SLEAZE: A Hollywood Comeback Story (Book #1)

Chapter 48

Monday morning dragged by at an agonizingly slow pace and nothing I did made the minutes tick by any faster. I wanted to talk to Michael about the conversation we'd had on Sunday but no matter how many times I walked by his office, the door remained firmly shut. Always one to pull people in for a chat, it was rare for Michael not to leave the door ajar unless he was about to get on a phone call. When I still hadn't seen him by eleven, I assumed that he was off sick and didn't think about it again until Melanie ushered me out of the building an hour later to get lunch.

"What's wrong with Michael?" Melanie demanded as she pulled her hair into a tight bun with angry twists of her fingers.

"Is he in?" I asked, surprised. "I haven't seen him all day."

"Trust me, he's in. God, he's been in such a bad mood," Melanie complained before rattling off his list of offenses. In addition to Michael's standard hotheadedness, he'd also managed to call Melanie by the wrong name twice in less than twenty minutes.

With a frustrated sigh, the redhead said, "I'm so over this."

"Trouble in paradise already?" I teased, but Melanie wasn't amused.

"I thought you were going to give that a rest."

"When did I agree to that?" I asked, laughing when Melanie smacked my shoulder.

Using the tip of her pink, Melanie dabbed at the liner she'd smudged while rubbing her eyes. "Honestly, he's nice to look at, I guess, but he has the worst personality ever. The world's so unfair."

"Aw, he's alright, really," I said, feeling defensive despite knowing how horrible Michael could be. "He doesn't handle stress well, that's all."

"Then he picked the wrong job," Melanie replied with a note of finality and I shrugged, not seeing the point in upsetting her any further by arguing about it.

The conversation turned to Armada's party and although I was tired of rehashing the details for people like Melanie and my parents, I made the evening sound more exciting than it actually had been for her benefit. Instead of sharing my disgust for the extravagant bash, however, Melanie's eyes lit up at the mention of the entertainment and the designer's arrogant entrance. I wondered if that was the reaction I should've had but no matter how hard I tried to remember the evening in a positive light, the party still left a sour taste in my mouth.

By the time five o'clock rolled around, I'd exhausted everything on my to-do list and even managed to organize my desk for the first time in months. Still, I was bored out of my mind and more than ready to head over to Sophie's house, even though I knew she had a stack of rom-coms waiting for me on top of her DVD player. I passed Michael's office when I left and debated whether or not I should stop in to say goodbye. His door had remained closed throughout the afternoon and I wasn't sure he'd even taken his lunch break. Although I wanted to lean on him for answers, I had a feeling that it was probably safer to wait until he was in a better mood. I continued on to Melanie's desk where she glared up at me and muttered, "I hate this job."

"Not long left now," I said, and flashed her a thumbs up in what I hoped was an encouraging gesture.

Melanie nodded, though I could tell from the expression on her face that the day had really done a number on her. For a split second, I could've sworn she was on the verge of tears and I paused, wanting to make sure she was okay before dashing off. Sensing my hesitation, Melanie forced a smile.

"Don't worry, I'm fine. Nothing a glass of wine and some online shopping can't fix."

I shifted my weight from foot to foot. "You sure? I don't mind sticking around for a bit if you want to talk or something."