ignore the feelings of guilt as I wrote down Oliver’s number so I could call him back. Blake had been the love of my life for so long that I wasn’t sure if I really loved him and wanted to be with him, or if I just loved the idea. Maybe we really weren’t made for each other. He had dumped me pretty easily and quickly. I mean, if he had really loved me, he would have stayed with me and we could have talked over our issues. I sighed and jumped back onto the bed and hugged his pillow to me. It smelled like Blake, and I inhaled deeply. I realized how much I missed him as I lay there. I just wanted my friend back, the one who was there to support me through thick and thin, no matter what happened. Maybe he had done us both a favor; maybe we should just go back to being best friends. Maybe we weren’t cut out for being more. Maybe Oliver was the one for me. I had always fancied English men, and I knew all the words to Oliver Twist.

Maybe that was a sign. Maybe we could sing songs together. And he could move to Los Angeles to see how the relationship went. I was starting to warm to the idea as I ignored the gnawing pain and stress in my stomach. And what was lunch? It was nothing. But at least I’d be able to see if we were meant to be.

12 Dear Diary, Did you know that all English people don’t absolutely adore ‘Oliver Twist’? And that many of them haven’t met the Queen? I mean, I know I haven’t met President Obama, or President Bush or President Clinton, but still. I‘m talking about the Queen here. If I lived in England, I would try and make sure that I at least had tea and sandwiches with her. How fancy would that be? Twining’s tea with cute little cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off. I would likely have to go to McDonald’s afterwards because the sandwiches would be unlikely to fill me up, but what a story for me to tell while I was ordering my chicken nuggets and fries. They’d most probably be so impressed, that they would supersize me for free and ask to take a photo with me and stuff. I figure I’d make a better Englishman that most Englishmen. Oh, and Oliver is swoon-worthy. So, I have to admit that I was only kind of excited to call Oliver back. I was happy to speak to him, but I was still feeling a bit bad about Blake. He had really hurt my feelings, but instead of doing the sensible thing and thinking over everything that had happened and asking for another conversation, I decided to jump right into another relationship. Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. One date with Oliver didn’t a relationship make, but I did have a guilty feeling when I dialed the numbers and agreed to meet him for lunch. As I got dressed, the fat blues hit me, and I blamed it on karma. Nothing I tried on looked good. It just didn’t seem fair. Gayle could wear skinny jeans and look skinny. I wore skinny jeans and I still looked like I had thick thighs and biker calves. Even my normally slimming black V-top made me look and feel pudgy. I almost wanted to cancel the date or lunch or whatever we were calling it. As I put on my makeup, I pulled up YouTube on my iPad (thank you, Blake) and practiced singing different songs from Oliver Twist. “Consider yourself at home, consider yourself…” Damn, I thought to myself as I went to meet Oliver, I had already forgotten the words to the song I was going to say I loved the best. I guess I would just have to throw in a witty and cool way to say to the waiter, “Please, sir, may I have some more?” I was giggling to myself as I walked into the restaurant. And I have to admit, my heart was beating fast as I saw Oliver. He turned towards me with a huge smile, and I walked towards him with as confident a walk as I could, feeling as dowdy as I did. He was wearing a blue and white rugby shirt, with faded blue jeans. His blond hair looked blonder than

ever, and I wanted to ask him if he dyed it. I’d never thought a guy in England could get such golden tresses, with the lack of sunshine they had here. “Hi, Maggie Lane.” He greeted me with a hug, and I hugged him back eagerly. “Hello, Oliver Richards.” I smiled at him, while groaning inside. I thought it was a bit weird to be using last names in a greeting. “Good to see you.” I grinned, and we sat down. I looked around a little disappointed. It looked to me like we were in a health food store. Everyone was eating wraps and salads, and I couldn’t see any burgers or fries anywhere. I tried to keep my sigh to myself; I knew I was on a diet, but I figured I could have one last burger before I really said goodbye to all oily foods. “Well, this looks like a great place to eat,” I lied. “Thanks, it’s one of my favorites.” He smiled at me kindly. “I know how you Americans are into your healthy eating.” “Uh, yeah.” Not me, I thought. “They have great alfalfa and spinach sandwiches.” “Ooh, sounds yummy.” I tried to fake a smile as a waitress brought over two menus. “Would you two like to start off with our green juice today?” she asked us in a bored voice. Even she knew that this food sucked, I thought. “Green juice?” I asked her inquiringly. Was that green because it was apple juice or because it was more alfalfa and spinach? “Yes, ma’am. Our fresh juice has broccoli, lemon rinds, spinach, kale, and carrots.” She smiled at Oliver as he made a happy sound. “That sounds delicious. I’d love one,” he grinned. “Any other fresh juices today?” I asked, my voice weak. I could feel all hunger and thirst leaving me. “We also have our carrot, orange, ginger, and celery juice.” She looked at me again, and I knew that she knew I had no interest in any of these healthy juices. There was no way that anyone who was a size 12 or higher was a health food nut. She knew it, and I knew it. “I’ll have the green juice.” I smiled at her smarmily. Take that, bitch, I thought. “I only hope it’s as good as the ones I make before I go to the gym every day.” And another point for me, I thought. I saw the waitress give me a look up and down, and I knew she was wondering what gym I went to, because it wasn’t doing a great job. “And we’ll order in a minute, thanks.” Oliver dismissed her and turned towards me. “I guess you go to the gym a lot in the States, huh?” I nodded, not wanting to actually speak a lie.

“That’s one of the things I love about you guys; you are all so healthconscious. Not like most of us Brits, who only want to eat sausages and chips.” “Well, you know. It’s just something that happens when you live in LA.” I smiled. “And I only really started going to the gym recently.” “You are so modest, Maggie.” He leaned forward. “This may sound funny because of how we met, but there is just something about you that makes me laugh.” “Well, I’d do anything for you, dear, anything; for you mean everything to me.” I beamed and giggled. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem as if Oliver recognized that song from Oliver Twist, because he looked at me like I was a bit off. “I’m just reciting a song from Oliver Twist,” I explained slowly. “Uh, okay?” “It’s a book written by Charles Dickens that was turned into a movie and a play.” “I know who wrote Oliver Twist.” He laughed. “I’m just not sure why you chose to randomly recite the words to one of the songs.” “Oh, it’s one of my favorites.” “Okay.” He turned to his menu. “I think I know what I’m getting, what about you?” I looked at the menu and tried to pretend that there were many items that looked appealing to me, as opposed to none. I didn’t want a vegetable sandwich or wrap. Not with a vegetable drink. I looked for the items on the menu that seemed like they would taste the least gross. It was between a cream cheese and Brussels sprout wrap and a mushroom and Brussels sprouts sandwich. Those were seriously the best choices. I honestly wanted to cry. “I think I’m ready.” I smiled, hoping that the Brussels sprouts were at least well-seasoned and roasted so that they were of a more crispy texture. “Want to share a seaweed salad?” “Sure.” No. I sighed as we placed our orders and hoped that I would be able to keep the meal down. “So what do you normally eat when you go out?” “Uh, sandwiches.” I smiled at him widely, not wanting to tell him I was a weekly pizza eater who loved to go through Taco Bell, KFC, and McDonald’s drive-thrus, and sometimes in the same night. “Ha, you Americans love sandwiches.” “I guess it’s because we are all practicing for when we meet the Queen.” “Which Queen?” Oliver looked at me with a frown. “I thought there was no monarchy in the States.” “Queen Elizabeth.” I wanted to add duh, but thought maybe we shouldn’t get

into an argument too soon. “So how many times have you met her?” “Met who?” His eyes crinkled, and he leaned back and scratched his head. “The Queen. Prince William’s grandmother,” I said slowly. “I’ve never met her.” He spoke matter-of-factly. “You haven’t?” “Have you met the President?” “Well no, but…” “Why would you think I have met the Queen?” He laughed. “You Americans are all the same.” “I take offense to that you know,” I pouted. “Maybe you should take offense to your question.” He rolled his eyes and our banter was interrupted by the food being brought to the table. It looked gross. I was none too happy – Oliver was being rude, and I was hungry and wanted a burger and fries. “This looks good, shall we tuck in?” He smiled at me cordially, and I was surprised at how quickly he had gotten over our little squabble. I was ready to keep it going. How dare he say that all Americans are the same? I didn’t say that all Brits had bad teeth and pale skin, did I? Hadn’t they heard of tanning salons? I mean, not everyone suited the English Rose look, if you asked me. “So what do you do, Ollie?” I asked as I chewed on a Brussels sprout that tasted like nothing other than a Brussels sprout. “I’m an artist.” He smiled at me, his eyes twinkling. “Artist?” “You know – like a painter.” “Oh, nice.” I tried to think of some famous painters’ names to drop in. “Do you like art?” “Yeah. I loved Andy Warhol.” I thought of the one artist I knew was pretty poppy. “He’s a popular artist.” He smiled. “I’m more of a Monet man myself.” “Oh, I like money, as well.” I smiled. “You like money?” He looked at me with a confused expression, and I felt myself blush. “I mean, I like having a lot of money so I can support my favorite artists. You know, the indies.” “The indies?” He raised an eyebrow at me. “The talented but unknown artists, like you.” I beamed at him, and he laughed. “I do imagine that certain philistines and ignoramuses haven’t heard of me.” “What?” I had a feeling he had just insulted me, but he had spoken so

