The F List - Alessandra Torre Page 0,68

confusion, watching as he barreled forward, tripping over a side table, his arms outstretched, smile huge. I shoved past my mom and stopped, surprised when he launched at Emma, wrapping her in a bear hug that almost knocked her off her feet. She hugged him back. Without fear. With familiarity. With a smile. When her gaze darted nervously to me, I saw the deception drenched in every line of her delicate features.

“Missy?” I asked coldly, and this couldn’t be the helper that Wesley loved, the one who played with him and snuck him cupcakes. I stared at her and cursed myself for not asking more questions.

“Miss E,” she corrected quietly, her gaze not meeting mine, her arms still tight around him. She had been lying to me, and it was one thing to lie about a press release or a photo or a contract or a post. But Wesley was an entirely different and unforgivable thing.

"You didn't tell me you'd introduced her to Wesley," my mother scolded quietly, pulling me to the side. "Nice of you to give him more courtesy than me."

I snapped my jaw shut and forced myself to look away from Emma before I ripped her away from my brother.

“Ca-Ca!” Wesley lumbered over, his smile wide, face flushed from exertion. “You are here!”

I squeezed his shoulder and forced a smile. "I missed you, bud."

"I missed YOU, bud," he shot back. Over his shoulder, from the other side of the room, Dana met my eyes and gave me a knowing smirk.

70

#thisisawkward

EMMA

It was a slow-motion heartbreak. Wesley, tottering toward me, his short legs moving as quickly as he could, his face lit with surprise. Me, frozen, accepting his hug, squeezing him back, all while my brain sprinted in circles, on panic level 9. Cash's face. Surprised. Confused. And then… the hardening. The set of features, like a face mask changing color and cracking into place. The worst was the look of resigned expectation. Like he had known something was going to happen. Like this was what he had been waiting for.

I let Wesley hug me and waited for the blowup—but it didn't come. Cash said nothing to me, and the silence ripped out my throat and left me fighting for breath and unable to form my own defense.

Dana stepped in, orchestrating the train wreck with a well-placed seating arrangement, one that put Cash’s family on one sofa, mine on the other, us facing them across a glass table that was right at shin level and responsible for at least one bruise of mine.

I didn't have the energy to fight it, to put on a show for the cameras, to do the normal Emma things I would do. Cross my legs. Tousle my hair. Deliver dry and witty dialogue in the uncomfortable pauses. Pauses like right now, where Dana was looking at her notepad, and my mom was staring at Jocelyn, and Cash had one arm around Wes, a murderous look on his face.

“So,” Dana chirped, setting her pen down on the pad. “Let’s start with a question for Wesley. Wesley, how do you know Emma?”

Cash's gaze smoldered into me, and it wasn't a good heat. I looked away, focusing on Wesley, who perked up at the sight of the mini-sandwiches that were artfully displayed in the center of the coffee table.

“Miss E works with me.”

“I don’t understand.” Cash’s mother spoke up, her sophisticated lilt strumming over the tones as if it were a xylophone. “I thought Emma was a model. How is she working with Wesley?”

“Yes,” Cash intoned. “How?” He looked at me and beckoned for me to speak.

I glanced at the cameras. Then, my parents. Then, Wes.

"I volunteer at the Ranch. I've gotten to know Wes there." One hundred percent true, and it didn't even sound that bad.

"Really?" Cash hunched forward, his elbows settling on his knees. "Did you start volunteering there before or after I forced you to donate money to the Ranch?"

I recoiled at that. “You didn’t force me to donate money there. I—”

“Did you start volunteering there before or after?” he interrupted.

“After.” I lifted my chin. “I toured the facility and wanted to do more, so I looked into ways to help.”

“Very gracious of you,” he said, and it was back to the Cash of before. Cold. Irritated. Dismissive.

“Miss E had a sleepover,” Wesley continued. “We play together.”

"She what?" Jocelyn flinched, her perfect features gaping in alarm.

"I didn’t sleep over," I hastened. "I just stayed until he fell asleep one night." It sounded horrible, and