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“Look, Chloe.” Kristin walked over and caressed my hand. “Do you remember when you got upset last year after five people left angry emojis while commenting on that Facebook post you made about Nutella?”
“All I said was that it’s overrated, and it costs too much. Those psychopaths attacked me for no reason.”
“Yeah, well … You cried over that for like three days, so imagine the toll it would take if five-thousand people commented on every single thing you did.”
“There’s no way five-thousand people know who this man is.”
“You’re right,” Kristin said. “It’s far more. Tyler Carrington is beyond celebrity status. Ex-royal or not, he’s always been the most popular one in the family—not to mention the most attractive—and I think the press is about to go into coverage overload.”
“I’m not trying to make him look bad or anything,” I said. “I just thought that maybe if I said something—”
“They’ll rip you apart and make you want to die.” Madison interrupted, looking worried. “Take it from the people who actually pay attention to celebrity culture, okay? You can’t go that route. Ever.”
“Fine. I won’t say a word.” I leaned back. “What’s my next best move, then?”
“Find a way to tell him in private and hope that the people who came over with him can work out a contingency plan.” Kristin slid onto the chair across from me.
“Do I tell him now or later?”
“Now.”
“Shouldn’t I research him or something first?” I wasn’t ready to see him again. “Just so I can get to know who I’m really dealing with? I mean, he did lie to me…”
“Did you do any research before you had sex with him? Did you care about him potentially lying then?”
“Seriously, Kristin?”
She laughed and tapped her phone’s screen. “I’ll give you a quick crash course, and then you need to get back to Rogue. No offense, but you can’t afford to skip a day of work.”
