Free The Boy Next Door by Meg Cabot

with him. As Aaron can attest, I do not dive into bed with anybody that easily, all right?
    You guys are way overreacting. First of all, Dolly, I don’t even believe that nipple story. And Nadine, I am not the emotionally fragile mess you imagine me to be. Okay, I am concerned about Winona Ryder, but it is not keeping me up at night. Ditto Laura Dern.
    I can take care of myself.
    Besides, it’s just a movie, for God’s sake.
    Thanks for caring, though.
    Mel

To: Nadine Wilcock
    From: Mel Fuller
    Subject: What is going on here?
    What was that supposed to be? An intervention? I nearly died when I walked into the ladies’ room and Dolly was there with YOU. I kept looking around for the fax guy, thinking he was hiding in one of the stalls with a box of condoms and some edible massage oil, and her being there was all just some terrible mistake.
    Nadine, I don’t care what Dolly says about Max Friedlander. He is nothing like that. Maybe he used to be, but he’s changed. I mean, I know . I have spent time with the guy. And I’ve watched him with Paco, and especially with Mr. Peepers (okay, I admit it, so I spied on him through the window. Hey, I’m not proud. But it’s the truth). Mr. Peepers hates everybody, but he is really starting to warm up to Max, and I know you can’t judge a person by how he or she relates to animals, but I think it says a lot about Max that he has spent so much time getting to know his aunt’s pets that even a distrustfuland generally antisocial cat like Mr. Peepers is starting to warm up to him.
    OK?
    And, yeah, maybe my batting average ain’t what it ought to be, considering the fact that Aaron was doing Barbara Bellerieve behind my back and I never suspected a thing, but I really don’t think Max is just out to get me into bed. Because if what Dolly is saying is true, then Max Friedlander could have anybody. So why would he want me? I am not being self-effacing, either. I mean, why would a guy like that go for a short red-headed gossip columnist when he could have…well, Cindy Crawford, if she wasn’t happily married to that guy who owns Skybar, or Princess Stephanie of Monaco, or somebody like that?
    I mean, seriously, think about it, Nadine.
    That’s all. I’m not mad or anything. Just hurt, I guess. I mean, I’m not a baby.
    Mel
    P.S.: You can make it up to me by helping me pick out new shoes at Nine West to go with my new dress.

To: Mel Fuller
    From: Nadine Wilcock
    Subject: Fine. Go out with him. See if I care.
    But I want a full report the minute you get back. Understand?
    And I am warning you, Mel, if this guy breaks your heart and you are mopey for my wedding, I will personally kill both him and you.
    Nad :-[

To: John Trent
    From: Jason Trent
    Subject: What novel?
    You’re writing a novel now? You’ve shed the shackles of the family fortune, you’re leading a double life, you’re trying to solve the mystery behind the old lady’s assault, and you’re writing a novel?
    Who do you think you are, anyway? Bruce Wayne?
    Jason

To: Jason Trent
    From: John Trent
    Subject: Batman
    Actually, I don’t believe Bruce Wayne ever wrote a novel, nor did he shed the shackles of the family fortune. He used his fortune quite extensively, I believe, in his crime-fighting efforts. Although he did, obviously, lead a double life.
    As for solving the mystery behind the old lady’s assault, Bruce would probably have done a better job than I have so far. I just can’t understand it—why would somebody try to bump off a harmless old lady like that? The closest the police have gotten to explaining it is that it was an interrupted robbery—but interrupted how? And by whom?
    Mel mentioned something about how the doorman often gets her