Chapter 37

Sierra had one goal in life: she wanted to be famous.

After a disastrous piano recital when she was ten, she realized her profound lack of talent in the areas that people usually became famous for was an obstacle to her lifelong dream.

But then she got older and started using social media—and that changed everything.

While scrolling through Instagram pictures on her phone, she realized you didn’t need to be skilled to be famous. You just needed to convince a bunch of people that they should pay attention to you.

Sierra had done it all. She had multiple accounts on all platforms. She made song covers of the current pop hits. She filmed clothing hauls.

She tweeted inspirational quotes. She blogged about her outfits and where to shop for the best deals.

Her current project was creating a lifestyle brand. The bath bombs were only the beginning.

She planned on having a full range of products, with everything from under-eye moisturizers to eyelash glue—all with her name on it. She was an entrepreneur. She didn’t work for anyone but herself.

She was a Girl Boss.

Of course, when she wasn’t being a Girl Boss, she worked in retail for a clothing department store.

She had to put up with the drudgery of folding and refolding clothes until her Girl Boss business started to actually make money.

On top of that, Sierra truly despised her housemate. She liked the cheaper rent. She appreciated that for the most part. Octavia was either not in the house or very unnoticeable when she was.

Gracie was also a nuisance, not because of anything she did—she was just as quiet and unnoticeable as Octavia.

But there was something about the two of them Sierra didn’t like. It was their calm, aloof responses to her words.

Okay, so usually when she said something to either of them, it was a little insulting. But they always responded with words Sierra couldn’t decipher the meaning of.

It would sound like they agreed with her, but there was a hint of mockery in it too.

She felt that they thought themselves better than her because they were, well, smart and all. They knew computers and how to fix things and how to make money doing it.

And maybe that did kind of make her feel insecure next to them, so she did maybe roll her eyes and make biting remarks on how they dressed and how there was no way any man would find either of them attractive.

Unfortunately, this didn’t seem to bother either Octavia or Gracie, a fact that only further infuriated Sierra and made her feel even more insecure.

She would turn to her Instagram feed and console herself with the number of likes on her OOTD picture. Random male strangers would like her pictures, sometimes even direct messaging her.

It was there that she found proof she mattered in this world.

Raemon Kentworth was the best thing that had happened to her. Never in her wildest dreams did Sierra think she would have the opportunity to meet him.

Imagine what it would be like to be the girl who captured the heart of Raemon Kentworth?

Forget that, imagine just being seen with him? If Sierra could post a picture with only a tenth of Raemon Kentworth in the frame, she would become Insta-famous in, quite literally, an instant.

She’d kill for a chance to see him in the flesh.

And who was the one who got to spend all that glorious time with the most glorious man on earth? Her FRIGGIN HOUSEMATE!!!!

A girl who wouldn’t know the difference between highlighter and bronzer for fuck’s sake.

A girl whose idea of dressing nicely was a clean pair of pants and a hoodie that had only been worn a few times. She hadn’t even known who the man was!

Fate was a real bitch, and Sierra would never forgive it for cheating her out of what should rightfully be hers.

One way or another, Sierra had vowed to have her man. The advent of Lila Scott brought all her schemes to grinding halt. She had no choice but to recognize a superior player in the field.

Octavia she had never really worried about. She knew she’d always be a step above Octavia in any man’s eyes. But with Lila, there was no way. It was a complete defeat.

To cheer herself up, Sierra decided to go out for the night. Some girls she knew were heading out to a party at a fancy club downtown.

Sierra dusted the bath bomb crumbs off her lap and bounced into the little shared bathroom.

She put on her favorite playlist, the one with all the latest pop hits, and set her phone on top of the toilet tank. Then she tied her long dark hair up and began the process of putting on her glam face.

Two hours later, she emerged from the bathroom, hair and makeup all done. And hour after that, she emerged from her room with a sparkling, short, tight dress on.

She slipped on a pair of stilettos, applied one last layer of deep-red lipstick, and then waltzed out the door to the waiting Uber driver.

It wasn’t until 7 a.m. that she stumbled back through the front door. She’d only had a few drinks and danced to a few songs.

When it felt like she’d taken enough pictures and twerked up on enough strangers, she decided to call it a night.

Then someone in her group had announced another party happening a few blocks away. Sierra had cheered in agreement with the rest of her group, but inwardly cringed.

Her shoes were killing her, she was cold and hungry, and she wanted nothing more than to crawl into her warm bed and sleep.

But she couldn’t miss an opportunity like this.

She’d posted one photo of herself at the club, having another photo of herself at a party right after going to the club would be so much more effective. She’d look like she really was living it up.

Finally back at her apartment, she once again locked herself in the bathroom to take off the layers she’d meticulously put on hours ago.

It took thirty-five makeup wipes to get everything off, then a cleanser scrub and astringent to make sure there were no negative after-effects of the makeup.

Finally, she tied her hair up once more and decided to put on a seaweed scrub mask, so her skin would be glowing and hydrated when she next put on the glam face.

She smeared dark-green goop all over her face, only leaving circles around her eyes and mouth clear.

As she walked out of the bathroom, she wasn’t surprised to hear the voices of Octavia and Gracie, talking through whatever game they were playing.

She also wasn’t surprised they had played video games through the night. That was a regular occurrence.

She had changed out of the dress and was just tying the belt of her bathrobe around her middle when the doorbell rang. Sierra ignored it.

Whoever was dumb enough to think anyone would be awake at this hour was…well, not wrong. But she’d be damned if she answered the doorbell that early in the morning.

The doorbell rang again three times; still, Sierra ignored it. She supposed Octavia and Gracie had their gaming headphones on, so they couldn’t hear the door either.

Sierra was just about to crawl into her bed when a loud banging of a fist on the front door erupted.

“Jesus!” she snarled, marching out of her room. Whoever it was, this person was not relenting. She was ready to give them a piece of her mind.

She reached the door, undid the lock, and yanked the door open. “What the hell do you—”

The words were cut off sharply when the air was suddenly sucked out of Sierra’s lungs at the sight of the tall, broad, muscular man standing at her door.