Everything went wrong when I trimmed his bush.
And no, it's not what you're thinking. I'm a professional. The client hired me to trim a bush in his garden for a party. I accidentally turned it into something that rhymes with "a big rock and walls". Imagine my surprise when the art world decides it's a masterpiece.
Were my raging hormones the cause of my bush sculpting blunder? I mean, who would blame me if they were? After meeting Harry Barnidge for the first time, my brain went straight to cavewoman mode. There were undignified fantasies of being bashed over the head and carried off to a cave, a significant loss of vocabulary, and maybe even a little drooling.
But I can't focus on that. On him. I need this job to make my little sister's dreams come true. Until now, I've managed to screw everything in my professional and personal life up, but I'm determined to make this work.
So when Mr. Heartstopper offers to help me manage my accidental art career, it's impossible to say no. It's like the old saying goes. If you erect it, they will come. Or something like that.
Contains mature themes.
