Page 5 of Ripped & Shipped
“Because I’m the winner in this scenario.”
I chuckle. “Bet’s on. And what’s with you and the onions? Does my sister actually kiss you after all that?” I pause. “Nevermind. Please. Don’t answer that question.”
“Oh, she kisses me. I mean, look at me. How can she resist?”
He smiles and wags his eyebrows.
“It’s a mystery what she sees in you. But who am I to judge? After all, she only had a few decent men to pick from in this town. Who can blame her for thinking you’re awesome.”
Duke shakes his head and stands to take his mug to the counter. From over his shoulder, he says, “You know I’m awesome. You’re just jealous because you still haven’t found the one.”
He’s laughing it up, completely oblivious to the bullseye in my heart. I smile a placating smile and carry my mug to the counter. Duke might be right, but I know better than bringing a woman into my life right now. For so many reasons that would not be a good idea.
CHAPTER3
Ella Mae
“Oh em geeee!”I squeal as I run into our side of the duplex after reading my comment notifications on my livestream from the coffee shop.
My BFF Meg isn’t home, but I plan to hop by her workplace and fill her in on my big news at her lunchtime. First, I need to do some editing on a few reels to post later this week.
But, OMG! DrakesDaMan commented that he wants a collab! He’s HUGE. As in thirty-two million followers. I have over eight million. But I’m barely a blip on the screen compared to Drake. He started on YouTube doing product reviews, challenges, and just filming himself hanging out with friends. Before long, he grew, and now he’s on Insta and TikTok too.
He’s my age—twenty-nine. At our age, being an influencer gets precarious. People always want the younger, more hip vibe. We age out like pro athletes. And then what? At least sports celebs get to do ads for athletic shoes. I have exactly zero idea what I’d do if my social media gig dried up.
In case I’m dreaming, I check my Insta account again. Sure enough, not only did Drake drop a comment on my post, but he sent me a DM. I open my messages, rapidly shaking my hand in the air like I’m flicking something off my fingers. My nerves are all jittery at the prospect of a collab with Drake. This could be so huge for me. Exposure on his feed would bump my follower count exponentially.
@DrakesDaMan
Hey, Ella Mae. Just poppin in to say I loved your livestream today. A friend of mine suggested I check you out. Love your energy. Thought we might collab sometime.
As you know, I live half the year in California now, but what most people don’t know is that I live another chunk of the year in Ohio. It’s my home state. I keep it vague and chill, saying I’m from the midwest instead of naming a given state. I’ve had some psycho stalkers over the years. Stories to follow if you want to hear about all that cray action. What part of the midwest are you in? Let’s hook up.
I place my hand over my heart. It’s racing. Drake’s in Ohio? Why would he be in Ohio during the summer when he could be in California? I’m going to ask just that. And he’s acting like we’re old friends. I can’t even believe my life right now.
I take a deep breath, exhale slowly, and remind myself I’m a bad boss babe. My online life coach, Journey, would tell me to embrace the positive, envision myself as I want to be, and reject all small thoughts.
I close my eyes and remind myself I’ve worked hard to get where I am. I hear Journey’s soothing voice saying,Growth is natural. And this is the growth I’ve been waiting for. Of course, Journey would tell me to imagine myself as a tree, growing with my ever-expanding branches reaching for the sun. She’d end that pep talk with her famous saying,Yassss, QUEEN! Slayyyy!
I’ve got this. I can be cool as a cucumber, a queen cucumber with ever-expanding branches. Whatever.
I look down at my knock-off Jimmy Choo fuchsia satin neon plexi pumps. These are the shoes of a woman who knows her own mind. They are the shoes of a woman who is going places. These shoes are a reflection of my vibrant personality and my bold presence in the world.
I take another deep breath. Shoes, don’t fail me now. I’ll just act like I’m texting Chris … only a nicer version of him. No. Not Chris at all. Why would I text him? Duke. I’ll pretend I’m texting Duke.
@Fab-U-Lous_EllaMae
Hey, Drake! Nice hearing from you. I’m a huge fan. You’ve always made me smile. I’d love to consider a collab. Let me know what you have in mind. By the way, what are you doing in Ohio in the summer when you could be at the beach? I’m in Ohio too. Southwest Ohio.
That’s good. Low key. Not at all fangirling. Just me and Drake. Pals from way back. Yep. I’m good. I reread the message a few times. It sounds good. Satisfied, I start to set my phone down, but it pings with a response.
@DrakesDaMan
I’m back home for some time with the fam. I’ll only be here a few weeks. Then, because you’re beyond right, I’m heading back to the Craze Shack in Malibu.
California calls to me when I’m not there—unless I’m in Europe or on an island, of course. I’m hosting a huge bash at the Shack two weeks after my return—my annual Surf, Sun, Social Shindig. Everyone will be there. You should come.
I should whaaa? Come to Malibu? To go to Drake’s party? Is this a hoax? Maybe I’m being pranked. I double check the Insta account he’s messaging from, and when I see it’s the verified DrakesDaMan account, I squeal and do a little shimmy. Then I look down at my shoes.
