John P.O.V.
I am sitting in my bedroom of my apartment in DC listening to Brittany complain about her father’s latest restriction on her spending. I am staring down at my phone looking at the text message I just got from Jessica. She is still in Border City and wanted to know when I will be back. She says there is something we need to talk about. I throw the phone on the night table. I bet she has seen the tabloid with my picture on them with Brittany.
“He doesn’t understand. I need those shoes for the benefit dinner tomorrow.”
“Why not wear the black ones you wore last week?” I ask. I miss Amelia. She could put together the same outfit multiple ways for different events and never have to buy anything new. Brittany on the other hand can not be seen twice in the same shoes.
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