I scowl. “After this, no more endorsements,” I tell Pappy. I thought I wanted to be famous. But all it’s been is a pain in my ass. “I nearly got killed filming that damn boot ad,” I grumble. Pappy guffaws, his big stomach quivering. “Do you think I’d put you in danger, my girl?” I snort. “Would you?” I bare my teeth as the photographer gets in my face with the camera. “Hurry the fuck up.” Taking a draw on his cigar, Pappy says, “You’re my little ticket. My moneymaker.”
Eww
