It wasn't my idea.
If I'd been completely sober, I might have stopped the crazies who burned the man effigy at the Anti-Valentine party I went to. I mean, that's not really my thing. I don't hate men. I'm just a normal, single girl trying to get through college without being noticed. Because everyone in my family is famous. And then the party and the stunt made national news. And there I was, front and center on the Film at 11.
It's okay. I've got this. I'll dodge the paparazzi, and soon they'll tire of me. I'll sink back into obscurity.
Then he shows up—my twin brother's manager. He's going to fix my reputation—thank you, I didn't know it needed to be fixed. It was just one dumb party!
And apparently, he's my date for Valentine's Day, too. That ought to be fun. He doesn't even like me. That's okay. I don't like him either.
