The next day, Brian called before lunchtime. Mom and I were preparing ourselves to go to the supermarket to buy some stuff.
“Tahja, I am not sure what you did...”
With his words and his tone, I got worried.
“What did I do?”
Mom looked at me worried so I placed the speaker on my phone.
“Well, it’s actually good news for us.”
“What is it, you’re killing me with the suspense.”
“The hotel wants you to model their hotel elegantly, candidly, and romantically.”
“Me?”
“You.”
“When?”
“Two days from now.”
“Oh okay. I will go to the salon tomorrow for some help.”
“Bring it on.”
That left me quizzical and stunned. Did the owner, the billionaire himself talk to Brian? Was he or just his marketing staff who orchestrated for me to model? Who messaged me last night? Is it him or his staff? I