quickly that I wasn’t sure if I had heard him correctly. “Nothing.” He pointed at me. “So which indies do you support?” “Ah, Blake Gayle.” The words tripped out of my mouth before I could think properly. “He’s famous in Los Angeles.” “Huh.” Oliver frowned. “Never heard of him.” His hazel eyes sparkled. “I guess he’s not on the same level as Bradley Cooper in terms of fame.” “No.” I looked down, embarrassed, hoping he wasn’t going to ask me about the whole debacle his sister had gotten me into. “You’re a funny one, Maggie.” He chuckled to himself and pulled his phone out. “Oh no, please tell me you’re not taking a photo of me for another tabloid,” I groaned. “I couldn’t take it if you were.” “No, I wasn’t.” He grinned. “I just got a text message and wanted to respond to it.” “Oh, sorry.” I wrinkled my nose. “My bad.” “That’s okay. Want to go to the park?” “What, now?” I put my fork down, happy to get away from the horrible meal. “Yes, now.” He pulled out some notes, placed them on the table, and jumped up. “Let’s go.” “Ooh.” I ran after him and left the restaurant, excited to go on an adventure with a handsome Brit. “So which park are we going to?” “Did I say the park?” He grabbed my hand. “Let’s go to a museum.” “Museum?” “Yeah. You can show me the artists you like.” “That sounds fun.” I groaned inside. I couldn’t imagine anything romantic happening in a museum. Not like in a park. He could grab me and give me a big kiss in the park. Or we could snog. That’s English for kiss. But snog sounded a lot cooler. “Or we could go to the trocadero.” “What’s the trocadero?” I was worried it was going to be something academic. “A computer arcade.” “Fun. Let’s go to the trocadero.” “Awesome. Maybe we’ll see some stars.” “Do you think so?” I said eagerly, leaning towards him. He laughed. “You really are an LA girl, aren’t you?” “Kinda,” I sighed. “What’s wrong, Maggie?” He pulled me to the side of the busy street and

looked at me in concern. “You’ve seem a bit worried. You okay?” I wanted to tell him about what had happened the night before with Blake, but even I wasn’t that stupid. I knew that would be the end of any possible relationship between us, if I went on about my ex-boyfriend. “I’m fine, thanks.” I faked a smile and he grabbed my hand. “Just because you’re not blonde and skinny doesn’t mean you’re not a fabulous girl, Maggie.” Ollie’s voice was earnest, and he looked at me in concern. I looked up at him in shock at his words. How dare he say I wasn’t skinny! Guys aren’t meant to say things like that. “You’re prettier than most of those plastic ladies anyway,” he continued before I could talk. “I, uh, I’m not sure what to say.” I wasn’t sure if I felt happy or mad at his comments. “I want you to know that I like you because you aren’t the typical LA bimbo.” “Yeah.” I frowned. “Wait, did you say you liked me?” “Yeah.” He grinned and kissed my cheek. “Hey, I’m sorry but I’ve got to go. My sister needs me.” “Oh, but what about the trocadero?” I looked at him with my best pouty face. “I thought we were going to play video games.” “Sorry, Maggie,” he said distractedly. “Maybe next week.” “I’ll be in Paris next week!” I shouted at him. He looked up at me and smiled then and whispered in my ear. “I guess I’ll be going to France as well.” And with that, he was gone. I watched him walk away with a huge grin on my face. There was something about Oliver that was soo perfect; yet I hadn’t really appreciated some of the things he had said to me, and I didn’t really appreciate the way he had left me. I tried to brush the doubts out of my mind. What else did I have? Blake had dumped me and then ditched me. I felt tears well up in my eyes. I missed Blake. I wanted to call him and have everything go back to the way it used to be. I wanted to be his Maggie Moo-moo, and trust me, that was the first time I’d ever thought that. I sighed as I walked along the street and back to the bus stop. I didn’t have anything to do but go back to the hotel. As I waited at the bus stop, inspiration hit me. I had a new idea for a book, one that I honestly felt would work well. And the best part was, I was excited to write it. I scribbled down notes on a napkin I found in my purse and then started jotting down some notes on my hand as I ran out of space on the napkin. My stomach was grumbling as I got off the bus, but I walked past the McDonald’s and Fish-N-Chips shop quickly. Ollie’s words had really hurt me. I knew he thought he was being nice, but his comment about me not being skinny

had hit a bone. It wasn’t as if I didn’t know I wasn’t skinny. Of course I did. But hearing those words come out of a handsome man made me feel awkward and bad. I decided to stop in a Marks & Spencer’s instead and got myself an egg sandwich on whole wheat bread and a Ribena. I knew I should have just gotten water, but I had fallen in love with the English drink and decided I needed a little treat. I ran to my room when I got to the hotel and sat on my bed typing late into the night. My brain was so excited with my idea that it didn’t grow tired at all. And I was happy to see that I had gotten 5,000 words written down by the time I decided to go to sleep. I lay in bed smiling for a while until I realized that Blake hadn’t come in to see me at all. Not even to check up on me. As I curled over and went to sleep, I felt dullness in my heart that I had never felt before.

13 Dear Diary, There is a point in life where everyone grows up. Some people do it when they are 21, some are 10, and some are 40. You never know until that moment hits you and you think, WTF am I doing with my life? I had that moment today. I’ve been a real idiot, and I’m not sure what I’m going to do to fix everything. I woke up in a bad mood. I was mad that Blake hadn’t come to say goodnight or check to see that I was okay. What an asshole he was. It made me question if he had ever truly been interested in me. I started to wonder if he had been using me. Maybe he had only pretended to like me and had become my boyfriend just so he could take me to bed. I had gotten myself so flustered and upset by the time I went in the shower that I bumped my head against the wall as I dropped the soap and accidentally shaved some skin off my leg. “I hate you, Blake,” I mumbled under my breath as I brushed my hair. I tried to think of a way I could annoy him and hurt him just as much as he had hurt me. Or at least, think of a way to see if he had ever really and truly cared for me. I sat on my bed and pouted as I waited for him to come knock on my door for breakfast. It was 10 a.m. when I finally realized he wasn’t coming. I called down to the front desk to see if he had left a message for me, but there was nothing. I then logged into my email on my iPad and all I saw was a bunch of credit card bills. I sighed and closed my email and lay back on my bed with tears welling in my eyes. I was not going to cry. I had to make a plan. I needed to see if Blake really did like me or not. I had dreamt of Blake all night long, and I knew without a doubt that he was the one for me. How could he not be, with everything we had gone through together? I just needed to know whether I should move on or fight for him. I was lying on the bed with a growling stomach when an idea hit me. Maybe I would bring Ollie around and wait in the lobby so Blake would see us when he came in. If he were jealous, then it would mean that he really did care about me; but if he didn’t

seem to care at all, that would mean that he just wasn’t really that into me. I wasn’t sure if my plan was smart or foolproof, but it was a way for me to see how much I meant to him, in the easiest way possible. First things first, I needed to go to the gym. I ignored my growling stomach and threw on a T-shirt and pair of shorts. I called down to the front desk to find out where the gym was, and then made my way up to the penthouse floor. I felt excited to be going to the gym. For once, I was doing this for me. Well kinda. For me and for Blake. I opened the door to the gym and held my head up high. I was expecting to see a bunch of hot businessmen working out, but instead, an old granny walking on a treadmill greeted me. “Hi,” I smiled as I got onto the treadmill next to her. “Hi, dear.” She smiled back at me. “I hope you don’t mind, I’m watching Trisha.” “Trisha?” I looked at the TV screen and saw a show I didn’t recognize. I watched it for a bit and laughed. “Oh, she’s the English Maury.” “Yes, dear,” she laughed. “Maury’s on next.” “Oh, he is?” I started the treadmill and laughed. “Hopefully one of them will be the father today.” “Here’s to hoping,” she laughed, and I grinned back at her. This granny was making me feel like an Olympian. As she walked at 1.5 miles an hour, I felt like a Kenyan, walking at 3.0 miles per hour. I almost felt guilty for showing her up. Even though there was no one else in the room with us. “So, are you an American, dear?” She peered at me as I changed the speed to 3.1 miles. “Yes. I’m from Los Angeles.” “Where all the stars live?” she grinned at me.

“Yeah, though I don’t really know any.” I paused. “Well, I kinda nearly did.” “Oh?” “My old boss and I were nearly on TV,” I sighed. “But not for anything good.” “Oh. I dare say you’ll get something better.” She smiled at me gently. “I’m a writer.” I felt myself opening up. “Well, I’m trying to be. It’s my life’s goal. Only, I can’t seem to finish a book. And now my boyfriend has gone and dumped me. And I left my job. And now this cute English guy said I’m not skinny.” “Oh, dear. This does sound like an episode of Corrie, doesn’t it?” She paused her treadmill and turned towards me. “What say we go and get a cuppa and have a talk?” “Er, yeah.” I smiled at her widely, hoping my beam would hide my confusion. I had no idea what Corrie or a cuppa was. “Can I just finish on the treadmill first?” I asked politely. “Of course, dear. Let’s watch Trisha and Maury and then go reward ourselves with a cuppa tea and some biscuits.” “Ah, yeah, that sounds good.” My stomach growled loudly and I blushed. “I’m Maggie, by the way.” “I’m Anne. Anne Parker.” “Nice to meet you, Anne.” All of sudden I felt like a second wind had passed through me and I started running on the treadmill, my sneakers were going faster than the track was moving, so I bumped it up to 4.0 miles. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to keep up for very long and had to pause it while I caught my breath. “Dearie me, Maggie, you are going fast. I feel like I’m next to a track star here.”

Anne giggled, and I smiled widely at her. “Sorry, I am training for a marathon.” I paused and sighed. “Well, not really, but I kinda was, last year. It’s a long story.” “Did you do it?” “No.” I looked at her with a shamed face. “I feel like I say that a lot lately. I’m always saying something, but it never seems to be true.” “Aw, dearie, we all go through something like that.” “I’m such a loser.” I felt tears falling from my eyes. “Such a loser.” “You don’t look like a loser to me, honey.” Anne stopped her treadmill and drank some water. “I’m just a big fat liar.” Please say I’m not fat, I pleaded in my mind. “Oh, dearie. You are a beautiful young lady. I think you are just a bit troubled, my dear.” I frowned and looked at her. “Do you think I’m mental?” “Oh dear, not mental,” she smiled. “Trust me, I know mental. My brother was in an institute for ten years.” She paused. “I think you’ve just got to that point in your life where you are wondering what you’re doing in life. We all get there, my dear. At some point, we all get there.” “So what should I do?” I cried out. “Only you know the answer to that, honey.” “I was going to try and make him jealous with the other guy.” “Is that really a good idea?”

