Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
“Oh my god!” I cry out, the phone dropping as my hand trembles. “She was right!”
“What is it?” Karl asks, picking up my phone. “What is this? Why are you looking at Nazi memorabilia?”
I shake my head, tears prickling my eyes.
“No, that’s the Prowler site. You know, Justin West’s clothing brand, except he’s selling Nazi paraphernalia now!”
Karl’s features immediately take on a look of disgust.
“What a fucking dipshit. That asshole deserves to be lynched. I’ll do it myself,” he rasps.
“No, no, but they think it was me! Or at least partially me, because back when we were dating, Justin formed a couple of LLCs, and I know he put my name on some of them. So Prowler bought the Superbowl ad spot using my company, and people think that I’m responsible now!”
“But you’re not,” Karl says in a confused voice. “You have nothing to do with it at all.”
“Yeah, but you know how ruthless internet sleuths are. They’re so fucking cocky, and love “gotchu” moments. They adore big reveals, and unearthing a LLC with my name on it is like striking gold. Now, everyone thinks that I’m the mastermind behind the swastika sweatshirts.”
Karl looks stunned, his handsome features tense and drawn.
“No fucking way,” he says.
“Yes way!” I wail, covering my face with my hands. “Oh no no no! My modeling career is over now because who’s going to hire a Nazi sympathizer?”
My lover immediately kneels on the ground next to me, taking my small hands in his.
“You don’t need this career,” he says in a rough voice. “Marry me and become my wife. I know we haven’t known each other long, sweetheart, but I’ve been thinking about it, and it feels right. I’m sorry that I don’t have a ring right now, but I want to marry you, Ainsley, and we don’t need to stay in Vegas. We don’t need to stick around as they try to cast blame on anyone and everyone. Right now, they’re just looking for a convenient scapegoat, and you happen to be the one taking the fire. Trust me, the truth will come out.”
“Yes, but what truth?” I ask in a panicked voice, my eyes beginning to roll and show their whites. “There isn’t anything to uncover because I am a co-owner of those LLCs! Now, the public thinks that I’m the Nazi mastermind, and you know how internet reputations live on forever. I’m doomed!” I wail, the tears starting in earnest now. Hot tracks course down my cheeks as I blubber and sob. “My career is over, when it never even really began! I’m fucked!”
My boyfriend pulls me into his arms, his solid mass providing comfort. “Shhh,” he hushes against my red curls. “I love you, baby girl, and we’ll figure this out together. I’ll take care of you no matter what.”
Yet I continue to sob because I can’t believe I’ve been permanently tainted by my past association with Justin West. This is so unfair! The rapper and I never really even dated. It was just for show, and I was nothing more than a mannequin on his arm.
Instead, my true love is the handsome Swedish man cradling me in his strong arms right now. Karl’s the one who takes care of me. Karl’s the one who loves me at night, and who strokes my curves while listening to my stories. I want to marry Karl because I love him, but is this even fair? After all, the gorgeous bodyguard should meet a beautiful woman without my problems, and they should make beautiful babies together. I don’t want to drag him into this mess because who knows how long it’ll go on for? The knowledge makes me bawl even harder because I love my gorgeous bodyguard ... but I also want what’s best for him, and that may mean parting ways.
10
Ainsley
Kristie stares at me, her blue eyes serious.
“So he asked you to marry him,” she says while ripping apart a cinnamon bun. We’re at a trendy coffee shop that just opened in Vegas, known for its fancy cinnamon buns of all flavors. Kristie has one with sliced bananas on top, drizzled with icing and cinnamon. Meanwhile, mine is a purple color which means it’s allegedly ube, but to be honest, I can never make out a special taste when I eat ube. It just tastes like yam to me.
But Kristie is one of my best friends, and we met as plus-size models going to casting calls. Sometimes, the two of us would be the only curvy girls in a room full of straight-size skinny twigs, so we bonded. Of course, we’re also allegedly “competitors,” but it’s always been a friendly competition between us. Whereas I’m an Irish rose with green eyes, red hair, and fair skin, Kristie is a gorgeous golden blonde, with big blue eyes and tanned skin. We look different, and as a result, we wouldn’t be picked up for the same jobs.