The Game Changer (3 page)

After Olivia had thrown her things into her bedroom and shut the door, announcing that she would deal with it later, they had gone down the street and picked up Chinese take-out for dinner. Back at the apartment—
their
apartment, Melody thought with a grin—they had gorged on greasy food, watched movies, and drank more wine. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such a fun evening. Rick had always been a very picky eater, and was selective about the movies he watched, so evenings in with him tended to be a yawn-fest for Melody.

No more of that
, Melody thought. No more monotony, bland food, or wondering what award-winning—aka mind-numbing—movie she would have to watch next. With Rick gone, she would finally have a normal life again. She and Olivia had talked the night before about things they wanted to do—dinner parties, shopping sprees, movie nights, road trips to Kingston. Melody was sure Olivia would drag her out to Atlantis, the new nightclub in town, sooner than later.

It wasn’t that Melody was against going to clubs. She loved to dance, and it was nice to let loose once in awhile. She and Olivia always had a blast together, but part of her hated going with Olivia—she was so beautiful that guys were drawn to her, and Melody ended up feeling invisible. It had always been that way. Melody was the cute sidekick, and she had grown accustomed to that, but it would still be nice to have some of that attention herself.

Olivia had always told her to be more assertive, but Melody thought that was easy for a person to say when she looked like Rachel McAdams and was able to draw the attention of every man in the room. With glossy honey-coloured hair and striking aqua eyes, Olivia’s face should have been gracing the covers of magazines worldwide.

Olivia had a love/hate relationship with the attention she gained based on her appearance. There were times when she thrived on the interest of a roomful of men, and times when she wished she could be the one who felt invisible.

“It sucks never knowing whether a guy is interested in you because he thinks you’re hot or because he genuinely wants to get to know you better,” Olivia had told Melody several years before. At that time, she’d been through a few failed relationships because the guy only wanted to show her off to his friends or treat her like a piece of property rather than a human being. She had become fairly jaded after that, and told Melody she was no longer interested in relationships unless they were of a physical nature.

“It’s the twenty-first century,” she’d told Melody one night as they got ready to go out to a club in downtown Toronto. “I’m a single woman in my twenties with a healthy sexual appetite, and there are plenty of men out there willing to help me whet that appetite. If I want to have a good time with a few of them, I think I should be allowed to.”

Olivia had several rules about the men she would sleep with, and she also had a rule that pertained to Melody. Because they saw each other so infrequently, whenever Melody was in town and they went out, it was strictly girls’ night. She could flirt all she wanted, let guys buy her drinks, maybe even dance with a couple of them, but her focus remained mostly on Melody, and she never went home with a guy on those nights.

Melody wondered how that would work now that they were living together. Would Olivia bring guys back to their apartment? Would she leave Melody and go home with a guy? Melody had been out with friends who’d ditched her halfway through the night, leaving her to find her own way home. She had quickly learned never to drink too much, and to always have enough money in her purse for a cab ride.

Once she met Rick, she didn’t have to worry about any of that anymore because her clubbing days had come to an abrupt end. Rick didn’t like to dance, and he didn’t like to shell out money for cover fees and drinks. He also didn’t like it when Melody went to bars with her friends, so she had stopped going except on her rare weekends in Toronto with Olivia.

A creaking sound from across the room pulled Melody out of her thoughts. A second later, she felt the sheets lift on the other side of the bed, and a warm body slid in beside her and snuggled up against her back.

“Um…” Melody said.

Olivia let out a sleepy giggle. “We’re roommates, Mel! We always dreamed of being roommates.”

“I know.” An uncontrollable grin spread over Melody’s face. “When you moved away, I thought it would never happen. I definitely didn’t think it would happen ten years after we graduated from high school.”

“Right?” Olivia said. “It’s so exciting. We’ve both made huge changes in our lives, and we get to start over together. We can pretend we’re eighteen again, and that we just graduated from high school, and life hasn’t had a chance to really screw us over yet.”

Melody laughed. “Sounds like a plan to me.” She nudged Olivia so she would back up, then rolled over to face her. The two of them had been sharing a bed since they were eight years old. Even as adults, when each of them had a spare bedroom in their apartment, they still shared a bed whenever they spent a weekend together.

“Do you think we’ll drive each other nuts? It’s been a long time since we were together 24/7,” Melody said.

“But we won’t be together 24/7,” Olivia reasoned. “You work, I’ll get a job when the whole lady of leisure thing gets old, and we’ll each have our own lives. Plus, we know each other’s buttons and how to avoid pushing them.”

“True,” Melody agreed.

“We’ll find you a rebound guy to keep you occupied.” Olivia wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Melody scoffed. “A rebound guy? Please.”

“Come on, why not? You could use a little hot, sweaty sex. I bet there was no hot, sweaty sex with Rick.”

Melody scoffed again, but she could feel heat rushing to her cheeks. Olivia was right, of course. Sex with Rick hadn’t been
bad
it just wasn’t very exciting. It was monotonous, like everything else he did. “
Anyway
,” Melody said pointedly. “I can’t do meaningless sex the way you can.”

“How do you know if you’ve never tried?” Olivia asked.

She had a point, Melody thought a bit begrudgingly. But she wasn’t about to admit that to Olivia. “It’s too soon,” she said instead. “Rick and I just broke up.”

“Hence the rebound part,” Olivia said, rolling onto her back and examining her nails. “A rebound is a catalyst for helping you move on—you get a reminder that you’re still a sexy, vibrant, young woman; it makes you feel good, gives you a jolt of confidence, and you move on.”

