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CHAPTER 17
I've been coaching myself to get over it.
We called it. We're done. We won't try anymore, and I should get over it. So, that's what I'm doing by sitting in my apartment and eating Oreos. The GQ photoshoot is this afternoon, meaning I need to get there before the guest of honor gets there. Am I getting dressed? Nope. Apparently, watching Say Yes to the Dress (again) while eating fattening cookies is more important.
Pedro is sitting by my foot, staring up at me with a wide-eyed look. I feel as if he's judging me for indulging in sweets instead of doing my job.
That, or he wants an Oreo.
"Don't give me that look," I say to him. "I'm over it. I've cried my tea
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