Michelle might not be a b***h, but she could certainly channel “severely frustrated” easily.
She needed sleep, breakfast, and some private time with one Ricardo Manella—without her psychotic self doubts blowing up the conversation before his ridiculous conviction that he was a forevermore-failure got in the way.
What she got was a tall brunette with sun-kissed skin and a man-killer walk moseying over from a nearby helicopter like she was God’s gift. Which, maybe she was. She had the kind of looks that Michelle had seen in a hundred fashion magazines—at least the really high-end ones. Except she was wearing wrap-around shades and a flightsuit instead of the latest from Vera Wang.
Anton, Ricardo, and Hannah all took one look at her and snapped to attention, offering sharp salutes.
Jesse’
