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I could only assume he’d ended up at the same club Kendall was at and that she was the passenger in his front seat.

I met her at the door, holding it open enough for her to slip inside, and I waved at Jenner as he reversed out of my driveway. Once I locked up, she was sitting on my couch in the same dress that had appeared in the photos. Her hair wasn’t as wild as it had looked in the shots, her skin not as flushed.

She didn’t have any lipstick on.

“Do you want some water?”

She nodded, and I went into the kitchen, grabbing two bottles that I brought into the living room, handing her one. I took the blanket off the back of the couch and spread it over her.

“Tell me what happened.”

Photographers manipulated their shots before they sold them to online outlets. Responses and situations were almost always taken out of context. I knew because these were things I fixed for a living, suing photographers and media sources when I could prove fraud.

Before my hands went anywhere near Kendall, I