“That bitch!” The ex-model threw the newspaper to the ground.
“What’s the matter love?” Her current bit of beefcake was lying on the bed, looking up at her.
“It’s my publicist!” she shouted.
“Jeannie? What’s she done?” asked the studmuffin.
“No, not Jeannie. My ex publicist.”
He nodded his head. “Oh her. Right. What’s she done?”

The model picked up the paper so that she could throw it once more. “Here she is, being interviewed in this piece of trash. Do you know what she called me? Do you know what she said about me?”

“What did she say?”

“She said I was a liar, a cheat, a vain and pompous queen of ..” she had to grab the paper and check the word again “mendacity!”

“Wow” said the hunk. “So what are you gonna do?”

“I’m going to sue that little tramp into the middle of next year, that’s what! Where’s my solicitors number?” She was fiddling with her cell phone, shaking with anger.

Later, when she hung up, she sat on the bed quietly.
“What did he say? Can you sue her?”

“Yeah… For breach of confidence.”