“No.” I laughed through my sobs. “No I don’t think it is.” “Good girl. I think you’re growing up.” “I don’t want to grow up.” I frowned and wiped away my tears. “I just want Blake to love me like I love him.” “You love the young man?” “Yes,” I gulped. “Yes, I think I do.” It hit me like a ton of bricks. I loved Blake. I wanted him to love me. I wanted him to be mine forever. And the father of my children. And I’d pushed him away. “He liked me even when I wasn’t skinny.” I laughed. “And I mean more not skinny than I am now.” “So what are you going to do about it?” “I don’t know.” I got off the treadmill and sighed. “I don’t think using Ollie to make him jealous is the answer.” “Wait a second, Maggie.” Anne smiled at me. “Jealousy is a good way for a man to realize his true feelings for a woman.” “But wouldn’t that be considered playing games?” I frowned. “Depends on what you do.” She grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the door. “Now let’s go change and then grab a cuppa and figure out a way for you to get your young man.” “That sounds like a good idea to me,” I smiled brightly at her, happy that once and for all, I was going to be an adult and find out if Blake wanted to be with me forever.

14 Dear Diary, My new friend Anne Parker is bossing me around like she is my evil stepmother. At times she seems to be nice and sweet, but she keeps throwing in little barbs at me that make me think she doesn’t necessarily have my best interests at heart. She spied on me when I went to go meet up with Oliver in Selfridges (a store much more impressive than Macy’s) and made a comment that she was surprised that I could have gotten such a hot man. I thought she was quite rude. “Go and get me some tea and sandwiches,” Anne ordered me as soon as Oliver had walked to the restroom. “Can’t you do that yourself?” I frowned at her. “I think it will look funny if Oliver sees me bringing you something, seeing how I don’t know you.” “I guess I can go myself, but I try not to walk too much in my old age.” “Anne, what are you talking about? I met you at the gym.” “Oh, you youngsters,” she moaned and stood up. I turned away quickly as I saw Oliver walking back to the table. “That was fast.” I smiled at him, feeling guilty. “You know us men,” he laughed. “I had a great time today, Maggie. Thanks for calling me to come meet you.” “Oh, I’m just happy you could come at the last moment.” And frankly, I was surprised he had answered his phone. I hadn’t thought our last date had gone so well. “How could I say no to my American friend?” he laughed. “You are a very good man, Oliver.” I hugged him hard as he got ready to leave. “I want you to know how very glad I am to have met you.” “Well you’ll be seeing me tomorrow.” He laughed. “No need to act as if I’m on my death bed.” “I know.” I smiled. “I just wanted to say that I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done.” And are going to do, I thought. Though I couldn’t say those words aloud, as he had no idea I was going to be using him the next afternoon to make the guy I really liked jealous. “Well, you know.” He blushed and looked down. “It was nothing.” “No it was everything,” I gushed. “What if Bradley Cooper had sued me?” “He’d be lucky to have a girl like you.”

Anne started coughing at that moment, and I glared at her at the next table. I knew what she was thinking. Bradley Cooper wouldn’t even give me a second look. I knew that, of course I did, but it was quite rude of her to think that, as well. “So I’ll come to your hotel tomorrow then?” “Yes. I’ll see you then.” I smiled as he walked away and thought about how funny life could be. Just a year ago, I would have been beside myself if a man like Oliver had even given me a second glance. “He’s a very handsome man, isn’t he?” Anne looked at me in surprise. “A regular blond god.” “Yes, he is very handsome.” I frowned. I didn’t really like her tone, nor what I felt was an insinuation that he was too good-looking for me. “An Oxford boy, I suppose?” “Huh?” I looked at her, confused. “And Eton?” “Eating what?” I had no idea what she was talking about, and she shook her head in disgust. She had fast gone from being my sweet older friend from the gym, to a mean old shrew, though I would never call her an old shrew to her face. I felt like I’d given her too much information now. I was scared that she would become a double agent and do something to ruin my plans. “So he’s going to come to the hotel tomorrow?” she questioned me. “I do feel sorry for the poor lad, but it least now he can move on to someone more suitable.” “He’s coming,” I said in a tight voice. And I had thought there were bitches in Los Angeles. They had nothing on the elderly women of England. Nothing at all. I supposed Downtown Abbey should have warned me. “Good.” “Yes, I hope everything goes well.” “It will. At least for Oliver.” She paused as she saw my face and patted my hand. Her fingers were cold, and I tried not to cringe. “And for you, dear. And for you. You’ll get your American lawyer, and you can both live happily ever after on the farm.” “What farm?” “It’s a saying, dear.” She sipped her tea and leaned back. “The farm. The ranch. Wherever you yanks live. Go and pay and I’ll be ready by the time you get back.” “What?” I said under my breath as I stood up and sighed. I was as close to broke as anyone could be without being overdrawn, and I was annoyed that I had to pay for her tea, sandwiches, and cookies. I was even more annoyed because

my Chanel bag was already falling to pieces. The strap was hanging by a hair on one side, and the black leather was starting to look green. “I’ll be back.” I paid for Anne’s food with my last twenty-pound note and wondered what I had gotten myself into. Anne had come up with a plan that would see me in the lobby with Oliver, sitting close together on a couch. I would then lean in to kiss him when Blake walked into the lobby, and hopefully he would see us together, go into a jealous rage, beg me to take him back, and declare his love for me. I wasn’t really sure if I could see any of that happening, but it seemed like a good plan. I mean, stuff like that always happened in movies, so why couldn’t it happen to me?

15 Dear Diary, There is a saying that talks about the best-laid plans going awry. Or maybe the plans of mice and men? I’m not sure, exactly, but let’s just say a granny, a Blake, and an Oliver don’t mix. Not at all. And now I’m beginning to wonder if the problem isn’t me. Maybe all of these schemes are at the root of my problem? I don’t know. But I do know that life never ends up going the way you expect it to. “There’s something you should know, Maggie.” Ollie’s voice sounded a bit anxious, and I was praying he wasn’t going to tell me he was married. Not that I really cared, but it just seemed wrong that I wanted to involve a married man in a scheme to get my erstwhile boyfriend back. “Hit me.” “What?” He looked at me in shock. “It’s an expression.” I rolled my eyes at him. How dumb were these Englishmen? “I don’t want you to hit me, as in make me black and blue, I want you to tell me what you need me to know.” “Um, I think you have the expression wrong.” He grinned and I stared at him in silence. “Well, anyway, I need you to know that it wasn’t me who got my sister to retract the story.” “What?” I frowned. “Don’t tell me she did it out of the goodness of her heart?” “No.” He laughed. “I don’t know many gossip reporters who do anything out of the goodness of their heart.” “Can you two hurry it up, please?” Anne interrupted us as we spoke in the hotel lobby. “We have more important things to be talking about.” “Yes, Anne.” I kept my voice even, but I wanted to tell Anne to shut up. She had been annoying me ever since the day before and how she had acted at Selfridges. I had wanted to tell her to butt-out, but she now seemed to think she was in charge of my life and was telling me what to wear, what to do, and what to say. I think she felt like she was living through me or something. Reliving her youth. I wanted to tell her to butt-out, but even I wasn’t rude enough to be mean to an old person. Oliver looked at Anne with a puzzled look on his face and turned back to me. I knew he knew something was up when I had introduced her as my ‘new friend’

(who happened to look exactly like the stranger that had been at the table next to ours the day before). “So, yeah, a lawyer contacted Holly. Told her he would sue her for libel on your behalf unless she retracted the story.” “No way,” I frowned, confused. “Yes, he said that unless she had proof you had said anything, she had better retract, because he was pretty sure Bradley Cooper wasn’t going to back up the story, and then it would be the word of her young daughter against yours.” He laughed. “Well, that gave Holly a fright, and she retracted.” “Wow.” “He told her not to say anything about his call, but she told me, and I thought you should know before you decided to get into a relationship with me under false pretenses.” “A relationship?” I gawked at him. He wanted to be in a relationship with me? I had thought he just wanted a bit of holiday fun. I paused for a second and wondered if I should just forget the whole thing and date him instead. “Do you want to share some curried tofu?” He grinned at me as he looked at the takeaway menu for a local Indian restaurant that I had given him. “Uh, no thanks.” I tried to hide my grimace. But at least he had reminded me why a relationship would never work. Not that my heart was with him anyway. “Who was the lawyer that called your sister?” Anne butted in. She really was turning into a nosey parker. I nearly laughed as I realized I’d made a fun joke out of her name. I was pretty sure she wouldn’t appreciate it, though. “Blake something?” Oliver frowned. “I’m not really sure.” “Blake?” I felt my face pale. “Blake called your sister to help me with the retraction?” “Is that your man, my dear?” Anne looked at me with a content look on her face. “Yes,” I whispered, oblivious to Oliver’s astonished look. “I can’t believe he helped me after everything that happened.” “Er, who’s Blake? You know him?” “Blake’s the man Maggie is going to marry,” Anne interjected. “Marry?” Oliver jumped up. “What’s going on here, Maggie?” “Well, I uh…” I paused, glaring at Anne. “Oh sit down, dear boy, and don’t get your knickers in a twist. We just need you to kiss Maggie as her beau comes in, and then you can get in a fight and leave.” “What?” Oliver and I both exclaimed at the same time. “That’s not the plan, Anne,” I sighed. “We’re just meant to be holding hands.” I nodded at Oliver. “And you can put your arm around me if you want.”

