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"Creator House," she says. "It's a bunch of influencers in Nashville who all live here together to collaborate on content for their social media."
"This is an actual thing?"
"Yep."
"You're not a member?"
She wrinkles her nose, quickly shaking her head. "Olive was for a while before she left so I get invited to stuff here all the time. I only come when she makes me. But no, I'm not a member of Club Za."
"Why not? Hold that thought." I push the door closed before circling around to the driver's side to climb in. "Okay, now explain."
"Bossy," she mumbles.
"I heard that."
"You were supposed to hear that."
I grin, shaking my head. "Explain, baby."
"They have too many rules. I prefer to make my own," she says with a shrug. "Besides, I don't really fit in."
"Why the fuck not?"
"They're mostly dancers or performance artists. I'm not." She settles back against the seat, a furrow between her brows. "They also plan to do this long term."
"You don't?"
"Honestly?" She rolls her head to the side to look at me. "I don't know. I never set out to gain a lot of followers or start modeling or any of this. It just kind of happened." She shrugs helplessly. "I'm not sure I want to keep doing it."
"So why do it at all?"
"I want to start my own management company. I figure I should know what it's really like to live on this side of it so I can represent people the way they deserve to be represented. I don't want to be another Lyle, just in it for their money. I want to know exactly what goes into it and how I can best help them reach their goals. What better way than by living it firsthand?"
The little furrow stays firmly between her brows when she's talking about her life being Insta-famous. But it melts away now, replaced by a smile bright enough to light up any room. This is her passion, the thing that matters to her.
She has a big heart and a desire to see others succeed. I gathered as much from scrolling her social media. Snaps of her intersperse with more motivational content, like quotes and shoutouts made to inspire. She's happiest when she's talking about other people.
She may be a tough nut to crack, but underneath it, she's as sweet as they come.
"Can I ask a question?" I ask, backing out of our spot.
"You will anyway."
I shoot her a look, which only makes her smile.
"Ask your question, Zion."
"How the fuck did you get wrapped up with Lyle Taggert?"
"When Olive first blew up, he approached me to help manage social media for some of his clients." She grimaces, that furrow reappearing between her brows. "I wouldn't have said yes had I known what he was about then."
And I'm guessing she kept working with him after she found out what he was all about to help protect the people signed with him. She's the type to fall on the sword to keep others from tripping over it.
"Why does he think you owe him?"
"Because in his pea-brain, someone like me couldn't possibly gain a following without him." She rolls her eyes. "He's convinced himself that I'm using his connections to get ahead. It's not true. I've never used a single one of his connections and I wouldn't! The only reason people know my name is because of Olive and Madden."
I highly doubt that's true. People know her name because she's fucking beautiful and they see the same thing I do. Only an idiot looks at her and misses the fact that she's some kind of extraordinary.
