***
It would have been easier to find a needle in a haystack than to find an actress named Melanie Smith in New York City. The woman was elusive. Google searches brought up past performance history, but no contact information at all. No Facebook or Twitter accounts, no website. Nothing.
Devon had gone to the pier the morning the ship docked, but never found Melanie or her friends in the crush of people. And hanging out around the audition spaces had proved fruitless, too. Maybe she had decided to quit the business. He wouldn’t have been surprised. As a matter of fact, he would have been happy for her. She did say she was miserable, after all. But part of him hoped she would give it just a few more tries—enough for him to be able to track her down at an audition space.
“Dude, where are you?”
Devon looked up at Brody. They were sitting in a bar, having a couple of beers, but Devon was having trouble focusing on the conversation.
“Sorry,” he said with a slight shake of his head. “I just…I can’t believe I can’t find her.”
Brody rolled his eyes. “Do you see that over there?” He pointed to a woman on the other side of the bar. “There’s a lot of hot ass out there, Dev. There’s no reason for you to be toiling over some insecure actress you met on a ship. Trust me. Insecure actresses are a dime a dozen.”
Devon bristled. “Shut up, Brody. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I know that you’re no fun to hang out with anymore. I’ve lost my best friend to some chick you knew for less than four days.”
“She’s not some chick. And you haven’t lost me. I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Barely.” Brody took a long swig of his beer. “Look, all I’m saying is that if she wanted to find you, she would have by now. It’s not like you’re an unknown hermit.”
“She doesn’t know my last name—at least, I don’t think she does. And she thinks I’m a masseuse. You have to know what you’re looking for in order to find it.”
Brody shrugged. “I think you’re wasting your time and energy obsessing over this girl.”
“It’s not obsessing when…” He couldn’t say it. Not to Brody. Even if it was true that he had fallen for her, Brody would never understand. “Just mind your own business, okay?”
Devon stood and retrieved a pair of twenty-dollar bills. “I’ve gotta go.” He tossed the bills on the table.
“Oh, come on, Dev. I’m just trying to help.”
“Yeah, some help you are. I’ll catch you later.”
He walked out of the bar and stood on the street for a minute, watching as the Soho elite bustled past him. He had no idea what his next move would be or if he even should have a next move. What if Brody was right? What if she didn’t want to find him? What if it really was just a summer fling?
Ten
“Hi, I’m Melanie Smith. I’m here for the job interview.”
The front desk girl smiled and handed her a clipboard. “Great. If you could just fill this out, someone will be right with you.”
Melanie took a seat in the waiting area of the familiar dance studio. She wasn’t nearly as nervous as she usually was for a job interview—she knew these halls and studios too well.
She filled out the paperwork and handed it back to the girl at the front desk, and within minutes, the manager appeared in the lobby.
“Melanie?” she said, her hand out-stretched. “I’m Carol.”
Melanie stood and shook the woman’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Carol.”
They sat down in Carol’s office. She wanted to know all about Melanie’s dance background, performance history and job history. But mostly she wanted to know if she liked kids.
Melanie couldn’t help but remember blurting out that she wanted to be a mom on her first date with Devon. She nodded, a smile coming to her lips. “Yes, I do.”
Carol smiled back. “Well, that’s great to know.” She straightened some papers on her desk and reached for a set of keys. “Do you mind giving me a mini class now? Just pretend I’m a three-year-old.”
Melanie wasn’t sure what it would be like to teach real three-year-olds, but teaching Carol acting like a three-year-old was more fun that she ever expected. Carol pretended to pick her nose, not pay attention and did everything completely wrong. Melanie loved every minute of it.
The next morning, when Carol called to tell her she had the job, Melanie couldn’t stop herself from jumping up and down like a little kid on their way to Disney World.
She was in the middle of her celebration dance when a knock came at the door. “Mel, it’s Lisa! Open up!”
Surprised and a little worried, Melanie ran to the door. “Lis? What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”
Lisa took a moment to catch her breath. “We really have to get you out of this 5th-floor walk-up,” she panted.
“Is that what you came all the way here to tell me?”
“No.” Lisa pulled a magazine from behind her back and held it up in front of Melanie’s face. Melanie pulled back a bit so she could actually see the cover. It took her a moment to process what she was looking at, but even when she recognized Devon’s face, she still couldn’t quite understand what was going on.
“I don’t get it,” she said. “What is this?’
Lisa brushed past, taking the magazine with her, and plopped down on the couch. “Your masseuse isn’t really a masseuse.”
“What do you mean?” Melanie asked, wishing Lisa would just get to the point.
“He’s a billionaire. Or a millionaire, at the very least. Ever heard of Silly Squirrels?”
Of course she had. Everybody who had an iPhone played it. It was the most popular game to ever hit the market. “Sure I have.”
Lisa opened the magazine to reveal a pull-out poster of Devon and some other guy, dressed in designer clothes, looking all posh and suave. “Meet the creators. Brody Simonton and…Devon Matthews.”
Melanie shook her head. “It’s not possible. He’s a masseuse.”
Lisa flipped the magazine around and read, “‘Mr. Matthews’s most recent endeavor, after a year of studying massage therapy out of boredom, was a short stint as a masseuse aboard a famous cruise liner.’”
Melanie had no idea what to say, or how she should even feel. “He’s a billionaire?”
Lisa scanned the article. “Says here his estimated worth is around seven hundred and fifty million. Close enough.” She looked up at Melanie. “Are you okay?”
Was she okay? She had no idea how to answer that question. Here she was, worrying over the fact that she got Devon fired from a job where he worked round the clock, and now she finds out he’s one of the richest people under thirty. Ever. Part of her was relieved that she didn’t have to carry around that guilt anymore. But another part of her was incredibly saddened by the news. Clearly, if he thought they had something special going, he would have confided in her. Right? And seeing as he was an incredibly wealthy twenty-something guy who took jobs “out of boredom,” it was quite possible that Sophie had been right about him. Maybe Melanie was just something to help him pass the time aboard the ship.
“I will be,” she said at last. “Thanks for letting me know.”
She sent Lisa home and after a good cry, she pulled herself together. She had to move on. She had a new job, for which she had to create a curriculum, and besides, there were plenty of fish in the sea. Fish that were willing to be honest with her.
She tried to tell herself that it wasn’t a big deal—she had only known him four days, so getting over him should have been easy. But the ache in her heart and the pit in her stomach said otherwise. It was not going to be easy at all to get over Devon Matthews.