Maintaining a level of privacy that keeps followers guessing and engaged.
We ate at that cliffside place where the waiters know your name if your Amex is black enough. I ordered the catch of the day. He ordered another bottle. By the second course, I’d told him about the restraining order (not my fault), the book deal I walked away from (too honest), and the fact that I haven’t called my mother in eight months (she voted for the wrong person in the divorce). the cabo diaries christina carter