The Boy Next Door Read Online Free
Author: Meg Cabot
Subject: I can’t
You know I can’t go. How am I supposed to go all the way out to Long Island when I have Paco to think of? You know he has to go out every four to five hours. I am wearing out my Steve Maddens as it is, running back and forth between the office and my apartment building, trying to get there in time to take him out. There’s no way I can go all the way out to Long Island. The poor thing might explode.
Mel
P.S.: Vivica—you know, the supermodel, and Donald Trump’s latest arm candy—has dumped him! Seriously! She’s dumped the Donald! He is said to be devastated, and she’s gone into hiding.
Poor things. I really thought that one was going to work out.
To: Mel Fuller
From: Nadine Wilcock
Subject: Paco
Okay, this is ridiculous. Mel, you cannot put your life on hold just because your next-door neighbor happens to be in a coma. Seriously. There must be someone in the woman’s family who can look after that stupid dog. Why do YOU have to do it?
You’ve done enough, for God’s sake. I mean, you probably saved her life. Let someone else handle Paco and his digestive schedule.
I mean it. I am not getting into that pool on my own. If you don’t find this woman’s next of kin, I will.
Nad :-(
P.S.: Excuse me, I understand your concern for Winona, but the Donald? And Vivica, the Victoria’s Secret Wonder Bra girl? They’ll be fine. Trust me.
To: Nadine Wilcock
From: Mel Fuller
Subject: Paco
It’s easy for you to say let someone else handle Paco. My question would be: WHO?
Mrs. Friedlander’s only living relative is her nephew, Max, and not even the cops have been able to find him to tell him what happened to her. I know he lives somewhere in the city, but his phone number’s unlisted. Apparently, he’s some up-and-coming photographer with pictures in the Whitney, or something. At least, according to his aunt. And quite popular with the ladies…ergo, the unlisted number, I assume so the ladies’ husbands can’t track him down.
And of course his aunt doesn’t have his number written down anywhere because she undoubtedly had it memorized.
In any case, what can I do? I can’t put the poor thing in a kennel. He’s already freaked out enough about his owner being…well, you know. How can I leave him locked up in some cage somewhere? Seriously, Nadine, if you saw his eyes, you wouldn’t be able to do it, either. He is the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen, and that includes nephews.
If only he were a man. I’d marry him. I swear it.
Mel
To: Nadine Wilcock
From: Tony Salerno
Subject: What do you mean you’re not going?
Nadine, you HAVE to go. The party is for YOU. Well, you and me. You can’t not go.
And don’t give me any of that bull about how you don’t want anybody in my family to see you in a swimsuit. How many times do I have to tell you that you are the hottest girl in the world? Do you think I care what size you wear? You have it going on, girl.
Only you should wear those thongs I bought you more often.
I don’t understand what difference it makes whether or not Mel goes. Why do women always have to do things together? It doesn’t make any sense.
Besides, if you feel that strongly about it, just tell them you have an ear infection and can’t get in the water.
Jeez. I don’t get you dames. I really don’t.
Tony
To: Mel Fuller
cc: Nadine Wilcock
From: Dolly Vargas
Subject: Your little problem
Darlings:
I couldn’t help but overhear your little tête-à-tête in the ladies’ just now. I was otherwise occupied, or I would have joined in (we really ought to talk to someone about how narrow those stalls are). Fortunately, Jimmy—you
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