Just The Tip - Cassandra Dee Page 0,22

they’re victims of predatory photographers, guys who convince teens to take it off, blowing compliments to make the girls feel better.

Little do the girls realize but those photos last forever and the rights are almost impossible to buy back. Look at Jennifer Lawrence and Ariana Grande. Their phones had been hacked and private photos released, with the only recourse being a lawsuit to end the ordeal.

But this was a thousand times worse. This video hadn’t been taken from Jenna’s private stash. These weren’t personal sex tapes, for a special someone’s eyes only. This was full-on porn for an audience, professionally produced with cameramen, lighting, a director, marketing, advertising, all that shit.

“Get me press relations,” I growled into my phone. And I was immediately connected to Harold Komansky, head of PR.

“Rafe, get a load of that Jenna Walsh video,” he crowed after picking up. “She’s one hot babe but so dumb! What was she thinking, making a dirty gangbang like this? How much do you think she was paid? Shit, wasn’t she a law student at the time or something? Man, this makes no sense but at least her pussy is gorgeous, as beautiful as the girl herself.”

All the words I’d been planning to say flew out of my mind.

“Do not, DO NOT, talk about Jenna Walsh that way,” I roared into the phone. “She is a human being who’s made bad decisions so look away from that pussy, that’s not your fucking business.”

“Geez boss, I’m sorry,” mumbled my PR man. “I mean, I knew you dated her for a while but all the tabloids said it was over, that you ghosted her leaving her high and dry. I didn’t think it mattered … I’m real sorry, boss.”

I could hardly stop myself from reaching through the phone to strangle this dude, he was so fucking clueless and inept. The debacle mattered because Jenna was still in contract to Levast, still modeling clothes for our stable of designers, showing up at promo events and the like. But I just couldn’t bear the thought of another man seeing that beautiful snatch, seeing the sweet way she moaned, her boobs swaying as she took dick up her ass.

“Shut the fuck up,” I said furiously. “Draft a press release announcing Levast’s termination of the Walsh contract for breach. Send it up here the moment you’re done.”

“Sure boss,” replied Harold tremulously. “Do I still have a job after all this is over? I swear I didn’t know,” he said, his voice wavering.

“Shut the fuck up, just do it,” I raged again before slamming down the receiver. I cursed myself for hiring that nincompoop but my anger was misdirected at Harold. The problem was Jenna, the girl still ruled my mind although I’d cut her off.

How could she have? How could she have betrayed me, her career, and most of all, herself by doing this video? Was there more film out there? I shook my head, the red still blurring my vision, making the air in my lungs catch, breathing painfully difficult.

I’d never been affected by a woman like this and cursed myself. Get it together Rafe, I snarled internally. She’s a manipulative slut, just leave it at that.

13

Jenna

I was sobbing on my sister’s couch, the damask material darkening with my tears.

“I don’t know how this could have happened,” I cried, my voice muffled by a decorative pillow. “I can’t understand what’s happened.”

“Jenna,” said my twin quietly. “What don’t you understand? You did some porn and now that you’re famous, people have taken an interest. The porn’s always been out there, just no one realized it was you.”

“No, it’s not me!” I wailed. “I never did porn, it’s someone who looks like me with blonde hair and blue eyes, but it’s not me!”

My sister shook her head confusedly.

“But Jenna, I’ve seen the pictures. It’s either you or the best photoshop job in the world,” Tina said slowly.

“Yes, that’s me, I admit,” I said brokenly. “I took some nude photos when we were in law school, tuition was due and I had no options,” I said. “I’d maxed out my credit cards so took a gig I found off Craigslist, but it was just me posing naked with cars. They definitely didn’t film me, and I’ve never even heard of Green Guys,” I said, referring to the porn production company.

“But are you sure there were no videocameras?” asked my sister slowly. “I mean, it’s totally possible that someone stood in the corner and filmed you on the sly,