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Daisy Roy auditioned for a movie role this morning. Turns out, the tears are because the role went to Tiffany Bryant, the reality star she had gone head-to-head with in last season’s Single Girls of LA.
Looks like the flower got stung by a bee.
Better luck next time, Miss Roy.
“They stole my flower idea.”
“I can’t even with you right now,” I told him and clicked on the alert.
A series of photos appeared above the full article. Daisy was holding a tissue under her eyes, her face in a full-blown ugly cry. I flipped to the next one, a different angle, but this shot showed a close-up of her tears.
There was a girl next to her, holding a notepad and a set of keys. A quick zoom revealed a Mercedes emblem on the fob and Daisy’s hot-pink keychain that used to hold the key for her BMW.
That had to be her new assistant.
And in the next picture, it looked like Daisy was screaming at the poor girl.
The last shot was the most interesting. Her assistant was trying to get in the passenger seat of Daisy’s new Mercedes while Daisy was driving away without her.
They were all very normal reactions from my sister, the way she acted when she didn’t get her way, but this was the first time she had been caught on camera.
“Oh God, she’s going to lose her mind over this.” I slowly looked up. “And you know she’s going to blame me.”
She despised Tiffany.
In Daisy’s eyes, this was the worst thing that could have happened to her.
Aside from what I’d supposedly done.
I held the glass to my lips and downed several sips.
“Time for a refill?”
I took a few breaths. “As long as your makeup can make this hungover face look halfway decent in the morning, keep pouring.”
He wiggled his fingers in the air. “These hands can work wonders, baby.”