“Is this a joke?” Oliver looked around the room. “Am I on Candid Camera or Jeremy Beadle or something?” “Jeremy who?” It was my turn to be confused. “Just a silly man with a silly show.” Anne coughed. “Now get a little closer to her now, Oliver.” “What?” Oliver stepped back. “Who are you, by the way? I still haven’t been properly introduced.” “I’m Anne.” “Anne, the –?” “Anne Parker.” She glared at him. “And who are you to Maggie, Anne Parker?” “She’s Anne Nosey Parker.” I attempted to lighten the mood with a joke, unable to resist my little vignette. “Excuse me?” Anne turned towards me with a snarl. “What did you just say, you ungrateful cow?” “Wait – what?” I looked at Anne and Oliver who were both glaring at me, and I wondered what had gone wrong so quickly. “Did you just call me a cow, Nosey Parker?” “How dare you!” Anne pushed me. “You don’t deserve any of these men.” “How many men are there?” Oliver frowned at me. “What’s going on here, Maggie?” “Yes, Maggie, what’s going on here?” I heard a familiar voice behind me, and I froze. Blake was back, and he sounded none too amused at that. I turned around slowly and took a deep breath. “Blake, there you are.” I smiled brightly at him and tried to inch him away from Anne and Oliver. “Who are they?” Blake looked at me with an amused frown. I knew what he was thinking: What mess has Maggie gotten herself into now? “I’m not really sure.” I bit my lip. “You deserve better than Maggie, Blake.” Anne walked up to us. “I met this lady in the gym and thought she was very nice, so nice I was willing to help her with her problems, but then she called me a Nosey Parker. How dare she when I went out of my way to help her!” “You wanted me to kiss another man! I don’t think that’s very helpful.” I glared at her, wondering how it was she could turn into an old shrew so quickly. “Maggie?” Blake took my arm and squeezed it. “Apologize to the nice lady for calling her nosey, yeah.” “Wait, what?” I frowned as Anne gloated at me. “Sorry, Mrs. Anne N. Parker.”

Oliver burst out laughing at my words, and I offered him a hopeful smile, but he glared at me in return. “I take it this is the boyfriend you wanted me to help make jealous?” “Well…” I wasn’t sure what to say. I was mortified, and my face was burning up in shame. We all stood there in silence until Blake cleared his throat. “Yes, I’m sorry for Maggie. She’s a little distressed about some things that have happened in her life recently. I am her boyfriend, Blake. Let me show you out and pay for a taxi back home for you both.” “I’m staying at the hotel,” Anne interrupted. “Well, why don’t I give you some money for a nice dinner to make it up to you?” “I suppose that could work.” She smiled at him sweetly, took the money, glared at me once more, and walked away. I was glad to see the back of her. And to think I had just been crying to her hours before about my misery. “Maggie?” Oliver interrupted my thoughts. “Do you want me to go?” He had a hopeful look on his handsome face, and I was surprised at how little it meant to me that he wanted to stay. I really didn’t have any genuine feelings for him. Nothing like what I felt for Blake. “Yes. I’m sorry.” I hung my head in shame. “I’m really sorry.” “I’m confused.” He smiled at me gently. “I thought we really got on at lunch, but my sister did warn me to stay away from you.” He shook Blake’s hand and walked out of the hotel. I stood there, waiting for Blake to chastise me or go off on me, but when I looked up, Blake was grinning at me like an idiot. “What’s so funny?” I questioned him curiously. “You are, you goof,” he laughed. “I don’t know how you do it, but you always seem to get yourself into one ridiculous situation after another.” “You’re not mad?” I asked hopefully. “Of course I’m mad. I’m furious.” “Oh.” “But I’ve changed my mind about one thing.” “Yeah?” “I do want to be your boyfriend again.” “Really?” I grinned at him and ran into his arms. “Are you kidding me right now?” “No. I was angry when I told you it was over. I never really meant it. So I guess I was playing a game there, as well. I want to be honest in our relationship, Maggie Moo.” “Me too, Blakey-wakey.” I stuck my tongue out at him.

“Shall we go upstairs to the room?” He wiggled his eyebrows at me and slid his hand across my bottom. “Hey.” I jumped at his touch and giggled. “You just want to take me to bed.” “Among other things.” He smiled seductively. “Are you down with that?” “Yes,” I whispered excitedly. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I was afraid I was in the middle of a dream. “Don’t think you’re off the hook, though, Maggie.” He pointed his finger at me. “Tomorrow we need to have a very serious talk.” “Uh huh.” I grinned. “Let the pieces fall where they may tomorrow.” I laughed as we got into the elevator and he kissed me. I closed my eyes and pressed myself into him, happy that once again I was on his good side. We hurried to the bedroom and Blake hurried over to me and pulled me into his arms. His lips were on mine and his hands were all over my body and before I knew what was happening we were both naked and pressed up against each other. “You’re so beautiful, Maggie, every inch of you.” He pushed me back onto the bed and his his lips sucked on my nipples, before heading lower. I felt his tongue between my legs and I cried out as he licked me back and forth. It was almost too much for me to take. I’d been waiting for this moment for so long. “Do you want me?” He grunted as he kissed back up to me and positioned himself between my legs. “I want you, Blake.” I nodded and my hand reached down and grabbed his hardness and ran up and down his shaft. I smiled as he moaned in pleasure and his eyes gazed into mine with such desire that I felt myself coming with just his look. “Good.” He kissed me and then I felt him entering me, so hard and deep that I screamed. He moved back and forth inside of me so skillfully, that I prayed that the moment would never end. I held his head close to mine as we both came together and he collapsed next to me on the bed, grinning. “I think I was a good teacher because this was the best reward I could have gotten.” “You’re a goof, Blake.” I said as I kissed him and he laughed. “I love you, Maggie.” His eyes were filled with emotion. “Oh how I love you.”

16 Dear Diary, Today is a brand new day. I am a brand new me. Life is worth living. The birds are chirping. The dogs are barking. The sky is blue. McDonald’s still has amazing fries, and I’m in love. And free to shout it to the world. “I can’t believe you went on a date with that guy.” Blake kissed the tip of my nose as we lay in bed together. “I wouldn’t really say it was a date-date.” I smiled at him sweetly. “I mean, he took me to a health food place to eat.” “Thank God.” He grinned. “If it had been a steak place, you might not be here right now.” “Funny.” I poked him. “Of course I would.” “You can’t be sure of that. Maybe you and Ollie would have run off and gotten married.” “No, Blake.” I rolled my eyes. “How can you be so sure?” “Well, because I…” I paused and ran my hands over his chest. “Because I just am, okay?” “I love you, Maggie.” Blake whispered in my ear, and I gasped and looked up at him. “What?” I shrieked. “I love you,” he grinned. “If we’re being obvious, I thought I should tell you. I’ve loved you for a while now.” “No way,” I grinned at him deliriously. “Oh, my God, this is crazy.” “Um, no response?” He poked me in the stomach. “Why hello, of course I love you, you doofus.” I grinned up at him. “I have for ages. I just never thought you would love me.” “Why not?” He frowned. “Because I need to lose about 20 pounds and you are a bodybuilder.” Okay, so I lied, I needed to lose more than 20, but he didn’t need to hear exact numbers. “I’m not a bodybuilder, and I love your body, Maggie Moo. You should know that.” He kissed my shoulder. “Well, when you equate me with a cow, what do you expect me to think?” I said angrily.

“I’m not equating you with a cow.” He frowned. “Are we going to argue again so quickly?” “I’m not arguing,” I whispered, ashamed. “I’m just making a point.” “I know.” He kissed my nose. “And if you really hate it, I’ll stop.” “No more Maggie Moo-moo?” I said hopefully. “You can just be Maggie.” He smiled. “My Maggie.” “That sounds…” I paused and laughed. “I can’t believe I am saying this. But that sounds awfully boring. You can call me Maggie Moo-moo.” “What?” He exclaimed and laughed. “You do know that this is your only opportunity to stop me from calling you Maggie Moo-moo, right?” “What?” “From this day forward, I can call you Moo-moo without you complaining.” “I don’t know about that.” “Well…” A banging on the door interrupted Blake, and I groaned. “Oh no, you don’t suppose Nosey Parker is back?” “Oh, Maggie, only you could make friends with a crotchety old lady.” “She’s no friend of mine.” The banging continued, and Blake jumped up to open the door. “Blake?” Gayle’s voice poured into the room, and I pulled the sheets up quickly. “Maggie?” Gayle stood in the entryway to my door blinked rapidly. “You guys made up, huh?” “Yes,” Blake chuckled. “Let me guess: Maggie sent you a melodramatic email, and you rushed here to save her.” I felt myself going red at his words. It did seem like I always needed to be rescued. “Something like that.” Gayle frowned at me. “Gayle, I am sooo sorry.” I offered her a hopeful smile, and she rolled her eyes. “Uh huh.” And then she grinned. “It’s okay. Ben came as well, so we’re going to have a romantic week together.” “Oh, Gayle.” I wriggled my eyebrows at her and she laughed. “You shush, Maggie.” She laughed. “I’m going to go and tell Ben I didn’t find you in here sobbing your eyes out.” “Thanks for coming, Gayle.” My eyes welled up with tears. “It means a lot to me.” “Of course, Mags. Breakfast tomorrow?” “Yes. On me.” I groaned inwardly at my words and bit my lip in worry as Gayle left and Blake closed the door. “What’s wrong, my dear?”

