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Previously… Aspiring actress turned undercover Loan Some employee, Beth, is given a second chance to prove she’s ‘Loan Some material’ after botching her first assignment. She’s given a high stakes, top-secret assignment: to pose as the state governor’s runaway daughter at a high profile event.
Frank unbuttoned the top collar of his pinstriped shirt and looked her squarely in the eye. “This is extremely sensitive material, of course.”
She nodded, enjoying the tingling wisps of excitement prickling up her spine.
“Complete discretion is expected.”
“Absolutely.” She leaned closer, as though the secret might evaporate if she didn’t take hold of it immediately after it left his lips.
“The governor’s daughter hasn’t run away exactly.”
She sat back. “Where is she then?”
“She’s eloped with Franco Clayton.”
A raspy gasp escaped before she could stop herself. “The millionaire?”
Frank gravely nodded and offered a, ‘what can you do,’ shrug of the shoulders.
“But he’s crazy, isn’t he?”
He raised a luxuriously plump eyebrow that almost made up for the lack of hair on his head. “Probably, but I hear she’s wound tighter than Donald Trump at a political rally, so it’s not unbelievable.”
“He’s in his sixties though.”
Frank looked at her curiously.
“Not that there’s anything wrong with being sixty,” she sputtered, realizing he had to be at least sixty-five. “It’s just….you know, there’s such an age gap—“
“She’s run away with the other one,” he replied dismissively, cutting her off. “The other Franco Clayton: his son.”
“There’s a Junior. Gotcha. Anything else I need to know?”
He sighed and began reading a hasty scrawl on a legal notepad. “You obviously answer to the name, Samantha. You’re only going to make a brief appearance when the family stands at the ceremony, smile for the photo opp, and then disappear.”
“But won’t that look strange? If I just leave?”
“The Williamson’s will tell guests you have a migraine. No problem,” he said matter of factly, as if that solved everything. “And don’t talk to anyone.”
Beth threw her head back. “But what if I’m approached?”
“Ms. Williamson will make sure no one gets near you. Just be silent and smile. This assignment will literally last ten minutes. Can you keep things together for that long?” His question was laced with a sour sarcasm.
“I got this.”
Two hours later, tucked away in an interior room in the sprawling Victorian mansion at which the ceremony was taking place, Beth stood in a purple lace cocktail dress in front of a full-length mirror. A long blond wig that made her look like Paris Hilton circa the 90’s cascaded over her shoulders. She studied her transformation into Malibu Barbie, thoroughly regretting her agreement to take on this assignment.
Before her brooding could reach soaring heights, the mahogany door behind her creaked open. In walked a severe looking woman, who appeared to be in her mid to late fifties. She was wearing a modest navy blue skirt suit and her graying ruby hair was pulled back in a tight, neat bun that lightly grazed the nape of her neck. Her hazel eyes squinted in quiet dissatisfaction, as she eyed Beth like she was a two-headed creature from Mars.
“Sorry I’m late,” came a familiar voice right behind the woman. A moment later, none other than the handsome stranger from the dog wedding, was standing before her. Vote below on what will happen next or if reading by email click view poll.