Free The Millionaire Myth by Jennifer Taylor Page A

Interested?”
                  She nodded enthusiastically.  “I'm in!”  She raised her glass.  “Here's to making old stories new again.”
                  I clinked her glass with mine.  “To fresh blood, absolutely.”

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 12
     
                  After my lunch with Gina I felt more like my old self.  Though only a few weeks had passed since I'd first invented this new life for myself, it felt more like a few years.  As I ate lunch and listened to Gina talk about Steven, I could tell she really cared about him.  She kept saying that he was the only one for her...that she wished they could work it out.
                  As she talked I couldn't help but picture Mick's face.  Not because we had the same relationship; exactly the opposite.  He definitely wasn't the only one for me.  Admittedly, he was incredible in bed, but that was about the extent of it.  Things had gotten out of hand; I was acting like I would in a real relationship. I was walking around with highlights I didn't want, I was eating carrots at night, for god's sake. I spent a whole lot of my time thinking about what Mick would like. I needed to regroup. I'd started this whole money rumor to enjoy myself more.  When had I lost sight of that?  It was time to have some fun.
                 
                  Five hours later I knocked on Mick's door.  He opened the door for me all smiley and sweaty.  Looks like I had perfect timing.  He was wrapped in a towel, headed for the shower, just like every night we'd been together.  Mick was a gym fanatic, actually he was sort of an everything fanatic.  Every night at five-thirty he'd get to the gym, work out for two hours, get home, take a shower, have dinner, watch TV and read.  Then the evening was topped off with a respectable go-round in the sheets.  He was such a stickler for routine, I wondered if it threw him when the girl between the sheets changed.  From what I'd experienced, I'd say no.
                  “Hey Babe.  Love the hair!” He gave me a quick peck. “I was just going to grab a shower, give me ten minutes.”
                  “No problem.”  I sauntered toward the kitchen and started unloading the bag I'd filled at home. Since I knew Mick wouldn't be home from the gym for a while, I got everything ready in my kitchen.  I thought it'd be nice to cook him dinner, my kind of dinner.
                  Typically, if we didn't go out, Mick would whip us up something light.  He was very into grilled chicken, large, leafy salads with light vinaigrette dressing and steamed vegetables.  The only time I'd ever seen him eat a carb was when we went out.  Even then he kept it to a minimum.  I figured it was because he liked to pretend he could eat whatever he wanted and still look phenomenal.
                  Up until now I'd gone along with his preferences.  Seems like all I ever said to him was, “Are you kidding?  That bowl of crunchy lettuce was huge, I couldn't eat another bite!”  Well, not tonight. 
                  I turned on his oven and grabbed a cookie sheet.  I pulled out a loaf of french bread that I'd already buttered and sprinkled with garlic.  I put both pieces on the cookie sheet, piling them with mozzarella cheese before putting them under the broiler.
                  Now for the big kahuna.  My homemade lasagna, in its insulated container, was still piping hot.  I took off the lid and was hit by the mouth-watering aroma.  I couldn't wait to dive into it.
                  A few minutes later the smell of garlic and cheese filled Mick's apartment.  He came around the corner of the kitchen, approaching carefully.  He sniffed at the air with a look of confusion on his face.  I sympathized.  Poor guy had never smelled real food