Changing Roles Read online Melanie Moreland

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Drama, Romance Tags Authors:
Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 101557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
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Read Online Books/Novels:

Changing Roles

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Melanie Moreland

Language:
English
Book Information:

Lights! Camera! Clueless!
Liam Wright is Hollywood’s golden boy and at the top of the A-list.
But what he doesn’t know about life… Well, it could fill his very large Hollywood mansion. Thankfully, he’s got Shelby Carter in his world to keep him—and his house—camera-ready. Part confidante, part master chef, Shelby is his best friend and the only one who knows the real Liam.
Pampered, pretty, and often puzzled, Liam and his antics keep her on her toes, and there is never a dull moment living with him.
Until one day, Liam sees her as more…and he wants her to see him for the man he can be. The man he wants to be.
For her. Is Liam up for the part?
Brand new comedic standalone from NYT/WSJ Bestselling author Melanie Moreland!
Books by Author:

Melanie Moreland



1

Liam

Familiar scenery sped by, blurred and fast under the streetlights. I relaxed against the plush leather of the limo, grateful to be heading home. I rested my head back, trying to stay calm as thoughts of the rushed escape filtered through my mind. Desperate to get home, I ditched security and everything keeping me in New York and headed for the airport. When the looks of recognition had begun, my anxiety had ramped up, but I concentrated on my goal and got to the gate and on the plane. I had purchased two seats, so I was alone, and no one bothered me. Once we landed, I sprinted through the airport, head down, my breathing returning to normal once the driver pulled away from the terminal and I hadn’t been recognized. It had been a big risk, but I had done it.

We pulled up to the gates, and my sigh was long and appreciative. I had made it.

Light spilled out through the windows, shining brightly against the deep black of the night. I glanced at my watch, frowning. It was three o’clock in the morning; why was she still awake? I grabbed the bag beside me, wished Dean a good night and waved the driver away—I was famous, but my arms worked. I was still capable of carrying my own luggage.

I entered the house, grinning right away at the sound that greeted me. Journey was blaring out of the speakers, which meant only one thing. If eighties music was playing, Shelby was ironing.

I followed the music to the kitchen and stood in the doorway, smiling at the sight before me. Sure enough, Shelby was in front of the ironing board, her head moving to the music, her socked feet tapping away as she sang in her delightfully awful off-key voice with Steve Perry while she pressed my shirts. My clothes were hanging everywhere—dress shirts, trousers, even my T-shirts, which I told her all the time didn’t need ironing, were done and folded neatly on the table beside her. I had, in fact, told her to use a service to do all this, but she refused, saying it was part of her job.

I cleared my throat loudly, and she snapped up her head. She beamed widely in greeting as she grabbed the remote and turned down the music.

“You’re gonna go deaf listening to this bloody shit so loud,” I teased.

“Already am. At my age, hearing is the first thing to go. And it’s not shit. It’s classic.”

I rolled my eyes at her; you would think she was twenty years my senior, not five. I stepped forward and kissed her cheek. “Hey, Shelby.”

“Hi, Liam. You’re home early.”

“And you’re still awake.” I knew she had problems sleeping when I wasn’t home. She often stayed up late doing mundane chores to pass the time. Her words confirmed my suspicions.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

I frowned. “All right there?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. Why are you home? Everett never called to say you were coming early.”

I grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator. I took a long swallow before answering. “Right. Ah, he may not know.”

She set down the iron, narrowing her eyes. “What did you do now?” She groaned.

I shook my head. “Nothing! They were idiots, Shelby. The woman interviewing me had no bloody clue. She droned on and on about some crap relating to the economy. I’m an actor, for God’s sake. Not a market manager.”

Shelby laughed. “But you play one on the big screen.”

I laughed with her. “Hence the acting thing. Seriously, she kept asking me to talk in different accents, like I was some sort of puppet. And touching me.” I shuddered. “I got tired of dodging her and her stupid questions and walked out.”

“How did you get home?”

“I booked a flight, called for a limo, and presto! Here I am.”

She stepped forward, concerned. “Was everything okay? Were you all right?”

Her worry touched me. “Yeah. The airline had security walk with me. A crowd got close in the airport, but he pulled me into some hidden hallway, and I stayed calm.”

“Okay, good.” Shelby sighed then settled her hand on her hip. “That’s the third interview you’ve walked out of this month, Liam.”

“I’m aware.”

She rolled her eyes. “Temperamental British actor.”

“Piss off.”

Shelby chuckled as I sat down and inhaled deeply, moaning at the delicious aroma that surrounded me.

“Shelby?”

“Hmm?”

“Why do I smell turkey?”

Her voice was filled with mirth. “Because you were due back tomorrow, and I knew what you’d want when you came home.”

“Brilliant girl you are. Is it ready?”

“Yep.”

“I want one.”

“Now?”

“Yeah. In fact, two. I didn’t eat on the plane.”

“Milk?”

“Yeah. And a shot of whiskey for after. It’s been a day.”

“Okay. Go sit on the sofa, and I’ll get it ready.”

I wandered into the den and sat, enjoying the comfort of the deep, plush cushions. I pulled off my tie, undoing the top button of my shirt, and drawing in a deep breath as I listened to Shelby moving around the kitchen, making me sandwiches.

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