The F List - Alessandra Torre Page 0,80

and be ready for action."

Rachel Gladden, Crew, House of Fame

Two years after the reunion show… on May 14th, both Emma and Cash deleted all of their social media accounts. Like… deleted them. Gone. Followers. Photos. Videos. Branded posts. Everything from the two arguably most famous internet celebrities in the world, gone in less than five minutes, and with no warning whatsoever.

The internet flipped a shit. There were scavenger hunts going for screenshots and saved posts and articles that had featured them—it was crazy. People who had never followed them were getting pissed that they no longer had the chance, and you had thousands of girls snapping videos of them bawling because they couldn't find their profiles. It legitimately shook every social media and dominated every airway. My grandma heard about it, and she still thinks George W is president.

And at first, we thought it was a publicity stunt. And then people were saying they died. And then we found out that Wesley Mitchell had been moved out of the Ranch and that was when the conspiracy theories began, and an entire new wave of media circled and honestly—it was brilliant. It was all so damn brilliant. I wanted to stand up and applaud them for it, but it's hard to applaud someone who wasn't there, and Emma and Cash were just flat out … gone.

Poof.

From a hundred and twenty million followers to 0.

Like I said, brilliant.

Ingrid Long, The Celebrity Report

80

#dontlookoverhere

EMMA

We spent over a year on the plan. The first six months was making sure we really wanted to do it, then six months in the implementation. Wesley was our chief concern and priority, and we wanted to make sure that he was happy with the idea and would be in a location around other teenagers with Down's.

It took three months to find what we needed—a town where we could disappear but not be isolated, and somewhere close to a city where Wesley could have frequent interaction and instruction with other Down's Syndrome teenagers. Most importantly, a big piece of property that had secure access points and privacy.

I recognized our home the moment I saw it. Thirty-two acres that butted up to a top-secret government facility, the sort with twelve-foot electric fences and KEEP OUT signs that threatened deadly force. It had a six-thousand square foot house in terrible need of remodeling, a barn, and two guest cottages. It was in a small town with poor internet access, more bookstores than restaurants, and an average resident age of 63.

In January, we closed on the property, hiding it behind a string of LLCs that would take a forensic team to trace. We were welcomed, shown how to program the property's entrance gate, and then left to fend for ourselves.

In February, we moved a caretaker into one of the guest cottages and started renovation of Wesley’s room and our master suite. We applied for our change of names and moved our money into a variety of trusts and stocks. It was staggering, when you looked at our assets. More than enough to live the rest of our lives on, with only a slight reduction in our annual charitable donations. All in all, it was more than enough to disappear with.

In March, the kitchen was torn down the studs and redone. A pool was added between the home and guest house, along with secure fencing and surveillance along the perimeter of the property. I sat down with my parents and told them the plan, minus the details of our location.

In April, we began shipping our life. We ignored the furniture, but mailed the clothing, private items, and art to the new home. I sold our extra vehicles and quietly discontinued our local memberships. I set up compensation packages for Edwin, Dion, and Michelle and prepared termination paperwork. I sat with Cash in a bare and minimalistic house and brainstormed about our future.

“Tell me we aren’t crazy.” I laid on my back on the couch, my head in his lap, and watched the fan above me slowly turning.

“We aren’t crazy.” He traced a design along my stomach. “I think this is the first un-crazy thing we’ve done.”

“Are you going to miss it all?” I tilted my head back so I could see him.

He smiled down at me. “Maybe a little. But I would also love the idea of walking into a grocery store and not having a mob of people come up to me.”

“I want to go an entire day without looking at my phone.” I settled back into place.

“I want to grow a beard. A huge one. One long enough to twirl.”

I laughed. “I want to stop shaving my legs. And under my arms. And bathing.”

"Okay, yes. This is crazy. Abandon the plan." He tickled me, and I shrieked and kicked his hand away.

"Alright, I'll bathe," I conceded. "But I'm definitely stopping waxing, blowouts, and makeup. Like, maybe mascara on date night, but otherwise no."

“I like that idea.” He brushed my hair off my forehead. “You’re beautiful without makeup.”

"I also want to fart in public," I decided, and he laughed. "No, I'm serious!" I picked up a couch pillow and swung it toward him. "There's no way we can fart in public now. It'd be a disaster. But in a month…" I gave a happy sigh. "I could let out a giant loud fart, and someone would shoot me a horrified look, and that would be it. No further repercussions."

“You know…” he said slowly. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you fart.”

“I rarely do it.” I lifted up one butt check and tried. Nothing happened. “I’ll come find you next time I feel one coming on,” I promised.

“You don’t have to do that.”

I grinned.

“Do you think we’re going to be bored?”

"I don't know." I traced my fingers over the back of his hand. "I think renovating is a pretty full-time job. And we'll have to fill up the house with furniture, since we're keeping all this here. And then we'll get horses. And pigs."

“One pig,” he interrupted. “You said one pig.”

“I know, but I’m worried it will be lonely. So two pigs. Just so he has a friend.”

“And Wesley wants a rabbit.”

“Right. Plus…” I moved his hand under the hem of my shirt, so it was flat against my stomach. “I hear babies are a big distraction.”

He caressed the small bump that was getting harder and harder to hide. “A very big distraction,” he said quietly, and there was an emotional catch in his voice that warmed every inch of me.

"So, we won't be bored." I looked up at him, and he lowered his mouth to mine and gently kissed my lips.

“No,” he agreed. “We won’t.”

One month later, inside the gates of our new home and with Wesley sandwiched between us on the couch, we took a deep breath and reached for our phones.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Ready.” I nodded.

It took less than three minutes, and then we were gone.

81

#whattoreadnext

Hey there! I hope you enjoyed The F List.

This book is a little different from my others. For one, it has no sex. If you like the lack of hanky panky in your books, I’d point you to The Ghostwriter next. It’s a more emotional and suspenseful read, but I promise that you’ll love it. It was nominated for Mystery/Suspense of the Year and has over 6,000 five-star reviews on Goodreads.

If you like more sizzle in your novels, I’d direct you to the majority of my backlist. Love Chloe is probably the most similar to this one, in terms of trendy, 20-something heroines. But here are a few other recommendations…

Filthy Vows. A super-steamy story of a married couple who decide to spice up their life in some unorthodox ways.

Love in Lingerie. A friends-to-lovers romance about coworkers who can’t keep their hands off each other.

Black Lies. A 3x New York Times bestseller that is a love triangle with a jaw-dropping plot twist.

Hollywood Dirt. A 3x New York Times bestseller about a small town girl who meets her match in a movie star. This book was actually made into a movie!

If you are on a budget and would like a free book, my romantic comedy Tripping on a Halo is available at alessandratorre.com/freebook.

Happy reading! Thank you for picking up this novel, and please consider recommending The F List to your friends.