Page 21 of Hired By My Rich Baby Daddy

“I am not.” I smiled.

“You caught that way too quick.”

“I listen.”

“Nah, you do more than listen.”

I looked through the glass, and everybody was still watching us.

Ozy leaned forward and read some of the comments before grabbing his phone. He placed his arm around me again and pulled me into the frame with him.

I saw people saying I was pretty, asking who I was, and wanting to know how good he smelled.

It was hilarious.

Before I could even respond, the booth door opened, and Ginger stepped inside.

“Uh, are you done playing?” she asked. “Because I’m ready toreallylay the track down.”

Ozy gave her a long look before saying, “Actually, I think it’s time for a break.”

Then he looked at me. “You hungry?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I could eat.”

Ginger scoffed and looked me up and down. “Yeah, I bet you could eat a lot.”

The insult hit me immediately.

Clearly, she was taking a dig at my weight, but I wasn’t about to stoop to her level, especially with cameras everywhere.

I stood up and gave Ozy a small smile before excusing myself.

“Aye, chill the fuck out,” I heard him say behind me.

The booth door closed, but when I glanced back through the glass, I could see them arguing.

“Girl, not you got his bitch mad,” Veronica said when I walked over.

She gave me a high five.

“You sing really good too. I’m low-key jelly.”

“Thank you, but it was just for fun.”

Ky walked over and started ushering the winners out of the room toward the break area.

Except it didn’t look anything like a regular break room. It looked more like a luxury restaurant, and they had everything set up real nice for lunch.

Even with thoughts of me filling my belly on my mind, so was Ozy and how he looked at me in the booth.

“Aye, everybody get the fuck out. Give me the room,” I ordered as soon as I stepped out of the booth, Ginger so close behind me she damn near tripped me.

The cameras were still rolling, but the documentary crew knew how I moved by now. When I said I needed space, that meant back the fuck up until I said otherwise. The whole purpose of the weekend was to give the winners a look into my real life, but some shit didn’t need to be shown. Especially not Ginger throwing another one of her fits.

The shit was tiring.

Within seconds, it was only me and Ginger standing there.