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Stanton wasn’t lying when he told her that he’d feed her. Took her to a little French bistro that she’d known about for ages but had never been to. Sammi knew every nook and cranny of her town. It was her job to know what was going on, from high-end galas and cutting-edge gallery openings to grunge rock concerts and bike rallies.
What? A biker b***h couldn’t be a personal stylist? Yeah, I get that a lot. Just because a girl was brought up among bikers didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate a nice pair of Manolo Blahnik. I mean, come on. Luckily, her clients understood her aesthetic. Being a biker actually paved her way into the niche she’d single-handedly created for herself. A feat she was quite proud of. She started out trying to build her business as a regular stylist, but she didn’t h
