Entitled playboy. More money than sense. Abs you could grate cheese on.
Damn, I would stab someone for some brie.
This is truly the date from hell.
Walker is full of himself, somehow has bribed all the wait staff, oh and he showed up to the date with a giant chocolate cake shaped like a raccoon.
Don’t get me wrong I like cake as much as the next girl but seriously?!?
This is a nice restaurant. Grrrr!
Too bad I can’t throw my drink in his face and walk out.
For one, I think the padding in my bra would fall out if I stood up.
More importantly, I desperately need Walker to fall in love with me.
Yeah, I can’t believe it either, yet here we are, friends.
Am I a gold digger? Nope.
Just desperate and broke and about to lose my home.
...One I share with more roommates than a grown woman should have along with a pack of ferrets that my client refuses to pick up.
The article I plan to write about the whole debacle will launch my writing career. I’ll finally be able to pay off my debts!
But I have only ten days to do it.
Cue the panic.
Now I have to spend time with a man I despise.
At least Walker’s hot. Not that I’m ogling his chest when he’s not looking.
Or maybe I am. A little bit.
Sue me, I shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach.
And when he catches me checking him out?
Let’s just say it’s not the worst date ever.
