Chapter 40

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It took two weeks, roughly thirty phone calls to me, and a lot of grumbling before Sophie finally made a decision. Although she swore to me that the idea of being linked to Richard made her want to swan dive off the top of the U.S. Bank Tower, she also confessed what I'd known all along: that it made zero sense for her to say anything but yes to working with Armada.

Based on the anxious way that she fiddled with her rings and bit her lip when she told me that she planned to agree, I knew she still didn't believe that I was genuinely alright with the situation and doubted that she ever would. Even though I knew it was sweet for her to be so worried about me, at the same time, I'd completely run out of ways to assure her that I wasn't on the brink of a jealousy fueled implosion. Maybe I was crazy for not being worried about Richard or how he felt about Sophie but, honestly, all I wanted was for her to be happy-that was it.

On the day that Sophie was supposed to meet with Richard and Armada to discuss the details of the contract, I stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby of my office on my way back from lunch, whistling and readying myself to drum on Melanie's desk when I walked by. As I approached, though, I saw that she was staring down at her lap and grinning from ear to ear. I watched her quickly wipe her eyes before looking up at me. "Hey," she said. The smile on her face remained impossibly wide.

"What's up?" I asked, resting my arms on the tabletop and leaning over to study her. "You look insanely happy right now-did Michael ask you out or something?"

Melanie stood up and rolled her eyes at my joke. "Don't be so disgusting," she said, and waved a piece of paper in my face. "I got in."

I shrugged, not understanding. "In where?"

The paper continued to flap in front of my eyes and I struggled to focus on the words on the page. Congratulations! After extensive review of your application by our Admissions Committee, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to the master's program for sports physical therapy at Los Angeles University... I looked up from the acceptance letter and moved to pull Melanie into a hug. "Hey, that's awesome," I said. "Congratulations."

"Thank you," Melanie replied, brushing away a new set of tears. "I'm so happy, you have no idea."

"I can imagine," I said, though a pang of guilt hit me in the chest. "Man, I feel like a terrible friend, Mel. I had no idea you were trying to go back to school."

"Don't be silly," Melanie said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I didn't tell anyone except my family."

"Why not?"

Melanie folded the letter back into three neat rectangles. "Because I would've been really embarrassed if I hadn't gotten into any of the schools that I applied to."

"Didn't you have really good grades in college, though?" I asked. "You knew you were getting in somewhere."

"I mean, I hoped I would," Melanie admitted, blushing. "But sports P.T. is such a competitive program... LAU's the only school I've even heard back from."

I opened my mouth to reply and then realized something. "Wait, we're going to be going to the same university," I exclaimed, catching the attention of a few agents as they walked back to their offices. They looked at Melanie and me curiously before returning to their conversation.

Melanie nodded and I felt my own smile begin to mirror hers. "This is monumental," I said, lifting my hand to high five her. As Melanie's palm struck mine, I added, "What are you doing after work? I'll buy you dinner."

"You don't have to," Melanie replied, though her protest was half-hearted at best. I clapped her on the shoulder and shook my head.

"Just tell me where you want to go and I'll make a reservation."

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