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Dominick: I also need you.
Me: Good thing that my lips and I are a package deal. ;)
Dominick: I should punish you for making me wait.
Me: Yes … please.
“All right, girl, let’s get this done,” Charlize said from the hallway, halfway between the living room and my bedroom.
I slid the phone into my back pocket and followed him into the closet. I scanned the upper and lower racks that were the whole length of the rectangular-shaped room. Lots of the clothes and shoes and accessories were things I’d brought when I moved in, and the rest were things the show had provided.
I lifted a sparkly, backless gold dress into my hands. “I offered to return all the outfits they gave me, and Shane said I could keep them.”
“Finally, homeboy said something worth listening to.”
“Except where am I going to wear all this stuff?” I set the dress in a box and took a flaming-hot red jumpsuit off the rack. “Clubbing is no longer my full-time profession.”
He walked over to the far wall, where a blazer was hanging on one of the hooks, and he held it in front of him. “Hair up, big hoops in your ears, and only pasties underneath this jacket. Button both buttons, so the tatas stay hidden and just your cleavage shows. Leather pants on the bottom and stilettos.” His stare left the jacket and moved over to me. “If you don’t wear that exact outfit to our next dinner date, I’m divorcing you.”
It did sound like the perfect ensemble.
But getting out of the house without Dominick tearing off all my clothes and spreading me over the kitchen counter would be a miracle.
“How about you come over and style me for dinner?” That would certainly be one way to keep myself from getting ravaged. “And I’ll edit your photos for social media.”
“Honey, for that deal, I’ll do your hair and makeup too.”
“Done.”
He pulled a stack of jeans off a shelf. “I’m dreaming about the custom closet you’re going to have at Prince Charming’s house.”
“His is impressive and quite full.” I loaded a handful of yoga pants into a box. “So, I’m sure I’ll take over one of the guest rooms.”
“Which he’ll pimp out for you, I’m sure.”
“I doubt it.”
“Seriously?” He eyed me down as I knelt in front of a pile of tank tops. “The man is wildly in love with you. He invited you to move in, and he’s going to give you somewhere to hang your clothes that’s not just a lonely little rack in a guest room.”
I shrugged. “And if he doesn’t, I’ll keep my stuff in boxes, and I’ll make it work.”
“Jesus … I know why that man loves you.” He came closer, his hands cupping my cheeks. “I swear, every time we hang out, you prove that point further and further.” He pulled me against him. “They just don’t make them like you anymore.”
I squeezed back. “Or you.”
The sound of Dominick’s ringtone came from my back pocket, and I released him to grab the phone. “Hey,” I said, holding it against my face. “Weirdly, we were just talking about you.”
“You’re at the apartment?”
I stared at Charlize’s glowing face as I said, “Yes. Why?”
“Go turn on your TV, channel forty-two. Baby, hurry.”
Holding the phone to my ear, I rushed over to the nightstand and picked up the remote, turning on the flat screen that hung on the wall. I pressed the buttons, channel forty-two appearing on the screen.
I recognized the logo for the popular network, two of their famous newscasters talking at the desk.
“What am I watching?” I asked Dominick, Charlize standing next to me.
“You’ll see,” Dominick replied.
“Before we answer your burning questions on why Selena Gomez and Bella Hadid are rumored to be after the same man, we have a little bit of a newsbreak interruption,” Penelope said, one of the anchors of the celebrity news channel.
“That’s right,” Niko said, her coanchor. “We have to pause things for just a moment to welcome a guest on our show.” The camera widened, showing Ted taking a seat between them. “For those of you watching who aren’t familiar, this is Ted Truscott, the CEO of Happy Lite, the studio that’s producing the highly anticipated show Glitzy & Fabulous. Welcome, Ted. We’re happy to have you here.”
“Oh my God,” I gasped.
“Keep watching,” Dominick instructed.
“Thank you,” Ted said. “I appreciate you letting me stop by.”
The screen behind them suddenly showed my headshot, and I stopped breathing.
“This woman”—Ted pointed at the photo of me—“hardly needs any introduction, as she’s seen quite a wave of popularity since agreeing to be on our show, but if you aren’t aware, this is Kendall Roy. Our poor Kendall has been involved in a bit of a media scandal lately when some private footage of her was released.”
Charlize grabbed my hand, and Dominick said, “Trust me, this is about to get good.”
“Since the scandal,” Ted continued, “rumors have been swirling, and I’ve come here to set the record straight.”
“I know we’ve certainly heard a bunch,” Penelope mentioned, using her hand to count. “That the show is getting canceled before it even airs; that Kendall is being replaced with someone new; that her sister, Daisy Roy, is going to be the star of the show now. Ted, please clear up this gossip. Our viewers are dying for the truth.”
“First, I want to state that Kendall had nothing to do with the release of the footage. The person who sent the shots to Celebrity Alert was, regrettably, a member of our staff.”
Penelope almost choked.
Niko scowled at Ted.
“As the CEO, I’m horrified that this took place, that an employee would disrespect Kendall, our studio, and our trust in such a disgusting, disrespectful way.”
Emotion was surging in my chest, my entire body shaking as I listened.
