Hollywood Prince (Hollywood Royalty #3) - Natasha Madison Page 0,12
know, in the end, that nothing is going to change him.
Chapter Five
Carter
I walk into the house, squeezing the mug so hard. Her question still plays in my head. Who are you? I shake my head, not ready to answer that question. I’m a guy living his best life, and that is what I’m going to give her. I grab another cup of coffee and watch her from the kitchen. I see her open the folder and flip through some papers.
When I walk out and sit next to her, I notice the change in her right away. She isn’t the same girl who asked me that question. I can see it right away with her eyes.
“So let’s talk about your social media presence,” she starts off, moving papers in front of me. “This is your Instagram. These shots are okay, but I want to create that boy-next-door image for you.”
“I’m so far removed from the boy-next-door persona,” I tell her.
“Trust me, I know, but since they are paying you to be that, you need to pretend you’re the boy next door.” She throws my comment back in my face, and I don’t say anything. “Take a picture of you taking a run. Take a picture of you pretending to be anything and everything that you are not. Treat it like a movie role if that’s what it takes.”
“So it’s a fake account of sorts,” I tell her. “Like a fan page.”
She ignores my comment and then starts with other questions. “Do you have a Snapchat account?” I nod.
“How often do you use it?” She starts writing notes.
“I get up to three hundred tit pictures a day, so I go on there . . . occasionally,” I tell her, and she looks up.
“Do you reciprocate?” Her pen is in midair while she waits for my answer.
“Are you asking if I’ve sent a dick pic?” I try to keep my smirk from forming but fail. “I mean, not lately.”
“Great.” She shakes her head. “If you can refrain from sending any out in the future, that would make my job a little easier. Or better yet, just use that platform to make dog videos.”
“Aren’t you exaggerating just a little bit?” I say, and then I know I shouldn’t have said that. I should have just smiled and nodded like a good little indentured servant.
“Can I have your phone?” she asks with her hand outstretched.
“Are you going to put your number in it?” I ask her, leaning back in the chair, and her hand falls.
“Fine, keep your cell. We can use mine,” she says. Taking out her phone, she opens her Instagram page. I see she’s on her own account and make a mental note to go and check it out. She presses the little search button and types my name and then clicks tags. When she clicks on the first one, I’m a little shocked when videos of me out pop up. Like I knew they were there, but I didn’t think they would still be passed around.
“This one is a good one,” she says, turning the phone to me. On the screen is me sitting at Tao in Vegas, but I’m not sure. It’s on a red couch. I’m wearing jeans and a button-down shirt, but the shirt is halfway open. Two girls are on each side of me, and my hands are outstretched. I smile at the camera, then turn and make out with one and then turn to the other. I press the arrow back and go through a couple more, and they all have a different girl in them.
“If you want, we can even search the hashtag CarterBigJohnson.” She takes the phone and types it in. The first video is a girl, and she is describing my penis like she is giving a review on Yelp. There are a couple of pictures with women who have their hands down my pants. One video is of me and some random. Hell, they are all random now that I think about it. We are in a bathroom stall, and my head is back against the wall. She slides her tongue into my mouth, and you know or I know from the look on my face that she is giving me a hand job. The sound of me moaning makes her grab the phone away from me.
“That is exactly who you are?” She just shakes her head. “Look, I don’t know what to tell you.” She gathers the papers, then puts them away,