Two months ago, I was probably hiding out in some dark, piss-smelling alley, waiting to snap a few photos of an A list celebrity leaving the club, wasted and lip locked with someone they'd regret the next morning.
As matter of fact, I'm sure that's what I was doing.
Rachel Gray. She was the star of a G-rated family sit-com, the daughter of a Baptist minister and a top of the line humanitarian. I ruined her goody-two-shoes image in less than twenty-four hours when I sold photos of her making out with her much older and much married director, Victor Valentine.
I don't know where she is or what she's doing now, but out of all of the careers I've had a hand in sabotaging, hers is the one I feel the worst about. After the photos went viral, I heard she hopped a plane to Australi