“I can’t afford to buy anyone breakfast tomorrow,” I mumbled under my breath. “What, Maggie?” He frowned as he walked up to me. “I’m not sure what you just said.” “I can’t afford to buy breakfast tomorrow.” I looked down, embarrassed. “Oh no.” Blake sat next to me and grabbed my hands. “Are you having money problems, Maggie?” I nodded, embarrassed. “Kinda.” “Can I help?” “No.” My words came out louder than I wanted to. “No, but thanks,” I said softly. I could not take money from him, not after everything that had gone on already. “Maggie.” He looked pained as he paused. “We do really need to have a serious conversation. What’s going on with the book?” “I started a new one.” I paused. “One I think is pretty good.” “Really?” He looked at me in doubt. “I feel like you’ve started so many books and nothing has ever really come of it.” “I don’t blame you for not believing me,” I sighed. “Will you read some of it to me?” “Really?” I looked at him in surprise. “Yes. Really.” He smiled. “I told you I have some contacts in the industry. I want to help you get a publishing deal, Maggie. I want you to be making money.” “Hold on.” I grabbed my iPad off of the nightstand. “Let me read it to you. Promise to be honest.” “I promise.” He leaned back in the bed, and I opened the app and started reading. “Soul Mates, by Maggie Lane.” I cleared my throat, and Blake nodded his head encouragingly. “Chapter One.” I smiled self-consciously and began. I’ve always believed in soul mates. I just haven’t met mine yet. I’ve never even been in love. People tell me that at 18, I have the rest of my life to wait. But I don’t want to wait the rest of my life. I don’t even want to wait five more years. I’m ready now. Ready for the moment when my eyes meet his and I feel as if he has seen my soul and me his. I already know his voice and his name. Well, to be honest I know his voice, not his name. I made up the name to match the voice. But as the years have passed, I have a hard time remembering exactly what he sounds like. People used to think I was crazy. I suppose you’re just asking for that label when you tell someone you are hearing voices in your head. Only it’s just one person I ever hear, and that’s him. We used to talk every day when I was 15, but

when I got sent away, he stopped. I thought what they were saying was true, that the meds had taken away my craziness. And they released me. They said I started hearing the voice because my father had died. That it was my subconscious finding a way for me to survive. They told me that I imagined my father talking to me so I would think he was still alive. I knew better than to correct them. I never heard my father’s voice. It was his. It was Jacob’s. I paused and cleared my throat, scared to look up at him. I didn’t want to see a negative reaction on his face. But I couldn’t continue reading the book if he hated it. I didn’t want to deal with how I would feel if he hated the book. “Aren’t you going to continue?” I looked up as Blake spoke, and I saw a huge grin on his face. “I want to hear more.” “Are you sure?” I blushed, unsure if he was being honest. “I love it, Maggie.” His eyes sparkled. “I really really love it.” “You do?” I grinned back at him, my heart beating fast. “It’s not too sappy for you?” “I’ll be honest; it’s not something I would normally read, but I think it’s brilliant.” “You helped to inspire me.” I paused. “It’s a book about soul mates, but one of them is dead.” “Don’t ruin it.” He laughed. “Sorry.” I couldn’t get rid of the smile on my face. “You’re really talented, Maggie. Really talented.” “Thanks, Blake.” I put my iPad down and kissed him. “If you keep saying nice words like that, I think I’ll have to show you some gratitude.” “I never say no to gratitude.” He kissed me back, and we lay there laughing. “So I inspired the book?” “Yes.” “Because I’m your soul mate?” He lifted my face up so that he could stare into my eyes, and I blushed, nervous and embarrassed. “I think you’re my soul mate too, Maggie.” “You do?” I couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. I felt like I was in one of my perfectly delicious daydreams. “Yes.” He grinned. “Heaven knows that I certainly didn’t expect to fall in love with someone like you, but I can’t help myself.” “Fall in love?” My eyes were as big as saucers. This had to be a dream. He had said the words the night before but I’d been worried he had only said them because we had had sex. “Yes, my dearest Maggie. How could I not love you?” He traced his fingers down my neck. “You’re incorrigible, goofy, beautiful, funny, and the list goes

on.” “You can keep going on.” I smiled shyly. “And I’ll be beautiful after I lose about 20 pounds.” “You’re beautiful now, Maggie.” He put his finger to my lips. “Repeat after me.” “Okay.” “I am beautiful.” “I am beautiful.” “I have a gorgeous body.” “No, I…” “Shh, I have a gorgeous body that my boyfriend loves.” “I have a gorgeous body that my boyfriend loves.” “I am loved by many.” “I am loved by many.” “I am a talented writer.” “I am an okay writer.” “I am a brilliant and talented writer. Say it.” He fake-glared at me. “I’m a pretty talented writer.” “I guess that will do.” He kissed me again, and I melted against him, feeling the most content I had ever felt in my life. “Promise me you’ll remember that, Maggie.” “I will.” “And promise me that you will be disciplined and work on your book until it’s done.” “I will.” “No changing it to a YA book, or self-help, or romance, or mystery or whatever. Just write this book and finish it.” “It kinda is YA romance.” I grinned. “Just write it, Maggie.” “Yes, Pops.” “Shh.” He laughed. “If you say so, Blakey-Wakey.” “Shh.” He sat up and stared at me. “I want to sing a song to you.” “Oh?” “It’s one I wrote.” He seemed anxious. “It’s kinda goofy, and I just thought of it in my mind, but I want to sing it to you.” “Okay.” He grabbed my hands and held them, and I could feel my heart beating quickly. He cleared his throat a couple of times and started singing:

“There was a girl, Her name was Maggie And she filled up my heart to stop it sagging. I loved her since, She was a girl And now she’s a woman, I love her still. One thing I’m sure of, One thing I’ve always known, Is that I want you in my life for now and evermore. Say you love me, Say you want me, Say you know that we’re meant to be. There was a girl, Her name was Maggie, And she drove me crazier than a drunk a begging. She lights up my life, Like a million bulbs And no blackout Can stop her glow. One thing I’m sure of, One thing I’ve always known, Is that I want you in my life for now and ever more. Say you love me, Say you want me, Say you know that we’re meant to be. There was a boy, His name was Blake, And he loved that girl, whose name was Maggie. He loved her pretty much all his life. And he never stopped, even through all the strife. What he really wants is for her to be his wife. Oh say you’ll be his wife. One thing I’m sure of, One thing I’ve always known, Is that I want you in my life for now and ever more. Say you love me, Say you want me, Say you know that we’re meant to be.”

I stared at him with tears in my eyes. “That was beautiful, Blake.” “Do you love me, Maggie?” I nodded my head, suddenly shy. “Can you say the words?” “I love you, Blake. I’ve always loved you. You’re my everything, and I don’t know what I would do if I lost you. Probably I’d be a huge mess. I want to be more mature. Smarter. Quicker. Nicer. Funnier. I just want to be the best person I can be because of you.” “Maggie. I just want you to be yourself. Well maybe not completely yourself.” He paused. “I wouldn’t mind if you stopped getting yourself into silly, awkward situations. No dating other goofy men, or pretending to date. And no Bradley Cooper!” “Okay, no Bradley Cooper.” I laughed. Of course, if Bradley Cooper really came knocking at my door we would have to reexamine that caveat. “Marry me, Maggie.” He laughed at my shocked expression. “Be mine. Let me love you and take care of you.” “Are you sure?” “Of course I’m sure.” “Oh, Blake, I love you, too. Of course I’ll marry you,” I grinned at him. “On one condition.” “What’s that?” He looked at me suspiciously, mostly probably wondering what hair-brained scheme I had concocted. “Let’s get married in Paris, with Gayle and Ben there as witnesses.” “Are you sure?” “Yes, yes.” I kissed him. “I would love that.” He leaned over and whispered in my ear. “And then we can have our first French kiss.” I laughed, and he winked at me, and we fell back on the bed and did a lot more than just French kissing!

17 Dear Diary, I want to apologize that I haven’t written in you in such a long time. So much has happened in the last few months, I still feel like I am living in a real-life Utopia. Blake and I went to Paris and got married in the gardens at Versailles. Gayle and Ben were our witnesses, and we all stuffed our faces with bread, cheese, and wine afterwards. Blake surprised me with a Tiramisu cake as the wedding cake. It was as unconventional as our relationship, which is why I loved it so much. The biggest news is that Blake quit his job. He’s a writer now too! It turns out that he always wanted to write and that was why he always used to push me to do it. He wished he was doing it himself. We are finishing up my book on soul mates. Yes, we are writing it together, and it’s nearly done. Can you believe it? He’s a good motivator, and I love writing the book with him. You might even see it on the NY Times Bestsellers list in a few months, if it sells well. How great would that be? When we got back to Los Angeles, Blake and I got a place in Santa Monica, and we go running on the beach every morning. Okay, maybe not every morning but at least twice a week, and guess who we met a few weeks ago on the pier? Bradley Cooper! I thought my heart was going to stop beating, and I was going to faint. I couldn’t believe it was him. But he didn’t even glance at me. I didn’t even have a chance to wink or give him a seductive smile, which I think is just as well. I wouldn’t want to hurt Blake’s feelings by divorcing him if Bradley had asked me to be his. In other news, Blake and I are expecting. He doesn’t know it as yet, but I figure he’ll be excited. I couldn’t imagine a better dad for my kids than Blake. If they are ever in trouble, Blake will be able to get them out of it. So now I’m thinking of names for the baby. Something cool but not out there. So I might start writing in you again. To keep up with everything going on in this new exciting time. And maybe to jot down plans for the baby, like maybe having her star in a movie or commercial or even having her join the Guinness Book of World Records for being the first talking baby or something. We’ll see!