“I’ll think about it,” Melody said, although they both knew she wouldn’t.

Olivia nodded anyway, and Melody realized she looked far too pleased with herself. “Good. You can think about it at Atlantis this weekend. There should be tons of hot guys around.”

Melody groaned and opened her mouth to speak, but Olivia cut her off. “You’re single for the first time in three years, Mel! You need to live a little. I’m not saying you have to go home with some random guy this weekend, but at least check out what Bellevue has to offer in the hot guy department. Besides, I think we deserve to celebrate. Your split from Rick, me quitting my job, us finally being roommates after all these years. Don’t you think that calls for copious amounts of booze and some ass-shaking on the dance floor?”

Melody chuckled. “Yeah, I guess it does,” she conceded. “Especially if you’re paying for the copious amounts of booze.”

“It’s my duty as your new sugar mama,” Olivia said with a wink before rolling to the edge of the bed. “Now get up and get ready for work. And give me the number of a good nail salon, will you? My nails are getting ragged, and I can finally afford to have them done professionally.”

“I go to a girl named Amelia who runs a small business from her house on West Street.” Melody reached for her purse beside the bed and fished around until she came up with a business card. “She’s inexpensive, and she does the coolest designs I’ve ever seen. Plus she has these two unbelievably cute little boys who are like free entertainment while you’re getting your nails done.”

“Perfect.” Olivia took the card with a nod of thanks, then crossed the room. “While you’re in the shower I’m going to make you a smoothie that will knock your socks off.”

Melody smiled as Olivia disappeared around the corner. Yes, she was really going to enjoy having her best friend around.

*****

That afternoon when Melody got home from work, she froze in the doorway and stared around her apartment. She always took pride in the appearance of her home—it was beautiful and unique, just the type of place she’d always dreamed of living while she was growing up. But it had been transformed in the eight hours she’d been gone.

The furniture in the spacious living room had been rearranged so the area looked even larger; the windows, which began at about waist height and stretched almost to the ceiling before ending in an arch, were gleaming and spotless, allowing sunlight to fill the rooms and illuminate them. Melody stepped further into the apartment and noticed that the kitchen counters and appliances had been polished to a high shine.

Her eyes scanned the entire apartment and finally settled on Olivia, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor near one of the windows, surrounded by what appeared to be all of Melody’s clothes.

“I hope you’re not upset,” Olivia said, looking anxious. “Turns out I’m not cut out for the lady of leisure gig. I went back to bed after you left, but couldn’t relax. There was nothing on TV, I don’t have anything to read—which is ironic since we live above a bookstore—and I didn’t know what else to do, so I did what I always do when I’m restless.”

“You cleaned.” Melody said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, because to her, it was. Ever since they were kids, Olivia maintained that she didn’t get bored, she got restless. She claimed that boredom was for people with no imagination, but she had an abundance of imagination. Whenever she was feeling restless or had nothing else to do, she would clean—her bedroom, her parents’ garage, the rec room where they spent most of their Saturday afternoons. She would scrub, rearrange furniture, organize paperwork. Melody realized that strange little trait of Olivia’s could come in very handy.

“I know I could have gone out,” Olivia said, setting aside a piece of black material and standing in a fluid, graceful motion, “but I’m not used to Bellevue anymore, so I wanted to wait for you. So I cleaned. And then I raided your closet.”

“My closet,” Melody said slowly, suddenly understanding the pile of clothes on the floor. “But why…?”

“I wanted to see what you have before we go shopping.” Olivia crossed the room and took Melody’s arm, leading her to a stool at the kitchen counter. “You have some great pieces, they just need a little adjusting.”

“Adjusting,” Melody said, realizing she kept repeating things Olivia was saying. She was still sort of shocked. Her apartment had never looked this good, not even when she’d spent all day cleaning it herself.

Olivia poured them each a glass of wine and set Melody’s in front of her before going to pick up the black material she’d been holding when Melody walked in. “Like this dress, for example,” she said, holding it up so Melody could see.

It was the dress Melody had worn the night she broke up with Rick. The dress she had
not
been proposed to while wearing. The dress that had cost more than any other piece of clothing in her closet. Only, it wasn’t exactly the same dress; the hem was now about five inches shorter. “What did you do to my dress?”

“I enhanced it,” Olivia said matter-of-factly, ignoring the look of horror on Melody’s face. “You’ve got a killer body, but you hide it under clothes that are too big, or not the right cut for your shape. This will show off your legs, and I have a red belt that you can use to cinch in the waist to make it look fitted. Pair that with some red FMPs and some of your trademark silver jewelry, and you’ll be beating guys away with a stick.”

Melody stared at her friend in disbelief. When she opened her mouth, she wasn’t sure what would come out first, but she didn’t expect it to be, “What are FMPs?”

“Fuck me pumps,” Olivia said in that same matter-of-fact tone. “You know—strappy, sexy, make your legs look great, and make your bum appear higher and firmer.”

Melody picked up her glass of wine and downed half in one gulp. “Fuck me pumps,” she muttered. Where did Olivia come up with this stuff?

“I didn’t make it up,” Olivia said, as if reading her mind. “Don’t forget I’m in the fashion business. I may not be designing clothes like I always planned to do, but I’ve been working in a high-end boutique for the last few years. Trust me. It’s time you learn that you’re not the cute little sidekick you’ve always thought you were. You’re a hottie. I see it, now you just need to see it.”