asked.
"I can email them to you," Gwen said.
Maybe shedding some light on the relationship Austin had
with Farrah would send the poor girl running away.
***
"Good morning, Dallas! Last night, we had some
breaking news in the entertainment industry: "Country singer Austin
McBride was caught with his pants down with another chick who was not his wife!
The gossip world is on fire trying to see if the million dollar wedding is
still on. We're told the mystery woman is Farrah Rue, who owns a restaurant
here in Dallas called Southern Rose."
"Shit!" Farrah scrambled out of bed and rushed to
the bathroom and collapsed in front of the toilet, vomiting until she dry
heaved. Her worst nightmare was coming true the news of her affair had come to
light.
Picking up her phone, she dialed the restaurant and
informed the new chef she hired to handle the restaurant until she could
return.
Farrah sat on the cold tile, her mother's voice echoing in
her head, telling her not to cry because it was her fault. It was her
wrong-doing that caused her so much pain. She allowed herself to get caught up
in the whirlwind of love and she was the one who had a broken heart. Don't
cry anymore, she told herself.
Farrah's phone was ringing off the hook with entertainment
reporters who wanted a comment. She had people knocking on her door. She lay in
bed trying to block out the day.
***
"We're in panic mode, Austin," Samuel Braxton
said as he paced the floor in his office. "We can blame this on
misjudgment; you are very in love with your soon-to-be wife Rebecca."
"I'm in love with Farrah Rue. The only reason I'm
staying with Rebecca is because she told me she is pregnant."
"Has she confirmed the pregnancy?"
"Not in public."
"What's your plan?"
"Sam, it's taken everything out of me to not run to
Farrah and hold her. I know she is scared."
"Think about yourself, Austin, the empire you built.
You don't want to be labeled as a cheater. The female fan base won't accept
that, it won't fly with them."
"What do you want me to say and do? Lie and say that I
don't love this woman?"
"Yes," Samuel said. "First, we're going to
pay Ms. Rue to keep her mouth shut. Second, you're going to do interviews
announcing your love for Rebecca and tell them that you were just suffering
from pre-wedding jitters. Now, shake your head yes."
Austin reluctantly nodded. "Hire a PR person for
Farrah."
Samuel groaned. "Not Farrah, Austin. You need to
address her as Ms. Rue, not Farrah."
"Help Farrah. I'll pay for the PR person," Austin
said before walking out of Samuel's office.
***
"Home wrecker!"
"Slut!"
"Whore!"
For the past week, Farrah had been bombarded with strangers
and media people taking shots at her. Maybe she deserved everything she got.
She knew what was at stake when she was romping in the sack with Austin. There
were personal pictures of her posted online, and photos of her cuddling with
Austin had gone public on entertainment shows. Her health and her business were
suffering. Customers stopped coming to her restaurant; Farrah had to lay off
employees because business became slow.
"Maybe you should take the time off." Vivian
handed Farrah a cold compress.
"I'm okay. We're seven workers down; that just leaves
Shawn, you, and me. I can't afford to leave you guys. Hopefully this will all
blow over very soon," Farrah said.
"Can I ask you a question?" Vivian asked.
"Go ahead."
"Why him? What's so special about him?"
"I don't answer that question."
Farrah's eyes traveled to a middle-aged white man sitting
in a booth in the nearly empty restaurant. "Can I help you?" she
asked him.
"Actually, I'm here to help you. Travis Anderson, at
your service."
"I don't need your help."
"You need me more than I need your delicious food I
tasted an hour ago. I'm a public relations guru. Your name is being dragged
through the mud on every news station, blog, and entertainment show. Since I've
been here, I have only seen three customers enter
"I can email them to you," Gwen said.
Maybe shedding some light on the relationship Austin had
with Farrah would send the poor girl running away.
***
"Good morning, Dallas! Last night, we had some
breaking news in the entertainment industry: "Country singer Austin
McBride was caught with his pants down with another chick who was not his wife!
The gossip world is on fire trying to see if the million dollar wedding is
still on. We're told the mystery woman is Farrah Rue, who owns a restaurant
here in Dallas called Southern Rose."
"Shit!" Farrah scrambled out of bed and rushed to
the bathroom and collapsed in front of the toilet, vomiting until she dry
heaved. Her worst nightmare was coming true the news of her affair had come to
light.
Picking up her phone, she dialed the restaurant and
informed the new chef she hired to handle the restaurant until she could
return.
Farrah sat on the cold tile, her mother's voice echoing in
her head, telling her not to cry because it was her fault. It was her
wrong-doing that caused her so much pain. She allowed herself to get caught up
in the whirlwind of love and she was the one who had a broken heart. Don't
cry anymore, she told herself.
Farrah's phone was ringing off the hook with entertainment
reporters who wanted a comment. She had people knocking on her door. She lay in
bed trying to block out the day.
***
"We're in panic mode, Austin," Samuel Braxton
said as he paced the floor in his office. "We can blame this on
misjudgment; you are very in love with your soon-to-be wife Rebecca."
"I'm in love with Farrah Rue. The only reason I'm
staying with Rebecca is because she told me she is pregnant."
"Has she confirmed the pregnancy?"
"Not in public."
"What's your plan?"
"Sam, it's taken everything out of me to not run to
Farrah and hold her. I know she is scared."
"Think about yourself, Austin, the empire you built.
You don't want to be labeled as a cheater. The female fan base won't accept
that, it won't fly with them."
"What do you want me to say and do? Lie and say that I
don't love this woman?"
"Yes," Samuel said. "First, we're going to
pay Ms. Rue to keep her mouth shut. Second, you're going to do interviews
announcing your love for Rebecca and tell them that you were just suffering
from pre-wedding jitters. Now, shake your head yes."
Austin reluctantly nodded. "Hire a PR person for
Farrah."
Samuel groaned. "Not Farrah, Austin. You need to
address her as Ms. Rue, not Farrah."
"Help Farrah. I'll pay for the PR person," Austin
said before walking out of Samuel's office.
***
"Home wrecker!"
"Slut!"
"Whore!"
For the past week, Farrah had been bombarded with strangers
and media people taking shots at her. Maybe she deserved everything she got.
She knew what was at stake when she was romping in the sack with Austin. There
were personal pictures of her posted online, and photos of her cuddling with
Austin had gone public on entertainment shows. Her health and her business were
suffering. Customers stopped coming to her restaurant; Farrah had to lay off
employees because business became slow.
"Maybe you should take the time off." Vivian
handed Farrah a cold compress.
"I'm okay. We're seven workers down; that just leaves
Shawn, you, and me. I can't afford to leave you guys. Hopefully this will all
blow over very soon," Farrah said.
"Can I ask you a question?" Vivian asked.
"Go ahead."
"Why him? What's so special about him?"
"I don't answer that question."
Farrah's eyes traveled to a middle-aged white man sitting
in a booth in the nearly empty restaurant. "Can I help you?" she
asked him.
"Actually, I'm here to help you. Travis Anderson, at
your service."
"I don't need your help."
"You need me more than I need your delicious food I
tasted an hour ago. I'm a public relations guru. Your name is being dragged
through the mud on every news station, blog, and entertainment show. Since I've
been here, I have only seen three customers enter
Similar Books
