I Married a Millionaire

one: cara, the desperate

Cara

I was barely holding it together. Between the stuffy air conditioning and the overwhelming Chanel No.5 that wafted through the air, I was this close to slamming the brakes and making a run for it.

It was not as if Hailey would notice. She barely acknowledged my presence when I picked her up this morning - save for a grunt and a 'Did you get my decaf cappuccino with soy milk?'

Another red light.

I suppressed a groan as my car rolled to a stop. Ansel wasn't going to like this. He always had a thing for punctuality when it came to photoshoots.

Drumming my fingers impatiently on the wheel, I looked over at Hollywood's-top-100-underrated-model-turned-actress-soon-to-appear-on-a-reality-show, furiously typing away at her phone. Her eyebrows were creased and her nose crinkled at whatever was on her screen. She clucked her tongue and as if right on cue, she raised her head to meet my gaze.

"I'm quitting."

Car horns were blaring in the distance, but all I could hear at that moment, was the obnoxious strangling noises from the dying car engine, Kodaline crooning for me to have High Hopes on the radio... and the lowering of shutters as they shut Jefferson's Artiste Agency down for good.

My father started the agency before I was even born - Jefferson's used to manage A-list talents in the past, but it's struggling in the reds now. My mule-headed father couldn't keep up with the times, and in an industry where connections opened doors, he chose to shut himself out.

Everyone left.

Hailey Summers was our last talent and even then, the last booking we landed for her was a hemorrhoid commercial that aired... at midnight.

"Y-you can't quit! We signed a contract!" I sounded more confident in my head.

"My new agency will deal with that," she was back to texting on her phone, "Just drop me off here."

I swerved the car to the side and slammed down on my brakes. Hard.

Hailey cried as her decaf cappuccino with soy milk spills all over her white blouse. I cried because some of it got onto my car seat.

"You did that on purpose, Kiara! Can you blame me for leaving the agency?! The only reason I'm booked for today's photoshoot with Lifestyle is because everyone is avoiding them after that huge scandal!"

I winced at the harsh truth behind her words.

"Wake up, Ciara! It's the end of Jefferson's!"

She flung her empty cup at me before furiously exiting the car.

I slumped into the car seat. "It's Cara," I sighed, to no one in particular.

-----

Darius

I was livid.

Just how incompetent can someone get?

I punched the re-dial button.

"What's got you so riled up in the morning?" a sultry voice crooned in my ear as its owner presses herself up against my back. Like a cat, she leaned against me, vying for my attention. Her strawberry blonde hair cascaded down my shoulder as she laid her head in the crook of my neck and wrapped her arms around my chest. I glanced down and followed her perfectly manicured hot-pink fingernail as she traced circles on my bare skin.

Is that why I woke up with scratches on my back?

There was no answer on the other line again. Burying my face in my hands, I sighed and dropped my phone on the floor in resignation. There was no way about this. If they refuse to pick up the phone, I'll have to pay their office a visit. Trust their delusional heads to run an exposé on the most powerful politician of our country. What the hell were they thinking? They're a lifestyle magazine, for f*ck's sake! It's literally in their name!