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All I need is a place to hide for a few weeks.
The paparazzi were on my ass 24/7 and I needed a bit of breathing room—an escape from the madness—before the media frenzy begins.
Sure, I could have gone to a secluded cabin in the woods—but I didn’t want to be bored out of my mind. I’d seen enough wide open spaces as a kid from Texas to last me a lifetime.
So instead, I let my agent hook me up with a modest house in the burbs where we didn’t think anyone would find me hiding in plain sight.
I’d have a roommate; but supposedly, she was going to give me space. Stay out of my way and respect my boundaries. According to my agent, I wouldn’t hear a peep from her.
Wrong. He was wrong about everything and now my life was never going to be the same.
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Among her favorite vices, she includes: iced lattes, historical architecture and well-placed sarcasm. She lives colorfully, collects vintage books, art, loves flea markets, and fancies herself British.
