“I’m just writing your mother’s victory speech.”
“Isn’t that a bit premature?”
“Not at all. She’s going to win the election.”
Okay, so I guess being a megalomaniac was contagious. He must have already spent too much time with my mother and convinced himself he was infallible.
“Right, so should we talk about how this is going to work?” I waved a hand around, not sure what I was pointing at.
“I already wrote down some guidelines,” David said and grabbed a piece of paper off his desk and held it out to me. I walked over and took it, afraid of what I was going to read.What had I gotten myself into?
If I thought it was going to be bad, it was worse.
Never disagree with me in public.
Always smile when there is a chance someone could take a photo of you.
Only wear new clothes, never wear last season’s fashion and never the same thing more than once.
Join the committee of a charity of your choosing.
Lighten your hair—my assistant made you an appointment for tomorrow.
Don’t let your skin tan.
Visit the spa every week—my assistant made you a regular appointment.
Only drive the cars I buy for you, and give yours back to your mother. I take care of you from now on.