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Exclusive Excerpt from Dante My next book is Dante. Prologue “Tonight is the night.” Dante’s voice was husky as he unbuttoned his crisp white shirt, slowly. Holy damn, he was hot! “I’m going to do things to you that you’ve only dreamed of.” “How do you know I’ve dreamed of them?” I said as I stared at his long lithe fingers. “And how do you know I haven’t done them all already?” I winked at him and smiled to myself as he paused with his buttons and gave me a sultry look. I couldn’t help but stare at his tongue as he licked his lips like some hungry wolf that wanted to devour me. I swallowed hard and blushed as I thought about the things his tongue had done to me just a couple of nights before. It was if he knew just where every sensitive spot in my body was. It had been torture stopping him from actual intercourse, but I’d still orgasmed. I couldn’t imagine what he could do with other parts of his body if he could take me on the rollercoaster ride of all roller coaster rides with just his tongue. “Well, I’ll just have to make sure I find something that is new to you.” He growled and I watched as he threw his shirt on the ground, like some sort of expensive hot male stripper in Vegas. Not some Channing Tatum look alike either (though I wasn’t sure if he had been an expensive stripper or not in the movie; I could just remember him swinging his hips). Dante was way hotter than Channing Tatum; though I would never tell him that. He was perfection in every way. Tall, handsome, sexy, eyes that seemed to pierce into my soul when he gazed at me, a smile that said I want to eat you up, a touch that made promises to my body that I didn’t know if he could deliver. To sum it up, when you looked at him, Dante Vanderbilt was like some sort of Sex God. It almost wasn’t fair. When I looked at him, I thought of rolling around in bed, sheets and legs entwined together. I imagined him gazing at me, like he was now, like I was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen in his life. But I knew for Dante, this was all a game and I knew that I had to take him down a couple of notches. Don’t get me wrong, I am just like you. I’m the girl that wants love. The girl that enjoys sex. The girl that wants hot sex with a man she loves. That loves her back. I don’t like games. I don’t like drama. I’ve never had a one-night stand. I’ve never done anything like this before. That might be hard to believe. I don’t even really know how I got into this situation. Well, I know, but I don’t know

how I let it go this far. This was the rollercoaster ride that was never-ending and the ride was really only just beginning. “No strings attached, right?” His voice was smooth as he stood there and I watched as he took his jeans off. I couldn’t stop myself from gawking at his body. He was now naked from the waist up. He had a smattering of dark chest hair that covered his muscular pecs and ran down to his perfect abs. His skin was a golden olive tan and his hazel eyes shone like devious emeralds in the candlelight. I still couldn’t get over how sometimes his eyes looked so green and at other times looked so brown. He was wearing a pair of white boxer briefs that left nothing to the imagination. He had a huge grin on his face and his teeth looked unnaturally white in the darkness of his room. I stared at him wondering if I had the guts to go ahead with my plan. It was tricky because while I wanted to bring him down, I was also attracted to him. Very very attracted to him. And I was worried that I would be the one that would pay if everything went wrong. They always say that the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry. And I had a feeling that I could definitely be the one that would get burned in this situation. Even though I had planned everything out to go as smoothly as possible. Only I wasn’t quite sure I really had the perfect plan. But right now it didn’t matter. This was a risk I was willing to take. “Right.” I nodded as I licked my lips slowly, hoping desperately that I looked sexy as I did so. I walked towards him slowly, enjoying the feel of my flowy red dress brushing against my legs as I moved towards him seductively. “No strings attached.” My voice sounded strange to my own ears. I’d never said anything like that before in my life. Had never even thought that I would ever be okay with it. However somehow I had convinced myself that this was the way to go. “Take your dress off.” He said, his eyes looking darker now as he took a step towards me. His gaze was intense and he suddenly seemed taller, more muscular, more dangerous than he had before. A thrilling exhilarating feeling washed over me. This was the hottest situation that I’d ever been in. “I said now, Sadie.” His voice got deeper and he moved even closer. I stood there feeling like a statue as he leaned in close to me and whispered in my ear, “Take off your dress sexy or I’ll do it for you.” And then I felt his teeth on my earlobe nibbling and pulling it gently, before his lips fell to my neck and he kissed down my neck to my collarbone. My body was on fire and every limb was trembling in sweet anticipation. I could think of nothing, but having him then. Absolutely nothing. I stood there for a few seconds, unable to move, and then his hand reached up cradle my breast and I felt like I was on fire. “Take off your dress, Sadie.” He said again and then he whispered the words that made me freeze. “I know your secret.”

“What?” I blinked at him, my heart freezing. He couldn’t possibly know, could he? “I know your secret.” He said again with a smirk. “But what you don’t know is that I have one as well.” Chapter One One Month Ago “Sadie, I’ve got you a date for Saturday.” My grandma exclaimed dramatically as soon as I answered the phone. “Hello Grandma Louise, and no thank you.” I sighed into the phone in exasperation. “I have no time for a date on Saturday.” “Sadie Johnson, I’ve gone out of my way to get you this date, so you don’t wind up...” “Alone and childless, I know, I know.” I groaned into the phone. “Grandma, I’m twenty-eight, I’ve got plenty of time.” “That’s what you young ladies think nowadays. In my day, if you weren’t betrothed by 17, there was a problem.” “Grandma, I thought you and grandpops met when you were 22?” “Well, you know...” her voice trailed off. “Anyways, my best friend Addie set it up. You’ll be going on a date with one of her grandsons.” “Addie?” I said in a confused voice. “Who’s Addie? I’ve never even heard of her before.” “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten my best friend Addie?” Grandma sounded appalled and mumbled on about something else, but I was no longer paying attention because the kids from downstairs were throwing water balloons through my open kitchen window. “I’ve never heard of her before Grandma.” “Well you must have forgotten. Anyway, her grandson Dante is a very eligible bachelor. And quite the looker as well.” “Grandma Louise, I’m not interested.” I sighed. “If he’s so great, why is he single?” “You know someone could say that about you as well, Sadie.” Her voice was stern. “Now, one little date is not going to hurt you, is it?” “Grandma, we’ll talk later. I have to go.” I hung up the phone quickly, before she could protest and spend the next thirty minutes trying to guilt me into going on the date with this random guy like some loser. “Brandon, Dylan and Brody.” I

screamed as I ran to the window and looked down to the garden. “Stop it.” “Stop what?” Brody’s muddy face gazed up at me innocently, his bright blue eyes gleaming, as he held a red balloon in his wet hand. His little five year old face was adorable, but I was no longer deceived by his childish wiles. He was a terror through and through, along with his brothers. “You know what.” I growled and shook my head at him. “I’m coming down to talk to your mom.” “No, we’ll stop.” Dylan exclaimed panicked. He was smart enough to know that getting his mom involved wouldn’t be a good thing. At six years old, he was the oldest of the brothers, but he was definitely not the boss. “Too late.” I exclaimed as I backed away from the window with a hidden grin. I grabbed my keys and headed out the door to the downstairs apartment so I could speak to the boys mom, Cara, who happened to be my best friend. I had no intention on complaining about the boys though; I wanted to bitch about Grandma Louise and my new job instead. I didn’t bother locking the door because we lived in the same house and everyone in the house was welcome up to my upstairs apartment. It was a unique housing situation, but one that worked well for us. Cara’s dad had bought the house for her, when her childhood boyfriend had left her and the three kids. She rented out the top floor to me and I got a bit of a discount in the rent for babysitting the kids every now and again. “Cara, where are you?” I said as I walked down the stairs and into her living room. It was full of toys and I trod carefully across the floor, making sure to pay attention to the junk in front of me because I didn’t want to trip up and twist my ankle like I’d done the last time I’d been down there. “In the kitchen.” She called out and I hurried to the kitchen hoping that she was baking cookies. I was in the mood for chocolate chip cookies and milk or a shot of whiskey. Even one would do. “How’s it going, doll?” She grinned at me as I walked into the room. Her long frizzy red hair was a mess and she had a streak of something on her face, but she looked as happy as ever. “I’m good.” I said and looked around to see what I could grab to snack on. “But do you know what your brats are up to?” I mumbled before I remembered that I wasn’t going to tell on them. I really was the worst aunt. “Water balloons?” She nodded and then groaned as she looked at me. “Oh shit, did they get you with them?” “Well they tried.” I said with a small smile. “They threw them through the window and missed me, so I guess I’m the winner.” “Want a glass of wine?” “Do you have red?” “What sort of question is that?” She walked over to the corner of the kitchen

and opened a cupboard and before I could blink she was pulling out a bottle of wine. “Merlot good?” “Beggars can’t be choosers.” I said and I walked over to grab two wine glasses while she opened the bottle. Merlot wasn’t my favorite, but at the end of the day wine was wine. “So guess what?” I said dramatically as I turned to her. “Uhm,” she groaned as she shook her head, ever the exasperate mom. “If it has anything to do with Brandon, Dylan or Brody, I don’t want to know right now.” “It has nothing to do with them.” I said, already having conveniently forgotten the water balloon incident. “Grandma Louise called me.” “Oh Lord, what has she done now?” She handed me a glass and grinned widely. She knew Grandma Louise well. “Has she started another sex line or selling bingo tickets to her local ladies club?” “Don’t.” I shook my head as I gulped down a huge sip of wine. Grandma Louise always had some scheme going on and I wasn’t sure if she actually knew what she was doing or not. Last year, she’d gotten the idea to start a party-line with her friends. She claimed she didn’t understand what it meant and thought she was just offering phone calls to military men who were lonely and stationed overseas and just wanted someone to talk to. I asked her why she had a late-night ad on the local TV station if she thought the guys were overseas and then she started talking about how dementia ran in the family. “I still can’t believe she was rigging the weekly bingo sessions by creating winning cards and selling them at a discount to members of the club.” “I can’t believe people were paying $20 to win a bingo pot of $10.” Cara and I made eye contact and started giggling. “Who knew people wanted to be winners that badly?” “Apparently Grandma Louise knew.” I shook my head and my voice softened. “Ever since Grandad Fred died five years ago, she’s been doing all sorts of craziness, but I can’t help but love her.” “So what’s her newest idea?” Cara leaned forward on her white marble island excitedly. “She’s set me up on a date.” I took another huge gulp of wine and groaned. “Kill me now.” “Wow, a date?” Cara looked intrigued. “With who.” “With her new best friend, Addie’s, grandson.” “At least it’s not her new best friends grandfather. Though maybe you’d have a connection with someone a bit older.” “Cara.” I glared at her, but couldn’t stop myself from agreeing with her. Grandma Louise was a loose canon. You never knew what craziness she would

