Let’s just say my name is “Cassie.” I wake up every morning whenever I want, and for the most part, I do whatever I want. I don’t really think about it when bills come, and I sometimes even shop without looking at price tags. No, I am not a trust fund kid. I am a Kept Woman, and this is how a country girl from Ohio became one.

When I first moved to Orange County, I was a lost little girl. My boyfriend in Granville had broken up with me, and I knew one girl from Granville who had moved to OC with her aunt, and of course, I had seen the show. With my heart as broken as it was, the show and the girl I was merely acquaintances with offering that I could stay with her and her aunt until I got my own place, was all the convincing I needed.

Read I Was a Call Girl For a Day: Part 1

I took a job at Hooters. It wasn’t as bad as the name sounds. We did have to wear short little booty shorts but for the most part, I felt like I was treated pretty well. One night my friend “Angela” told me about some great party in Newport Coast she was going to. I had driven by before, and saw the gigantic, perfectly manicured homes. All I cared about was the free food and liquor. I rarely ate anything besides leftovers from work and Top Ramen. Angela’s aunt was very nice to let me stay in their home, but she was no cook, and neither was Angela nor I.

So, gladly, we changed in the bathroom after work and curled our blonde hair to look what we thought was our best. Thank God I had done my nails the night before. That was rare. We drove over to the gated community where this party Angela had heard about would be. Angela parked her Honda Accord around the corner from the house, so no one would see us in a car that did not fit in with the shiny and clean Mercedes, BMWs, and SUVs with drivers that waited out front for the fancy guests inside.

“How did you hear about this?” I asked Angela. “Tyler is working catering here,” she replied. Tyler is Angela’s brother who was kind of obnoxious, but was good for reasons like this.