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She’s wearing her usual look, eye-melting lipstick and impeccable makeup that fits her snarky brand, plus jade-green cosmic nails that look downright lethal.
There’s a malicious smile on her face as she introduces herself.
“Hiii, party people,” she drawls. “It’s your girl, Maggie, and I’m back with a whole freakin’ tea party today. Remember billionaire scumbag Shepherd Foster? The same Shepherd Foster who just pulverized Vanessa Dumas’ heart into little stabby pieces? Welllll...”
She stretches the word like her hideous smile.
I already know what’s coming next.
She tagged me, after all.
The sound of my own ragged breath fills my ears, but her shrill, attention-grabbing voice still penetrates.
“Some of you might remember the Young Influencers program he started? Clearly, a desperate attempt to polish up his company and make everybody forget about his dirty misdeeds. Spoiler alert: we didn’t. But the details are here if you wanna take a gander...” She points to the link her editor added to some tabloid garbage. “Dirty birdy benefactor aside, Young Influencers was an amazing opportunity with a very generous prize package. The money and terms are practically unheard of. A whole boatload of people applied. I know because I was one of them.”
She pauses, staring into the camera with a shrug.
“What? Don’t look at me like that!” she croons. “Before you get all judgy, don’t act like you wouldn’t take a pile of money from a dude who breathes small-dick energy too, if you could put it toward a good cause. Anyway...”
It feels like forever ago.
At the time, I was sure she’d be a top contender thanks to her reach alone, even if she’s as charming as a drunken rattlesnake.
Instead, they chose me.
“As y’all know, I missed out,” she says with a fake pout. Probably so everyone notices the subtle gradient from her wine-colored lip liner to the soft pink in the middle. “And who was the lucky winner? Destiny Lancaster! Yes,thatDessy, daughter of hardass hottie Cole and his coffee empire. You know I love my Wired Cup.” She pauses to hold up a cup of coffee with a familiar logo with the most punchable look on her face. “And doesn’t Dessy love to be Miss Invisibility?”
A picture of my face and channel appears beside her from my Insta link. I’m smiling with Mol, somewhere on Mount Rainier about a month ago.
Holy hell, no.
Molly whines and licks my face. It’s like she knows how screwed we are.
I dig my fingers into her fur. “It’s okay, girl. Don’t get upset for my sake...”
It’s almost worse that she can’t understand why I’m upsetting her.
“You might notice,” Meghan continues, “our Destiny doesn’t have the same platform as some folks in this industry. That’s whatever. That’s fine. Everyone has to start somewhere, right?” Her smug little smile looks painted on her face. “But well, let’s be real—it was a pretty big surprise when she got selected.”
“Jealous bitchface.” I glower at the screen.
“I mean, let’s think about it for a second. Home Shepherd wanted publicity, sure, and they wanted someone they could train, so they picked someone who doesn’t have the experience or the exposure they wanted. Weird, right?”
The only weird thing I see is that smirk under your overdone makeup,I think grimly.
But the video keeps going.
“Unless,” Meghan says in that lazy drawl that makes me want to scratch out her eyes. “Unless dearest Destiny did something awfullyjuicyto gain the CEO’s favor.”
A picture of Shepherd appears now from his corporate profile. He’s his usual handsome, stern self in a charcoal suit with the light catching his glacial-blue eyes.
Again, she smiles too wide for her face. “I mean, it adds up. Simple math. When you look like a model and you come from a rich family—well, you can find the answer too, can’t you?”
I don’t know how I avoid throwing my phone.
This is nasty, salacious stuff.
People might have thought the same crap privately for all I know, but now that she’s aired it in the open, everyone will think I went and fucked my way into my conservation money.