think up. And men could have kids until they died, so age wouldn’t be a factor if she just wanted me to give her great grandkids. “I’m not dating a grandfather and I sure as hell don’t want to go on a date with some rando’s grandson. God, I bet he’s a huge loser. Who goes on a date their grandma set up?” “Uhm...” Cara pointed at me and I just made a face at her. “At least you’re getting to go out on dates.” She sighed. “Between the boys, my job and dad, I don’t even have time to think.” “I’m sorry, Cara.” I leaned forward and grabbed her fingers. “You know I’m here to help whenever I can.” “I know, you’re the best.” Cara nodded. “So do you know what this guy looks like?” “Nope, but what do most guys that live in their grandma’s basement look like?” “Does he live in his grandma’s basement?” Cara’s jaw dropped. “Like some sort of Criminal Minds psycho?” “Exactly like a Criminal Minds psycho.” I nodded and then laughed slightly. “Well, I don’t know that officially, but you know what I mean.” “Oh Sadie.” Cara put her glass down and got back to seasoning her chicken drumsticks. “Do you want to stay for dinner?” “Yeah, that would be nice.” I smiled at her. “Want me to make a salad?” “Please.” She nodded. “Not that those terrors will eat any of it though.” She poured half a bottle of tomato ketchup on the drumsticks. “I’ll be lucky if they eat these. All they ever want is chicken nuggets.” “Boys!” I exclaimed as I went to the fridge and took out a head of lettuce, some tomatoes, a cucumber and some carrots. “So tell me about the new job. How’s it going?” “Ugh.” I groaned as I placed the produce on the countertop and grabbed a bowl, a cutting board and a sharp knife. “I swear my boss is Cruella Deville?” “Oh?” Cara gave me a curious look. “Do explain.” “This lady is the most over-the-top, meanest person I’ve ever met.” I pouted. “She also hates all dogs. Like tell me how you can hate dogs?” “How do you know she hates dogs?” “She told me she hates dogs when we saw one walking past the coffee shop the other day.” I rolled my eyes. “She literally pointed out the window, screwed up her nose and said I can’t stand those stinky creatures, can you?” “What did you say?” “I just sipped my latte.” I said as I took another gulp of wine. “I can’t afford to tell her the truth. I need this job.” “So what exactly are you doing for her?” Cara covered the chicken with

Aluminium foil and started peeling potatoes. “She’s like a millionaire right?” “Billionaire.” I sighed. “Well her late husband was a billionaire and now she has all his money. And she wants to invest in art. So she’s hired me to go around to all the museums in New York City and pick out my favorite pieces so that she can bid on them and buy them.” “What? Are they for sale?” “Girl, who knows?” I rolled my eyes. “She’s totally oblivious. I mean really?” “Well that doesn’t sound like such a hard job.” Cara looked at me hopefully. “I have to report back to her every other day on pieces I recommend. And list all the reasons why I think they will be a good investment. Like how the hell am I supposed to know?” “How did you get this job again?” “I told her I studied Art History.” I made a guilty face and I could feel my face growing red. “And I mean I did take some history classes and I took that one painting class.” “Oh my God, Sadie.” Cara burst out laughing and she just shook her head. “You don’t know the last thing about art.” “That’s not true. I know a little bit.” I wrinkled my nose. “And by a little bit, I mean I can identify the Mona Lisa, like 99% of the planet.” “Oh Sadie.” Cara spoke to me as if I were one of her sons. Completely exasperated, but with love. “You know lying never gets you anywhere.” “Well, I didn’t really lie and it did get me somewhere. It got me this job.” I grabbed the glass and gulped down what seemed like half of the glass of wine. “And that allows me to pay you rent.” “Girl, I don’t want you to work a job that you hate just to give me money.” Cara’s face was serious. “Quit and look for something you really want with a nice boss.” “Girl, I love you, but you have three sons and Christmas is coming up.” I shook my head. “There’s no way, I’m going to be a deadbeat on you right now.” “You’re not a deadbeat.” “Shh.” I put my hand up. “We’re not going to have this conversation. I’m still looking for new jobs, but for now I’ll play the art aficionado.” “Oh Sadie.” Cara put her glass down. “I’m so irresponsible. I should not be drinking right now.” “Girl, you need the wine to deal with those brats.” I laughed as I looked around the kitchen. It looked a lot messier than normal and as I paid closer attention to Cara, her appearance seemed to be more frazzled. “Hey, everything okay?”

“It’s fine.” She nodded and then sighed. “Well kinda. You know I love my job.” “I know and heaven knows why.” I made a face. “Accounting was never my thing.” “Well, they have me working nights.” She sighed. “We’re auditing a couple of hotels in this chain that is being considered for purchase by some billionaire hotshot and well nights are the only time we can get access to all the files and not be in the way.” “That sucks.” “Yes, it does.” She rubbed her eyes. “I’m barely keeping up and I just don’t know what to do with the boys.” “I’ll babysit anytime, you know that right?” “I know, between you and dad, I’m so blessed. I just feel bad.” She looked away from me and it looked to me like she was blinking furiously; as if she wanted to cry. “Hey, is everything okay?” I asked her as I walked closer to her. “Cara??” “I just didn’t think this would be my life.” She gave me a small smile. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my life, but I just didn’t think this was were I would be.” “I know girl.” I nodded my understanding. “I didn’t think this was were I’d be either.” “Go on that date with that guy.” She urged me suddenly. “Maybe it will be fun.” “Really?” I shook my head. “What is going to be fun about a date with some crusty guy my grandma set me up with. “Maybe you’ll at least end up with an orgasm for your troubles.” Cara winked at me and I groaned. “You’re joking right?” I laughed incredulously. “You think I should have a one-night stand? With a guy I’ve never even seen or met before.” “What can it hurt?” She grinned widely. “I mean if he has no teeth or is butt fuck ugly, then no. However, if you think he’s hot, just go for it.” “Won’t that ruin my chances at having a relationship with him?” “Do you want a relationship with him?” “No.” I said adamantly. “I’m in no place to have any sort of relationship right now, well of Mr. Right came along, maybe, but I’m almost sure this guy is not Mr. Right.” “What’s his name?” “I think Grandma Louise said his name is Dante.” “Dante.” Sadie nodded excitedly. “Yes, that’s the perfect name for a hot stallion.”

“Hot stallion?” “Yeah, someone to go wild and crazy with.” “What’s wild and crazy, mom?” Dylan’s voice interrupted our conversation and I could feel my face growing red. “Something you should never be.” Cara said smoothly without skipping a beat as she winked at me. “Now go and get your brothers and clean up. Dinner is nearly ready.” “Yes mom.” Dylan said and went running. “Brandon, Brody, dinner is ready. Mom said to get washed up and come now or no brownies.” “Brownies?” I asked Cara with a tilt of my head as she just shook hers. “That’s his way of trying to guilt me into making them brownies.” She rolled her eyes. “Not about to happen, buddy.” “Oh, hahaha. Kids.” I giggled. “Just wait until you have kids.” Cara took a deep breath. “You’ll see, they are a handful.” “Trust me, I already know.” I laughed as I grabbed the wine bottle and poured myself another glass. Dylan, Brandon, and Brody may not have been my biological kids, but sometimes they really seemed like they were. *** “Sadie, Sadie is that you?” Grandma Louise’s voice was almost shouting into the phone and I frowned as I listened to the loud sounds of pumping music blaring from her background. “Yes, Grandma.” I said patiently, knowing she knew exactly who it was. “Where are you?” “Is that why you called me Sadie Johnson?” “No, Grandma.” I rolled my eyes, knowing she was most probably at a casino with some of her friends. “I’m just jealous that you seem to have more of a life than me.” Which was 100% the truth. “Well I am trying to help you get a life.” Grandma Louise said and then she gasped. “Darn it, I needed one more cherry.” Yup, grandma Louise was playing the slots. Penny slots if I wasn’t mistaken. “Well, I’m calling to say that I’ll accept that date with Dante on Saturday night.” “I thought you would. He’s a very good looking young man.” She said approvingly. “Well, I’ve never seen him, so hopefully he’s goodlooking.” “Trust me, Sadie and if Addie is being honest, then he’s quite well off as

well.” “What do you mean if she’s being honest? I thought she was your best friend?” “Now now, Sadie. Don’t start going all Columbo on me.” She paused. “Though that Peter Falk was quite a looker. You’d be so lucky to get a man like him with your attitude. You girls these days...” “I’m going to go now, Grandma Louise.” I said trying to keep my patience. “Just let me know the plan for Saturday and I’ll be there.” Normally I would have just told her to give him my number so that he and I could set it up, but with all the stress I was feeling related to my lack of funds, sucky new job, and love life, I just didn’t want to deal with it. Let them sort it out and I would show up. Maybe it wouldn’t be absolutely horrible. Just maybe. Chapter Two “Five pounds, really?” I exclaimed to myself as I got off the scale and tried to erase the flashing numbers from my mind. “How the heck did I gain five pounds in one week?” I looked at my reflection in the mirror to see how evident it was that I was now gaining weight instead of losing it. “Cupcakes.” I heard a giggle from outside the bathroom door and I frowned. I quickly walked to the door and flung it open. There sitting outside my bathroom door, playing with a toy truck was Dylan. “What are you doing, Dylan?” I frowned as I stared at his chocolate stained face. Though I knew he had a point. I had been eating far too many delicious cupcakes as of late. I put it down to stress; even though I knew stress eating was the worst for my body. “Playing.” He held up his small red truck as if to say duh. “Why are you playing up here?” I questioned him, not that I really minded. Dylan was like family to me. It was just sometimes I liked my privacy. Especially at times when I was in the bathroom weighing myself. “Cos.” He shrugged his little shoulders and jumped up. “So you got any more cupcakes?” “No, I don’t.” I shook my head at him and tried to give him my sternest face. He really was the most incorrigible little boy. “Cos if you give them to me that will help you with the extra pounds.” He grinned at me and I glared at him; even though I knew it was not really the done thing to glare at little boys, but I knew that Cara wouldn’t judge me for it. She glared at him like no-ones business.

