Page 58 of Wicked Angel
“It better not be.” She sighed. “I know I could ask a ton of people to help me out financially, or help me land some fancy job. Including my sister, her husband, her manager, and so on. But I’m not doing that. I’m going to pay my own way, do the work, and I’m going to take my clients with me, all the way to the top.”
My eyes drifted over her. Her flushed cheeks, her chest heaving in my shirt. Her impassioned little speech was admirable. She almost seemed to believe it.
“Then start with putting out my dumpster fire.” I finished my drink. “Whatever Danielle was gonna pay you, I’ll match it.”
She stared at me, like she didn’t dare hope I was serious. Then she leaned in a bit. “Can I still stay at Shayla’s?”
“I told you. I don’t care.”
“She won’t like that I’m working as your publicist.”
“Then don’t tell her.”
She looked scandalized. “How the hell will that work?”
“Not my problem.” She watched me as I got up. I tried not to sway as I beckoned Lamar over, but fuck was I drunk. “Find my sister,” I told him. Then I pointed at Angeline, who was still staring at me. “And put this one in my car. We’re taking her home.”
“I guess he hears that one a lot, huh?” Angeline remarked, when Lamar headed off to find Shayla.
I blinked at her. “You probably want to adjust your attitude, now that I’m your landlord and your only client.”
She gave me a stormy look with a whole mess of emotions in it, but she bit her tongue.
ChapterTen
Angeline
When I woke up in the morning, the first thing on my mind was the new opportunity that had steamrolled over me last night. It was like Johnny wouldn’t take no for an answer once he decided to hire me to handle his PR campaign.
What’s your problem?
You. I’m offering you a job. Take it.
As I got up to start my day, I was weirdly grateful for his bullheaded certainty about the whole thing.
I would’ve probably turned him down for a hundred and one different reasons. I wasn’t even drinking alcohol last night, which meant I was thinking way too clearly to get roped into anything that meant spending more time with Johnny O’Reilly.
However.
He’d just seemed so damn certain—even if he was drunk—that I was the woman for the job. And as it really sank in—I got a PR job!!—I felt ridiculously amped up about it. A client of my very own! No Danielle Duke! No one but me!
I’d landed my first client.
I mean, he’d kinda landed me. But still.
I now had a reason to get up in the morning.
Not only was I going to put out Johnny’s dumpster fire, I was going to go above and beyond his expectations. I only had one client. Least I could do was give him the star treatment. What was it Danielle always said?Give them what they didn’t know they needed and they will love you for it.
Not that I wanted Johnny to love me or anything. It was a figure of speech. Meaning: wow your client and they will be loyally yours.
I was now a woman on a mission, and that pathetic Angie of yesterday was a distant memory. I had more important shit to do than mope around getting drunk, wearing dirty T-shirts to bars, and feeling bad about my breakup and my lack of direction. I had a direction now.
Straight to the top of the charts with Johnny O.
I was fully dressed—in clothes and makeup borrowed from Shayla—humming to myself as I got the coffee going, when Shayla found me in the kitchen. No matter how late we were out at night, she was so devoted to being in top shape for the video shoot, this was the first morning I was actually up before her.
“Wow,” she remarked. “You’re up and at ’em early.”
