Page 67 of The Sun and Her Star

When I told Nanette I’d rather not do it, she threatened to end our entire arrangement. As tempted as I was to tell her to shove it up her ass, I didn’t have any other income.

So, I did it.

Turns out the online gossip reporters didn’t care about the latest top thirty under thirty I was arm candy for.

They wanted to know whoIwas.

My Instagram following grew to over a million in a matter of weeks.

The B-list actresses decided they didn’t wantsucha hot date after all, and that business dried up.

Nanette has upped my private clients as punishment for her losing those contracts. It’s getting harder to do my job.

Last week, I had to wear a cock ring to stay hard. I need to figure something out.

I’ve done everything for my mother, and if I stopped now and couldn’t make that next payment, I would have lost everything—including Apollo—for nothing.

We pull up to the restaurant, and I slip my sunglasses on again. Being with Dave means photographers and those lights blind me.

“Why the fuck do you insist on checking on twitter every time you go somewhere? I know you like playing chicken with your own life, but I don’t want to be collateral damage.”

“You think one of my little preteen fans is going to beat us to death with her selfie stick?” He rolls his eyes.

I slide out of the back of the car. It only takes a few minutes for us to be spotted.

Thank God the restaurant has bouncers, and they keep Dave’s screaming superfans back.

When the door shuts behind us, the sound of them calling his name stops as abruptly and completely as I imagine it would feel like if we stepped into a vault.

I look around the restaurant. It’s one of the most exclusive places in LA. But when your friends are masters of the universe, exclusive no longer means out of reach.

We walk through the dark, gold leaf walled restaurant and people wave at Dave and call his name.

Strangely enough, a couple of people call out my name, too.

That’s weird. Maybe they’re Instagram followers.

Dave stops at a table ahead of us. “Hey, man. I didn’t know you were in town,” he says to the man sitting at the table.

I smile and keep walking. “I’m going ahead,” I say to Dave.

“No, man. I want to introduce you. I’ve meant to shoot Dean an e-mail about you for months now, but I’ve been fucking busy.”

I walk toward the table. The guy looks familiar, but so do half of the people in here. He’s got blond hair styled like Dave’s, and he’s wearing a suit that I know costs the same as one day at the facility my mother’s living in during her treatment.

“Hey, Dave. I didn’t knowyouwere in town, either.” He nods at his companion. “This is my wife, Milly.”

I look down at her and smile politely at the beautiful red-haired woman, who looks like some sort of Egyptian goddess, sitting across from him. She smiles back politely before she looks at her husband and says, “Dean, no business tonight, please?”

She turns her smile on us and says, “I hate to rush your reunion, but it’s our first trip together alone since our daughter was born. I’m sure you understand.”

I nod. Her honesty is refreshing. I wish I could tell everyone to leave me the fuck alone, too.

“Sure, no problem, Mrs. Orleans,” Dave says, sounding politer than I’ve ever heard him.

“Mr. Davis.” I look up, startled to find Dean talking to me.

“Yeah?” I answer a little haltingly.

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