“Dylan, it is very rude to go around talking about a woman’s weight.” I chided him. “This is a lesson you should learn from a young age.” I felt proud of myself for introducing him to a life lesson instead of getting mad at him, like I wanted to. “You don’t talk to women about their weight. You don’t ask them how much they weigh or try and guess how much they weigh and you sure don’t tell them why you think they gained weight.” I paused then and considered something. “Unless, of course, you are a personal trainer or a doctor. Then you can because it will be a part of your job.” I concluded, feeling even more proud of myself. Perhaps, I should become a teacher. I seemed to have a knack of talking to kids. Maybe I was the kid whisperer or something? “But you asked how you gained five pounds.” He protested and he just looked at me like I was an idiot. Maybe I wasn’t the kid whisperer after all. I stared back and him and he started giggling and I could have sworn that he was staring directly at my stomach. Little bugger. “I didn’t ask you.” I made a face. “I was in the bathroom and…” “I’m thirsty.” He interrupted me. “I want milk.” “That’s not how you politely ask for milk.” I shook my head at him. I was going to have to talk to Cara about making sure her kids had manners and respected my privacy. This was getting ridiculous. “Maybe go back downstairs and ask your mom?” “Mom sent me up. She asked if you could babysit us tonight because she has to go into work.” He ran his truck across the floor. “Vrooom....vroooom.” “Tonight?” I groaned. “I can’t tonight. I have a date. She knows that.” I had finally told Grandma Louise that I would meet her best friends grandson and now I needed to look after the brats? What was Cara thinking? Had she forgotten? “That’s okay.” Dylan said as he held up his truck. “I’ll tell mom that her boss will have to fire her after all because you can’t take care of us cos of your date.” “Dylan…” I stared at the little boy shrewdly. Was he really trying to pull a guilt trip on me? Was it even possible for someone that young to be so manipulative? He was only six after all. I thought back to an old movie I’d watched on TV called The Good Son and wondered if perhaps, Dylan could be a little psychopath, but then I just shook my head and rolled my eyes. Even I knew I was being overly dramatic at that thought. “Yes, Auntie Sadie?” He said in his most innocent voice, his big blue eyes shining at me as if he were a precious angel. I wasn’t deceived though. I’d known Dylan since before he was born and he was no angel. He was no psychopath, but he was no angel either. “Nothing.” I shook my head and sighed. “Let’s go downstairs and let me

speak to your mom and see what I can do about tonight.” “Okay.” He jumped up and grinned. “Can we get pizza please? Ham, pineapple, mushrooms, pepperoni and extra cheese.” “Pizza?” I looked at his little face and shook my head at him. “There are no words Dylan, absolutely no words.” “No words for what?” He asked innocently and then put his small hand in mine. “Do you know what I love most about you, Auntie…” “Nope.” I put my hand up. “You’re not going to guilt trip me into getting you pizza.” And then because I couldn’t help myself, I gave him a quick hug. “You’re going to break a lot of hearts when you’re older, Dylan.” I said with a quick laugh as he grinned at me and then he pulled away from me and went running down the stairs. “Mom, mom, Auntie Sadie said she can look after us and we can get pizza tonight.” He went screaming in excitement and all I could do was roll my eyes as I followed him down to the lower level of the house trying to figure out exactly what was going on. *** “Sadie, I know you have your date tonight.” Cara’s face looked despondent as we sat in her living room and chatted. The boys were playing in their bedrooms for once and I watched as she played with her fingers nervously. “And I wouldn’t ask, but dad is out of town and I can’t find a babysitter that’s available.” “I know you didn’t plan this.” I sighed. “I’m just meant to meet Dante in a couple of hours.” I ran my hands through my long dark brown hair. “I don’t even have his number to call and cancel on him.” I bit down on my lower lip. “And Grandma Louise would kill me if I stood him up.” “You’re meeting him at the coffee shop right?” Cara asked me thoughtfully. “Uh huh.” I nodded. “Grandma Louise wanted us to meet at some steak house, but I told her no way. I’ll meet him for a coffee and if I like him, I’ll casually suggest we can continue on for dinner.” I made a face. “No way, I’m getting stuck on a three hour dud date with some loser just for a free steak.” “You’re going to the Peets? Next to Ice Cone King?” She asked me and I could see something was ticking in her brain. “Yeah?” I nodded. “So what if,” She made a face. “And I know this is not the ideal situation. But what if you took the boys. They could sit in Ice Cone King, they have seats at the front and you could sit outside the Peets. They have those nice Adirondack

chairs now.” “Oh they do?” I said slowly, processing what she had just said. Could I really go on a date with three kids? Granted the kids wouldn’t be on the date with me, but they would be right there watching. “I know it wouldn’t be ideal.” Cara bit down on her lower lip and I could tell she looked stressed. “I hate to ask this of you, Sadie and I wouldn’t go in if I thought I could get away with it.” Her voice sounded upset and I reached out to squeeze her hands. “Hey, it’s not a problem.” I gave her a wide smile and pretended that it sounded like a great idea. “It’s only a first date as well, so we won’t even be out long. I’ll be able to keep an eye on them. Don’t worry about it.” I didn’t want her to feel stressed. Cara was an amazingly positive and upbeat person, but I knew that it wasn’t being a single mother of three at 28. And her kids dad wasn’t in the picture at all. He was such a deadbeat. It made me mad just to think about how he’d just left and didn’t even see his kids. “It’ll be fine.” “Are you sure?” Cara’s face still looked concerned. “I really don’t want to ruin your first date in ages.” “It’ll be fine.” I said to her. “Trust me. I’m sure it will be fine.” *** “What are you going to do with the drunken sailor? What are you going to do with the drunken sailor? What are you going to do with the drunken sailor? Early in the morning.” Dylan was singing loudly in the backseat, accompanied by Brody and Brandon. “Pull down his pants and suffocate the ants now. Pull down his pants and suffocate the ants now. Pull down his pants and suffocate the ants now. Early in the morning.” Brody was really getting into it as he wiggled around in the back seat. I peered in the rearview mirror of the car and sighed to myself. The kids were already super hyped-up and I didn’t think that they needed a sugar rush from the icecream to come. It was going to be a long night. “Come on Aunty Sadie.” Dylan tapped on my shoulder as he began another round of singing and I couldn’t stop myself from joining them. “Pull down his pants and suffocate the ants now, pull down his pants and suffocate the ants now. Pull down his pants and suffocate the ants now early in the morning.” I sang and then stopped as I noticed Dylan pretending to be drinking from a beer bottle and I started to feel guilty. “Hey kids, let’s sing something else. I don't know if this is an appropriate song for you guys to be singing.”

“Why not Auntie Sadie? You're the one that taught us the song.” Dylan said, ever the voice of reason. I swear he should join the FBI when he’s older with all his questions. “Well, I know I taught you the song,” I paused for a few seconds but I don't know that it's appropriate you guys to be singing. And pretending to be drinking beer.” I looked at them and then just shook my head. “But I guess your mom already knows that I’ve taught it to you. So it's fine.” They just grinned at me and I sighed wondering what sort of example I was to them. “Oh, shit.” I said, as I realized that I’d passed my stop on the highway. “Hold on, guys.” I said as I sped up to take the next exit and turn around. “Man. I'm going to be late.” I muttered as I looked at the time on my dashboard. I pulled up to the next exit. And then turned around so that I could pull off at the right exit. I made it to the parking lot within five minutes and breathed a sigh of release as I realized we were still early. I parked and jumped out of the car and then opened the backdoors to let the boys out. As we walked to the ice cream shop, I was happy to notice that it was a nice day outside, and even though it was a Saturday evening and it wasn’t that busy out. If it had been raining or too crowded, it would have been a hot mess. “Okay, guys, so we've discussed the plan, right?” I stopped outside of the ice cream store and looked at the three boys sternly. They all had looks of extreme excitement on their face. It wasn’t that often that they gotten taken out for ice cream treats where they got to pick whatever they wanted. “Yes. Auntie Sadie.” They chorused, looking cherubic, their chubby little faces beaming up at me. The three of them almost looking like triplets as they were so close in age. “So remember we're going to go into the ice cream shop now. I’m going to be in the coffee shop right next door meeting a friend. I will also be sitting outside, watching you.” “You mean a date.” Dylan grinned. “Yes, Dylan.” “I want a chocolate fudge brownie.” Brody said, not caring to listen to me talk anymore. He just wanted to eat. “I want pizza.” Brandon said. “We're going to get pizza when we get home, Brandon. First ice-cream and then pizza. And you guys have to be good. Remember you told your mom, you would be good.” “We’re always good, Auntie Sadie.” Dylan said with a sweet smile and I just nodded at him, knowing that now was not the time to remind him of all the times that they hadn’t been good.

“Yes, yes.” I nodded and my heart started racing as I looked at the time on my watch. I had 15 minutes before Dante was meant to show up. “Let’s go in and get your icecream guys and then we can get you seated.” I said as I opened the door to the store, wondering if this was a really bad idea. “Also guys, just remember that my friend.” I paused and looked at Dylan. “Well my date, well this is the first time I’m meeting him and he doesn’t know that you guys are going to be there.” “Why not?” Brandon said with a frown. “Doesn't he like us?” Dylan said and I shook my head quickly. “He doesn't know you guys and I don’t want you all to meet him until I know if he’s a nice guy. Now come on, choose what you want quickly. It's a first day and I do not want to scare this guy off by introducing him to three kids.” “Why would you be scaring him off, Auntie Sadie?” “No reason,” I said and gave Dylan a smile and hug. I didn’t want them to feel like they were unlovable. I was already worried that they were getting to the age where they were starting to ask more and more questions about their dad. Sometimes I spoke to them, well especially, Dylan, as if they were adults, but I knew that they weren’t and I wanted to be careful of their feelings. “Hey guys, you’re going to have your ice-cream and I’m going to grab a coffee and meet with him. I'm going to be really quick and then we're going to go.” “I thought you said that you wanted to get a free steak out of it.” Dylan said innocently and I frowned. Had he been eavesdropping when I’d been talking to his mom? “No Dylan.” I shook my head. “I’m just getting a quick coffee.” “Okay,” they all chorused politely. That really should have been my first sign that the night was not going to go as planned. I could even tell from the look on Dylan’s face that he wasn’t just going to sit patiently outside, but I was too preoccupied with other things to allow my instincts to set in and warn me of the impending drama.

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