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9
Melanie scrawled the appointment time and location down as soon as she hung up the phone. Mr. Smith's wife was more than happy that she had managed to speak to the woman her wrote the novel, and Melanie could tell that she would be very happy to meet her in person.
The appointment was over dinner at quite a classy restaurant on the outskirts of the city. Melanie realised that she would have to make an impression, and as the appointment was in three days, she now had things to do each day before the dinner meeting.
Melanie was so excited. She hadn’t been so excited in a very long time, not since Dean. She wished she could share this news with Dean. She couldn’t, and it would be pathetic to go tell a tombstone. He had chosen to kill himself, and she couldn't let the survivor’s guilt get to her. It wasn't her fault, but she couldn't help but blame herself.
There was a knock at the door, startling her out of her reverie.
When Melanie opened the door, some of her happiness was driven away at the sight of who was at the door. The man in the doorway was in his mid-forties, dressed in clothes that screamed $400 a piece, with rich, thick chains and jewellery adorning his body.
He looked half way between a pimp and a pawn shop owner. “Mr. James” Melanie then plastered a fake smile onto her face, anxiety racing through her mind. What was the landlord doing? What did he want?
“Melanie, I believe that we must discuss certain things, most importantly issues regarding the rent.”
“Oh, yes of course the rent!” She panicked. She stepped backward, beckoning a welcoming hand to her landlord, indicating that he should enter. “Please come in.”
He stepped through the door, and although he wasn't really intending on inspecting the apartment, his eyes darted around, assessing the quality it was being kept in, and Melanie could tell he wouldn't be very happy with the cluttered mess of papers, books and failed manuscripts that engulfed the apartment. He sat down on one of her kitchen chairs hesitantly, as if he would become contaminated.
Smiling, Melanie sat down across from him. “Bless this mess? I think it's going to bring me good luck. I got fired today. Coffee?” He shook his head, and Melanie paused, realizing she had just told her landlord that she had been fired.
“How are you going to come up with the money then?”
She had to explain, and would explain. The meeting with the publisher.
“Don't worry Mr. James, you will get you money, and I’ll never be late with the rent again.”He nodded his head with hesitation, slightly confused.
“But Melanie, you just told me you were fired today.”
“Yes, I was fired today.” She paused, biting her lip, realizing the story wasn’t going to sound good at all, then continued. “They gave me a little present before I leave the studio.” The man’s eyes lit up in understanding, but there was a certain reservation and caution.
He tapped his foot impatiently. He wanted his money.
“Three and a half grand. I'll get the money out of the bank for you tomorrow, but Mr. James, I just have to share this news with you. It's too good to be true and it's made me so happy.”
He nodded “Tell me.”
“I got the manuscript I sent off three weeks ago back today, and the manager of the publishing company and his wife wish to meet with me in person.” He nodded, extending a hand across the table.
They shook hands. “Congratulations Melanie. I wish you all the best.” He rose, heading towards the door. “I'll expect to be seeing my payment soon.”
Though he had cordially congratulated her success. She didn’t feel as though it was authentic.
“Tomorrow morning first thing!” Mr. James nodded as he moved to the door, Leaving Melanie staring at the peeling paintwork on the back of the door. She wanted to kick it. No one but she knew how happy this was making her.
Melanie picked up the phone, ringing up Amy, one of her friends, warning her that she would be coming around soon. Melanie didn't tell her why, but told her that all would be revealed soon enough.