I get dressed and go back downstairs. I put a little music on in the den, something slow, but edgy – none of that sugary shit. I like a little dirt in my music. Then I proceed to walk around the room, checking my watch as I pace like I’m scared of getting stood up in my own home.
I stop as soon as I hear a sound, not sure if it’s real, and too involved in my own imagination to hear it properly. Was that a car door slamming? I hear footsteps on my porch.
And there goes the fucking doorbell.
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I would like to dedicate this book to my readers. Your support (and money) helped me follow my dream, quit my corporate job to do what I love full time. I would also like to thank Kate Upton, Jennifer Lawrence and Rihanna – I appreciate your support but please stop messaging me, I’m happily married.