Deirdre shook herself awake and unbuckled her seatbelt. “Oh, God. Sorry. I was lost in thoughts. Thanks for bringing me home.”

“Don’t mention it.” Sam hesitated for a moment before asking, “Um, Miss McKinnon, you don’t look so good. Are you okay? Did Mr. Brighthall say something demeaning again?”

Deirdre wished that was the extent of his humiliation back there. She wished that was all it took for this to end.

But Brendan clearly enjoyed dragging it out. Deirdre resented him for it, yet she was clearly too hapless to do anything about it.

She could not say much to Sam, so she smiled and assured him that she was fine. Pulling out her phone, she asked, “Can you help me remove Brendan’s number from my blacklist?”

Sam had never worked with an old model before this, but it didn't take him long to get used to it. It took him only a minute. Deirdre thanked him and left.

Then, for days on end, Deirdre lived in a constant state of anxiety and distress. She would jump, prepare herself men