Free Luxe Glamour (The Glamour Series Book 5) by Maggie Marr Page B

had run into the street and been hit. A convertible Boxster was stopped in the middle of the road. Inside a woman had her hand pressed to her mouth. Then, suddenly, she slammed the car into reverse and zipped away. She was moving so fast and furious that she almost took out two photographers.
    “That was Sophia Legend!” someone said. The cameras continued flashing.
    “Oh my God, was that Sophia Legend?” someone else asked.
    By now I was in the street myself. I bent over the Staffordshire Terrier that was clearly dazed. He lay quietly on his side. Webber ran up with a blanket and the keys to Dillon’s truck.
    “Come on man, there’s a vet not far from here.” I wrapped the pup up and we jogged toward Dillon’s truck.
    “You know where we’re going?”
    “Pet Vet. It’s the best place and it’s not far.” 
    “I’ll call and let them know we’re on our way.”
    I put the pup in the back and slammed the door shut. Webber slid into the seat beside me. “Where’s Agnes?”
    “With the bimbo.” He reached his hand over the seat and rested it on the injured dog. “Fuck man, punch it.”
    Who knew Hollywood agents had hearts?

 
Chapter 7
     
    Sophia
     
    People loved dogs. And they hated people who hit dogs with their cars and then fled the scene. Guess who the public loathed now?
    “Sophia? Can I come in?”
    Huddled in a ball on my bed, with my comforter pulled tight around me, I hadn’t left my room in three days. Why leave? I was persona non grata, I was mud. I was, according to TMZ, worse than mud. I was the loathsome slime in which the creepy crawly things that couldn’t exist in mud lived.
    “You can’t stay in there forever,” Ellen said, adding, “Choo is here.”
    Choo? Choo! I’d been so distraught I hadn’t even looked in the mirror for two days. I hadn’t showered for two days. I’d simply shielded my eyes with my hands so I didn’t have to look at my reflection. If I was going to wallow, I didn’t really want to see the effects. Besides, I had a pretty good idea what I looked like right now because well, Ellen looked like this nearly every day when she went to the library. Speaking of Ellen …
    “Okay, Soph, we’re coming in. I’ve tried the sappy I-feel-sorry-for-you sister routine for three days and now I’m going to do the buck-it-up-sissy thing.”
    The door opened. I pulled my comforter up to my chin and flipped over onto my side. I pulled a pillow over my head. Ridiculous? Not when I’d just learned that they pulled my spread in American Vogue because I accidentally hit some mutt with my convertible. The corner of my bed sank. I pulled the pillow tighter over my head.
    “Go away. I don’t want to see anyone. And, believe me, no one wants to see me!”
    “Girl, you can not sit in here like this. You’ve got to pick up that pretty little ass of yours and get real. We’ve got to find a way to rehabilitate your image and make the public love you again.” Choo’s voice was low and quiet. He was deadly serious.
    I pulled the pillow away from my eyes. “You can make the public love me again?”
    Choo walked to the window and pushed open the drapes and pulled up the window. Ignoring my question he said, “Besides, girl, you are starting to stink.”
    The words drove a knife through my heart. Me. The supermodel, the beautiful girl, member of the Legend family was starting to stink . The entire thing was too much to bear. I squinted. The sun hurt my eyes. “Is that even possible? To make the public love me again?”
    Choo’s gaze shot from me to Ellen. “I’m not going to lie to you, running over a dog, especially one as cute as Drummond, is pretty damn bad for your image.”
    I pressed my pillow to my mouth.
    “And then, instead of staying and seeing how you could help, you zip away in a Porsche?” Choo pressed his fists to his hips and shook his head. “Your public is pretty damn mad and I don’t blame them.”
    “I didn’t mean to hit him, it’s not like I