Unfortunately, it’s not.
Egyptian Prince Assaults Nanny
When I first stepped foot aboard the tour bus, I assumed there would be a lot of negative press regarding how the Hunks acted off-stage.
But I was wrong. Over the many years the Hunks have been operating, there have only been a handful of complaints.
And the article I’m looking at is the worst of them.
Looks like I won’t be getting sleep after all.
I let myself into Carl’s office and take a seat, scouring the internet for information on the impending bomb.
A short time later, he enters, looks at me, and says, “Can you help with this?”
“Yes, but I can’t promise there will be no damage.”
He tilts his head down and massages his temples.
“Do you believe the article?” I ask.
Carl looks downright offended by my question. “Of course not! I’ve known Prince for over a decade, and he’d never hurt a woman.”
“I had to ask, but just so you’re aware, there is a video.”
“I know, but I don’t want to jump to conclusions.”
“Why were you looking for him earlier?”
“I received an email threatening to smear my show if I didn’t fire Prince. When I couldn’t find him, I texted, telling him to get to my office, but he never replied.”
“And you didn’t think to tell your publicist?” I scoff.
“I wanted to talk with Prince first.” He sighs and takes a seat at his desk. “There’s something else I should tell you.”
“Is it about Prince’s royal blood? Because the article told me that.”
“When I first took him on, I listened to his story, hardly believing him when he said he descended from royalty until I looked into it myself. I told him he could join the Hunks, but only if he was quiet about his identity because I didn’t want the drama that came with a royal fucking title.”
I giggle. “Carl, you are a drama magnet.”
“Ain’t it the truth.”
“People are going to start calling you. Say nothing. I’ll prepare a statement.”
“Can you threaten the goddamn tabloids? Force them to retract the article?”
“No, but I’m going to pause what I’m currently doing for your show and focus wholly on putting out this fire, and in exchange for my free legal and PR services, I ask that you allow me to continue to stay on the bus without revealing why I’m here.”
Carl nods. “Of course.” He looks at his phone and frowns. “Prince says he’s out of town.” His thumbs fly across the screen.
“Send him the article,” I tell him.
He nods.
After messaging back and forth, Carl looks up at me and says, “He told me he’ll explain later.”
“Tell him he better.”
