13 - H-O-T
Summer
I chugged a large gulp of cheap wine and stared at the articles and their atrocious headlines. ‘Twenty-two-year-old Hate-Love Star Flirting With the Dashing CEO of Moore Beauty: Do You Think Sugar Daddy Damon Is H-O-T? Read More!’
Gross.
Even if he paid me a grand to be in his presence, I wouldn’t accept it. I’d need at least fifty to sixty grand in this economy.
I wonder what his face would look like when he finds out about the rumors. I snickered, drinking more wine. His nose would flare, and he’d snap or bark at anyone closest to him before calling me.
I hope he doesn’t.
Slumping on the couch, I scrolled through more articles until I opened my emails and stopped at the one that said, ‘Confidential.’ I sat up straighter.
Are the producers going to keep me i
