The Boy Next Door Read Online Free Page A

know, the new fax boy—is quite surprisingly flexible, or we never would have managed. ;-)
    First of all, Mel, sweetheart, Max Friedlander did not have just any old picture in the Whitney—which you would know, if you ever ventured out of Blockbuster long enough to take in some real culture. He had a stunning self-portrait on display there for the Biennial, in which he was sans apparel. If you ask me, the man’s a photographic genius.
    Though that may not be where his true talent lies, judging by that photo…if you get my drift.
    And I’m sure you do.
    Anyway, he has, for reasons unfathomable to me, chosen to cheapen his gift by prostituting himself out for photo shoots, such as, just as an example, last winter’s Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue. And he just finished up the Victoria’s Secret Christmas catalog, I believe.
    All you have to do, children, is contact those so-called publications, and I’m sure they’ll know how to get a message to him.
    Well, ta for now.
    XXXOOO
    Dolly
    P.S.: Oh, Mel, about Aaron. Look, can’t you throw him a bone? He’s no good to me like this. And all that Wagner is giving me a migraine.

To: Nadine Wilcock
    From: Mel Fuller
    Subject: Max Friedlander
    Listen, thanks to Dolly, I think I’ve finally managed to track down Max Friedlander!
    At least, no one seems to have his number, but I’ve got ane-mail address. Help me draft a note to him. You know I don’t do well with groveling.
    Mel

To: Max Friedlander
    From: Mel Fuller
    Subject: Your aunt
    Dear Mr. Friedlander,
    I hope you get this. You are probably not aware that the police have been trying to reach you for several days now. I am sorry to inform you that your aunt, Helen Friedlander, has been seriously injured. She has been the victim of an assault in her apartment.
    She is currently listed in critical condition at Beth Israel Hospital here in New York. Unfortunately, she is in a coma, and the doctors have no way of knowing if she will ever come out of it.
    Please, Mr. Friedlander, if you get this message, call me as soon as possible on my cell phone, 917-555-2123, or if you prefer, please feel free to e-mail me. We need to discuss how you think your aunt would best like her pets cared for while she is in the hospital.
    I know this is the last thing you need to be worried about right now, considering how grave your aunt’s condition is, but I can’t imagine that, being the great animal lover she is, your aunt didn’t have some sort of proviso arranged for just this sort of circumstance. I am her next-door neighbor (in apartment 15B), and I have been walking Paco and taking care of your aunt’s cats, but I’m afraid that my schedule does not allow for full-time pet care. Taking care of Paco is beginning to affect my job performance.
    Please contact me as soon as you can.
    Melissa Fuller

To: Mel Fuller
    From: Nadine Wilcock
    Subject: The letter
    I like it. Short but sweet. And it gets the point across.
    Nad :)
    P.S.: I think it’s good you left out the part about all your tardies. No one in the real world cares about tardies. Just at OUR $@%#ing workplace does anyone keep track of how late we are.

To: Nadine Wilcock
    From: Mel Fuller
    Subject: The letter
    Yeah, but do you think he’ll even get it? From what I can tell based on the people I’ve talked to so far, this Max Friedlander seems to be taking the role of playboy artiste to brand new heights. In fact, I can’t believe he’s never hit Page Ten before!
    Plus, it seems like he’s always on the road. The guy was in Thailand on a shoot last month, Hawaii last week, and this week, who knows? Nobody seems to have any idea where he is.
    Oh, and it’s no good trying his cell phone: According to Sports