When you have a thrice-a-day Starbucks addiction, a love affair with Louboutins, and an apartment in one of the most expensive cities in the world, the last thing you need is to lose your job. But that’s what happened to me—or what will, unless I can pull off the impossible: find Eli Murphy.
Eli, notorious playboy and New York City high roller, is the founder of the newzine where I work. He's been MIA for three years. But I think I can find him. If I do, and I get his story, I can keep my job.
What could go wrong?
Ask me when I’m tangled in my lies—and his bed sheets.