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“As far as threats go, he has bigger guns to shoot with.” I fill my cheeks with air and let it out. “Let’s just be grateful he’s not posting a video of you bashing his car.”
“That would be petty.”
“You think rich people aren’t petty? They’re the pettiest.”
A crowd of teenagers walking home from school pass by. They smile when they see the camera set up and the equipment for our photoshoot. But when they notice me and Henry signing, their expressions shift to mocking laughter. They start waving wildly to each other and gesturing nonsense.
Frustration rolls through me, but they’re gone before I can commit to the hassle of scolding them.
Henry puts the camera back in the bag and joins me as I change from heels into sneakers. His eyes are narrowed. “This world is so screwed up.”
“Forget those kids,” I sign. “It’s not the first time.”
“You think I care about them? Screw the kids.”
Okay then.
“I’m talking about Sullivan.”
“What about Sullivan?”
Henry clenches his jaw. “Here we are, busting our butts trying to take the perfect photo at the perfect angle at golden hour. With all that, we have to beg for sponsorships and follows. But one rich guy sets up an account and—on day one, before he even makes a single post—he has fifty thousand followers.”
“He has a couple posts now,” I point out.
“A sunset photo from his mansion and what else?” Henry scrolls. “Oh look. This is new. A photo from a magazine talking about how rich he is.”
The content of the magazine may be suspect, but it’s a really nice photo. Sullivan has his hair styled in a side part and he’s dressed in all black, making him look lean and dangerous. He’s lounging in a chair, legs spread in a ‘come sit on my lap’ invitation.
And I won’t lie.
I’m slightly tempted to recreate my childhood Christmas photos, exchanging a frazzled mall Santa for a blackmailing billionaire.
Pushing the cell phone away, I sign to Henry, “Look at the bright side. His followers are following me now.”
“They’re only following you to spam your account with dating questions.” Henry frowns. “As if that guy would ever date someone like you.”
My heart trips over itself. Which is weird because I totally agree with that statement so I’m not sure why it bothers me.
Henry misunderstands my expression and looks contrite. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know what you meant. And, honestly, Sullivan can keep liking my photos. It’ll only help our career. Once our account ticks over ten thousand, we’ll get the attention of some major brands and make more money.”
“Maybe it’s better if we ditch your personal account and start a new one. One that has nothing to do with him.”
I scrunch my nose. That feels like doing things the hard way.
While Henry angrily leaves to stow our equipment in his grandmother’s minivan, my smartwatch vibrates.
Evil Overlord.
I changed Sullivan’s name in my phone after our meeting on the mountain. Why is he calling me? Does he know we were talking about him? Is he spying on me?
Evil Overlord: Miss Williams, I need a favor.
My eyebrows pull together. Why is he asking? We both know I have to do whatever he says. He has all the power here.
Yaya: What favor?