I pulled my golden hair into two pigtails on a cloudy Saturday morning. "No, they won't accept this," I pulled the rainbow scrunchies out as I sighed.
My life had never been perfect. I lived my life as any true billionaire's son would have. My life had gone downhill from there, I went out on my own, with only a small loan of a million dollars.
"GET OUT OF YOUR ROOM" Putin said as he slapped me across the cheeks. I sobbed loudly. "Shit, I'm so sorry, Donald," Putin said as he hugged me.
We were quiet the rest of the day, until the fated moment as we were walking into Gordon Ramsay's restaurant, yes, THE Gordon Ramsay.
As the bodyguard opened the door, my body was hit by crisp air and the smell of delicious food. My golden hair sweeped to the side as a sudden gust from outside blew into my face.
Then, as if angels sang from above, there he was. The one and only Gordon Ramsay.
YOU ARE READING
Quirky Trump x Gordon Ramsay
Romance** Disclaimer: I wrote this a little while back, but currently (6/13/20), everything is so fucking awful that I can't joke about this anymore ** A romance we'd all suspect. Donald J. Trump eats at Gordon Ramsay's restaurant, and what happens next is...
