It all started with a sexy selfie.
Texted to the wrong number.
Not my finest momentâ€”but I have nothing to be ashamed of.
She thought I was no better, and I quote, than the knuckle-dragging douche-bags she was never dating again.
It was a stupid dare from a girl Iâ€™d met online, but since sheâ€™d given me a fake number, I didnâ€™t feel bad that my interests were suddenly focused elsewhereâ€”on the fiery and sharp-tongued, Peyton that I found myself sparring with over text for the rest of the evening.
The following day, my case of mistaken identity came back to bite me in the banana.
When I strolled into the office, I was introduced to Peyton as the new client I needed to win over. The Peyton, in case you're not tracking.
And letâ€™s just say she had my full attention.
Beauty? Oh yeah.
And the best part? She hated me on sight.
Dear God, do I love a challenge.
Let the games begin.