I’ve known him for years, and I can say with one hundred percent certainty that he would never harm a woman. The drive just isn’t in him.
But now, he’s sitting in jail, waiting for his arraignment, which is being held up because of his big deal family that no one knew about except Carl.
To make matters worse, Priest, the worst Hunk to ever shimmy the stage, has reared his ugly head, making accusations against the show that aren’t true.
Samantha works tirelessly to stem the tide of bad press, but the media assault seems endless. To make matters worse, everyone is on pins and needles, because if this show fails, we’re all screwed.
I enter the bus to find Jacek reclined on the lounge sofa, looking like a dejected puppy. Apparently, he had something big planned that’s now being pushed back or canceled, but he’s not the only one suffering. Vanessa had to put a pause on all her social media posts due to the barrage of hate messages she’d been receiving.
The one silver lining in all this is that the show’s ticket sales have gone through the roof, and Carl can now charge twenty dollars more a ticket and still sell out.
To think, not too long ago I was looking at high-end RVs, and now I’m worried I might have to move back in with my mother.
It feels like a kick in the gut.
Samantha exits Carl’s office, her frown conveying her emotions. Her dark hair is pulled up in a sloppy topknot and her clothes are rumpled, yet she’s still the most gorgeous creature to ever walk this earth.
Even knowing that she antagonizes people, I still adore her, though admittedly, I’m playing a dangerous game. Samantha is a wildcard, and who can tell what her true motives are?
“What happened to Mr. Toxic Positivity?” Samantha says with a wry grin that I can tell is fake.
Oh, nothing. It’s just that my mother has seven-figures worth of medical debt, my job is in danger, and I’m about to become a father with a woman whose motives are either unclear or malignant.
Instead of telling her the truth, I wrap my arms around her and say, “He’s still here.”
She pulls away. “Bullshit.”
“It’s just, you know, stress. With the show, Priest rearing his ugly head, Prince in jail, and little droid on the way. Just a lot of uncertainty.”
She bites her lower lip seductively. “I wonder if there’s a way I can help you forget about that.”
“Would you like to head into the bathroom?” I offer, knowing it’ll make her smile.
She rolls her eyes and shakes her head in frustration. “And here I thought you were the one who wanted a better conception story.”
If only I knew what our true story was.
“I, ah, kind of have something to show you,” she says.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Come, sit down.”
We sit on the steps leading to the second level of the bus. She pulls out her phone and hands it to me.
The screen has a picture of a kitchenette overlooking a sitting room. “What’s this?”
“I started looking at RVs.”
My brow pinches together. “Why?”
“I’m not saying I’m down to live in one twenty-four-seven, but I think that maybe this can help us be together more, which I think would make all three of us happy,” she says with a flicker of excitement in her eye.
The interior is more luxurious than most homes, and it wouldn’t surprise me if the RV cost over a million dollars.
There’s no point in pretending and getting her hopes up.
“Baby, this is nice, but I don’t think I can afford it.”
