Forced to Sign for His Lover's Crime
Over the Fourth of July weekend, I took my boyfriend's sister to his flashy new influencer hub.
Fresh off brain surgery, Benedetta Griffin needed a break from her recovery, and I hoped the trip would lift her spirits.
In the hub, a streamer was hawking a face cream like a carnival barker. "Listen, fam! The boss lady is slashing prices. Get this $3,800 cream for just $398 today!"
Benedetta tugged my sleeve. "That cream is bad news."
She'd interned at the FDA last summer and could spot a scam from a mile away. "It's packed with steroids. Long-term use will ruin your skin."
Driven by her sense of justice, she marched up to the streamer. "You can't sell this unlicensed junk. The steroids exceed legal limits. Pull it from the shelves."
Morgan Lamb froze, but then her fake smile twisted into a scowl. "Who the hell are you to trash my product?"
Benedetta didn't back down. "You're scamming people, and you know it."
Morgan planted her hands on her hips. "I'm the boss lady here. How dare you slander my brand? Nobody leaves until you cough up $500,000 for damages."
"Boss lady?" My stomach churned.
My boyfriend's sudden venture into the streaming industry now made sense. He was sinking money into this hub to bankroll his lover.
I fumbled for my phone to call him, but Morgan was faster. "Babe, get to the hub. Two haters crashed the party, trying to tank our business."