CAMERON'S P.O.V
I wasn't expecting to get a call from my PR manager, Delilah, the first thing in the morning.
Twenty minutes after the first time my phone rang — I stepped out of the shower — and into the steam filled bathroom, rubbing the remnants of sleep out of my eyes with the heels of my palm - feeling vaguely human again. I had been up most of the night, thanks to Shayla. When my phone rang for the umpteenth time, I sighed and stepped out.
Hastily wrapping a towel around my waist, I scooped up the phone, half-afraid to pick up the call as Delilah's name flashed across the screen.
"Your antics have shaved off twenty years from my lifespan, already," Delilah said in greeting, and I laughed, not at all surprised by her blunt greeting. Tucking the phone between my ear and my damp shoulder as I went on to dry my hair, "Am I that scandalous?"
"You're nearly not scandalous enough," Delilah cursed. "We need to generate more buzz around your name, starting from today, and will continue i
