"No time, I'll explain in the car," he said, pulling her off the bed.
"Hey, I have to clean-up!" she protested, but he was already pushing her out the door.
"Great party, Cara," the not-Ross said to Cara. "Great seeing you again."
Amanda straightened, preening as she realized everyone thought she was 'with' the celebrity.
"Nice to see you again, Johnny," she said, bursting Amanda's bubble. Was she the only one who didn't know who this guy was?
"See you Russell!" someone else yelled, confusing Amanda. Was he Johnny or Russell?
"Fuck the bitch hard!" a voice called, making her blush. Was that what they thought she was going to do? The feel of cum trickling down her cleavage made it hard to dispute.
Outside Cara's place Johnny (or Russell) pulled her to a Silver Lexus, making her eyes widen and her greedy mind perk up.
"So, are you Johnny or Russell?" she asked, as they slid in the car.
"Johnny Russell. I cover for Ross Dermot."
"Cover?" she asked, imagining him singing, or maybe doing impersonations at kids birthday parties.
"Yeah, like now when he does something stupid and his agent wants me to make it look like it couldn't possibly be him."
"Huh?"
"Look, just do what I tell you to and you'll meet Ross himself."
"You could have told me," she muttered sulkily.
Johnny guffawed. "Like you gave me the chance? Everyone else at that party knew who I was and who I wasn't. You're the one who threw her face in my lap."
Amanda's face grew red in recollection. "It was an accident," she muttered.
"Nevermind, we're already here. Now listen to the plan. It's pretty simple."
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