So the hateful guy I slept with the first night I saw him and who helped me so much was simply Mark Dummont, the most successful, most sought-after, best ranked and, clearly, most coveted businessman among women from all over Europe. Yes, just him.
Good for me!
Now tell me what the hell did I get myself into? I knew I could fake a systematic failure and pretend to be dying; I could pretend to faint or have a seizure, and then they would have to go away and let me die of shame in peace. Nah, none of that was going to save me now. The guy was my boss, and I had to assume I slept with him, that's all.
Simple: Don't you believe it?
I looked at Mark but his serious face was something I had not seen... Oh, except in the car when he was looking out the window, it was true, the guy was extreme
