Page 42 of Bona Fide

“We haven’t even discussed what we’re going to do with Demi,” he carps.

“Well, you’re fucked—I just found my out.”

“You’re going to rat me out to the public,” he trails off, pulling his eyes from me.

I shrug. “Haven’t decided yet.”

“Make sure you give me a heads-up if you do so I can have my PR team on it.”

“Of course, damage control. We’ll be in touch.” Turning on my heels, I stride through the restaurant with an uneasy feeling but more hopeful than ever.

I’ll let Demi follow my ass to the White House.

I just hope she likes my house warming gift when she moves in, only to have her crucified while I watch.

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