Chapter Eight

“A cheap fucking stripper!”

That was Leah, her voice still about to tear down the whole house. I could not look at Logan in the face, because he was seething with anger where he was seated, just some inches away from me.

Leah had on her iPad, and a “friend” had seen hidden pictures of me in a stripper’s club in a dead end club house and sent it to her.

“I thought you were just a bloody college student! Isn’t that what you told us, you slut!”

Right there, I would have leapt at Leah for not just raising her voice at me, but throwing underserved insults. Since the appalling news reached her, she had been shouting and cursing, and calling Logan in between.

Logan had had to leave his shoot and rush home to see what the disaster was all about.

Leah had not even given me the slightest opportunity to explain that it was all lies, and that the pictures splashed all over the blogger’s post was not me.

“What else don’t we know about you, Alice?” She queried. “What other lies are hidden beneath