Oh shit.
Oh shit, shit, shit.
Every possibility managed to shoot through my head at the same time, from the insignificant—him doing a tell-all video of how boring I was—to the extreme.
There were more options for that one.
Him sharing our dirty messages that weren’t even that dirty. Pictures he probably had of me in bikinis by my pool. Videos he probably had of me when I was drunk. Videos of us doing… stuff. I didn’t think he had any of those. I was too paranoid to ever agree to that. Knowingly agree, at least. And while I wanted to believe Josh wasn’t the kind of guy who would secretly film our intimate moments, did I really know him?
No.
No, I did not.
There was also the very real possibility any potential tell-all video was actually about my dad. I wasn’t sure he would link himself to a story he’d managed to stay out of, but again…
I didn’t really know him.
The thirty seconds somehow seemed to drag for thirty hours as I waited to get it over with. I answered the call on the first ring.
“Hello?”
“And hello to you, too. How’s life been? Anything new?”
“What do you want?”
“To give you a heads-up. And maybe a chance to fix things.”
My jaw would’ve dropped if I wasn’t too busy scowling. I had no idea why he wanted to fix things. More importantly, even if I wasn’t sleeping with Tripp,Iwould never want that. Ever.
I ignored the last part. “A heads-up about what? What video were you talking about?”
“Doug prescribing Xannies for an invite to that senator’s gala.”
My stomach sank as saliva filled my mouth. I breathed slowly through my nose, fighting against the nausea.
Maybe he’s bluffing.
But he wasn’t. I knew it even before he offered, “I can send it to you first if you want a private screening.”
“What do you want?” Dread mixed with the terror as my thoughts twisted round and round until I felt like I was restrained by panic. There was a lot I would do for my dad, especially if it was only until his plea deal was signed and official. But I drew the line at any kind of reconciliation with Josh.
That wasn’t what he was after, though. “A job.”
I sank back before a thought occurred to me, and I asked for clarification. “What kind of job?”
Because if it’s the hand or blow variety, you’re out of luck.
I’m not wasting my newly discovered skills on you.
“The acting kind,” he said before pausing. “Though if you’re offering the other kind, I won’t say no.”
“I can’t get you an acting job.”
“No, but your boss can. I knew that was you in those pictures of Tripp Carter with the hottie on Christmas. But then I was like, no way. You were always all high and mighty, not caring about celebs, so I talked myself out of it. Imagine my surprise when I opened TikTok today, and there you were. Literally, every other video on my feed. Guess without your daddy’s money paying all your bills, you had to get a job, huh? And now you see what I put up with as a PA. It sucks, right?”
I made a noncommittal murmur since it didn’t suck. I’d expected it to, but I loved working for Tripp.
“It’s fucking hilarious that people think you two are dating.” Josh backed up his statement with genuine laughter, like the idea that Tripp would be attracted to me was so outlandish. “You’re public enemy number one with his fangirls.”
