Page 49 of Sharing Shadow Secrets
“Message your number one draft pick again,” Morgan says, sitting next to me on the couch. “He probably gets hundreds of DMs a day.”
“I’ve already messaged him twice.”
“Three times the charm.”
Opening up TikTok, I think about what I should say to not sound too desperate or creepy.
“I will gladly pay to have that man pretend to bite me,” Morgan says, looking down at my phone.
Kyle Rathbone is a smoke show. Tall, dark, and handsome with black hair and brown eyes. He’s basically shirtless in every post, showing off his defined abs and body. He lives in Chicagoat least. So it wouldn’t be that terrible for him to commute to Lake Geneva.
“I know. I mean, I know he’s the perfect pick and … yeah, he’s beyond good looking. Plus he has a million followers so if he agrees to cross promote, that would be amazing.”
Staring at my past two messages, I feel less desperate about messaging again because they don’t say ‘seen,’ which means he hasn’t read them. “Maybe he doesn’t check his DMs …”
I toggle over to his most recent post and decide to be bold and publicly comment. I start typing:Have you ever wanted to be a vampire? Because I want to hire you to be the model at my next live event.
“Do not fucking post that,” Morgan says, snatching my phone. Then she starts typing, “Check your DMs. We’re trying to hire you for a vampire themed shoot in October.” She hits the up arrow, posting the comment and I gasp, but … that is better.
“You’re welcome,” Morgan says, then stands. “Okay, wish me luck on this date. I hope he doesn’t suck.”
“Me too.”
Looking back down at my phone, I can’t wait around for Kyle Rathbone to reply. I need to get this locked in. I giggle while starting a new text to Brandon.
Taylor
How many pouts would it take for you to be my vampire?
Brandon
I will be in Puerto Rico.
Feeling silly, I snap a photo of me pushing out my bottom lip and text it to him.
Brandon
Very cute, but you are not the only person who has to focus on work.
I groan because it’s a little different. I mean, he chooses to work, and I’m forced to work. But he has his priorities, and I have mine, and we respect that about each other. Him more than me right now because I’m stressed.
Morgan gives me a sidelong glance as she holds the door handle, ready to leave the apartment. “Brandon?”
“Yeah.”
“That guy must bereallyinto punishment.” We exchange a knowing look, and I shrug. Morgan laughs. “I feel bad for him.”
“Feel bad for me!” I whine. “I only have two clients, and I’m networking like crazy.”
I’m almost going to give up on networking events. It seems like no one attending actually needs my services; rather, they are just doing it as a way to meet people to possibly date.
“Just fuck him already…” And with that, she’s out the door.
Brandon is so much more than that. He could be my first boyfriend.
My last …
Focus on work.
