Take Two (The Jilted Bride #1)(39)

“Good night Melody.”

“Good night. Thank you for the Skittles.”

“You’re very welcome.”

I floated through the next day. All I could think about was my date with Melody later.

Joan had to snap her fingers several times to get my attention during my tuxedo fitting. I was too busy dreaming about how the night would go, hoping we could spend more nights of the week together.

“Mr. Sterling!” Joan screamed.

“What?”

“Mr. Giornetti is trying to ask you how the sleeves feel.”

“Oh,” I shook my arms. “They feel great. This is a really nice suit.”

Mr. Giornetti smiled and took a step back. “I’m very particular about my work, Mr. Sterling. I want to be sure that this is the best suit I’ve designed so far. Will you be able to do another fitting once I’ve properly sewn the sleeves? Mr. Sterling?”

“He’ll be here,” Joan sighed. “You can go over potential dates with me.”

After the tuxedo fitting, Joan had the driver take me to New Jersey to buy food for the night. I didn’t feel like dealing with paparazzi while grocery shopping.

“Do you know if she has any food allergies?” Joan placed a turnip in the shopping cart.

I wonder if she likes Italian food…

“Can I authorize a double raise for myself?”

Is that too romantic? Does that make it seem like I’m desperate? Why am I so nervous? This can’t be normal...

“Oreos and Cheese Nips?” Joan shook the cart, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“What’s that Joan?”

“All you have so far are Oreos, Cheese Nips, and a turnip. And the turnip is mine.”

“I’m so sorry Joan. I’m out of it. I’m never been this nervous and—”

“What do you plan on making?”

“I was thinking something Italian?”

“Too romantic.”

“French?”

“We’re in a grocery store, not a specialty market.”

“American?”

“Nothing says ‘I like you’ more than a greasy hamburger.”

“Come on,” I laughed. “Help me out here.”

“Fine. Go back to the car.”

“But I—”

“Trust me. You won’t be much help anyway.”

I laughed and walked down the condiments aisle. Only a few fans approached me and asked for my autograph. The cashiers waved and took pictures with their phones.

I mixed the glaze for our chicken as Melody sat quietly on a barstool. She was dressed in a simple black shirt and jeans but she still looked sexy.

Would she get mad if I suggested that we just skip dinner?

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a Southern woman who couldn’t cook,” I smiled.

“My mom tried to show me all the time when I was growing up, but it was boring to me. How’d you learn?”

“My dad. He was a cook at a diner for a long time. He used to steal the seasonings and ingredients we couldn’t afford.”

“He died?”

“Yeah. Lung cancer.”

“Oh...”

“Don’t look so sad. He died happy,” I poured the glaze over our food and sat across from her. “What’s your favorite food?”

“Candy.”

“You’re joking.”

“No, I’m a candy addict. That’s why I have all those vases of sweets in my office. The Skittles you sent are already gone.”

I couldn’t stop laughing. “A candy addict?”

“It’s true! I think my appointments alone pay my dentist’s mortgage.”

“I bet,” I calmed down. “What’s your favorite real food?”

“Pizza I guess.”

WHAT?

“Not chicken parmesan, crème brûlée, lobster?”

“I’ve eaten all those, but pizza’s way better. And I’m talking about the pizza that takes real time and thought to make, none of that chain pizza crap.”

That’s different…

I noticed her plate was empty. “You want dessert? The sorbet should be ready by now.”

“I don’t think I can eat anymore.”

“Okay. Can we talk somewhere else? In another room?”

She hopped off her stool and led me into a small room with dark brown sofas. I assumed it was her living room.

“Oh, there’s actually furniture in here,” I laughed. “Take your shoes off.”

“Why?”

“So it’ll be harder for you to run away.”

She rolled her eyes and slipped out of her flats. I patted the couch cushion next to me but she sat on the other end.

“Nice try,” I moved down the couch.

“What did you want to talk about, Matt? How detailed you want me to write the article for your wedding?”

So much for beating around the bush first…

“Selena and I aren’t really together, Melody. We’re in a staged for the cameras relationship.”

She blinked a couple times and said nothing. She looked around the room, as if she was searching for her next words.