Chapter 3

"Come on!" She grabbed my arm. "The birthday VIP room is booked, eight male models are ready, just waiting for you!"

Julian Thorne turned, stopping in front of us. "Why don't we all go together?"

My best friend squeezed my arm hard, but I nodded with a smile. "Sure."

Who doesn't love a free drama show?

"Chloe Thorne," my best friend gritted through her teeth, "You're asking for trouble!"

But quickly, she got excited. "Did you see just now? The male models I hired, all eight of them! They're all changing into suits!"

Julian Thorne sat in the corner of the room, casually swirling the drink in his glass.

The door suddenly swung open. Eight male models, all 6'1"+ and in suits, bowed in unison towards Julian Thorne. "Good evening, Mr. Thorne!"

My best friend froze, grabbed her alarm clock, and ran.

Real impressive!

I was about to grab my own alarm clock when Julian Thorne took my phone. "Isn't this a birthday party? Why hasn't it started yet?"

You reap what you sow.

I opened the cake box. Julian Thorne started putting candles on it, looking like he was decorating my tombstone.

Skylar's inner thoughts chimed in again: "That jerk, for my birthday, it was just a standard twenty-five candles, but for her, it's eighteen? Does he have to be so double-standard?"

"Before I leave, I have to burn his White Moonlight Shrine of Sorrows to the ground!"

White Moonlight Shrine of Sorrows?

Ugh, I suddenly really wanted to see it! Would it have a bunch of my bestie's big head photos?

"Miss Thorne, your 1995 Dom Pérignon."

Just as I reached out, Julian Thorne took the glass. "She's allergic to alcohol."

I paused, suddenly remembering that time seven years ago when I got Julian Thorne drunk and then escaped the country.

Could he have been faking it back then?

The manager came in, handing over the bill. "Miss Thorne, the total for tonight's consumption is $88,888. May I put it on card or cash?"

I glanced at Julian Thorne in the corner, flipping my black card between my fingers. "Oh dear, I just remembered this card has a limit."

"How about I stay and work off the debt by washing dishes?"

Julian Thorne flew into a rage. "Chloe! It's less than a hundred thousand, why are you pretending to be poor?"

"I really don't have money. Why don't… you lend me some?"

"I lend you money?" Julian Thorne tugged at his tie, shaking with anger. "You ordered the male models! I pay? Do I have no self-respect left?!"

Ten minutes later, Julian Thorne paid.

Soon after, his company's finance department called, asking what his latest expenditure was so she could account for it.

Julian Thorne realized he'd used the wrong card and mumbled something about it being business entertainment. The finance manager then asked which hotel it was and if there was a receipt.

Julian Thorne was so furious he just hung up.

I stood there, biting back laughter until my insides ached, trying desperately to hold it in.

Julian Thorne pressed his fingertips against his temples, then pulled out a sheet of paper. "Write me an IOU. Now. Immediately!"