Now a Major Motion Picture Read Free

the red carpet and meet famous people.” She gasped. “You’re going to be famous. This is so freaking awesome. It’s a dream come true.”
    Amelia stared at her as the full weight of Andrew’s words sank in. Her mind flashed again to Noah, to the montage of scenes that until now had seemed no more than a vague threat: Noah catching a glimpse of her name in a newspaper or magazine…picking up a book and seeing her photo on the back cover…walking into a theater, out of nostalgia or idle curiosity, to watch a movie version of the book—and realizing with a shock that it was about him.
    Realizing that all of it, everything, was about him.

 
CHAPTER TWO
     
    Comfort Zone
     
    Amelia leaned into the long bar and surveyed the crowd packed in around her in the Beale Street club. The air was thick with smoke and the hum of a hundred different conversations. Even more deafening was the music blaring from a stage in the corner, where a cover band blasted out a raucous version of Violent Femmes’ “Blister in the Sun.”
    She felt oddly detached from the scene—still in shock from Andrew’s news, though the cocktail in front of her, her third, made it all seem fuzzy around the edges.
    She eyed a group of college-age girls dancing close to the stage, trying to get noticed by the guys in the band. As she watched, a leggy blonde in a skirt so short it practically showed cheek hoisted herself up and sashayed over to the lead singer. He looked more flattered than annoyed until she moved in front of him and tried to wrestle away his microphone. Seconds later she was hauled off by a black-shirted bouncer who’d suddenly materialized onstage.
    Amelia chortled, shaking her head. The rush of movement made the room spin, and she put a hand down on the bar to steady herself. Even with her buzz, she’d need a lot more vodka to reach that point of inhibition. Who am I kidding? I’d never reach that point. She’d pass out well before she got there.
    “Those were the days, right?” Reese yelled into her ear.
    Amelia grinned at her. “Did you have days like that? Because I don’t think I did. Maybe I should have—”
    Reese grinned back. “I don’t think you have it in you. That’s okay though. You’re classy. That chick’s not. It’s not a bad thing.”
    She groaned. “You make it sound like I’m about ninety-five and boring.”
    “Nope,” Reese said, her eyes sweeping down Amelia’s halter top and skinny jeans ensemble, not stopping till they reached the floor. “No boring person would ever own shoes that hot.”
    She looked down at the pewter peep toe heels she’d bought a few hours earlier, her periwinkle blue pedicure popping against the shimmery patent leather. She let out a self-conscious giggle, thinking if only she had Reese’s perspective on life. She lifted one stilettoed foot for Reese’s benefit and twirled it around.
    “They are hot, aren’t they?”
    “He thinks so,” Reese said.
    Amelia followed her gaze to a man she didn’t know. He was standing next to David—probably one of his “guys from the office.” When he caught her looking at him, he tipped his glass and winked. Amelia felt the flush rise into her cheeks as Reese grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the dance floor. They’d taken just two steps when Reese stopped in her tracks and reached back to grab Amelia’s half-full glass from the bar.
    “Get drunker,” she said, thrusting it into Amelia’s hand. “And come on, let’s dance.”
    Before she knew it, she was dancing not with Reese, but with the winker, who picked a slow song—a tinny version of Foreigner’s “Waiting for a Girl Like You”—to make his move. His name was Jake and he was, in fact, a lawyer at David’s firm. He had straight, caramel-colored hair that was a little too long, and he was very tall, at least six-three. He told Amelia he’d moved to Memphis from D.C. six weeks earlier, and it wasn’t until the song ended and Reese dragged her to the