Page 62 of Twisted Truth

“Speaking of the red carpet,” Emily says. “You and Asher will be photographed together.”

“I assumed as much.”

“Yes, well, those pictures need to look . . . natural. We need to pass the two of you off as a real couple. That means each touch, gesture, and look needs to seem like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like you’ve done it hundreds of times.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh. Sometimes photographers will even shout out things they want to see. They may shout for the two of you to kiss. That doesn’t mean you necessarily need to kiss, but we can’t have the two of you looking like an awkward prom couple.”

“I’ll schedule an emergency session with a posing professional,” Matthew says, whipping out his phone.

“A what?”

“A posing professional. Believe it or not there are people who specialize in helping you look your best on a red carpet. I’ll get one to the penthouse tonight to work with you, as well as you and Asher as a couple.”

“This gets weirder by the day.”

Matthew scoffs. “We’re only getting started, darling.”

“Your best sideis definitely your left,” the posing professional, Rhonda, says to me as she looks me over. She’s a nice but blunt woman in her forties or fifties, it’s hard to tell, and she leaves no room for nonsense in her work. She’s set up a photography backdrop between the kitchen and the living room for me to pose in front of so she can take practice photos of me for tomorrow.

“Let me see the dress,” she says as she adjusts the settings of her camera.

Emily pulls the dress out of the garment bag and lays it out on the couch.

“That’s it?” she asks, unimpressed. “It’s a little conservative, don’t you think?”

“Yes, well we’re going for conservative and understated tomorrow night to combat some spicy headlines.”

“Ah, okay. Go try it on,” she orders me, “and we’ll see what we’re working with.”

When I come back out in the dress, Rhonda gives me an approving nod of her head. “It’s better than I thought it would be.”

The dress is a rich shade of plum and fits me like a glove. The high neckline and long sleeves give the dress a more traditional look, but it’s backless, which gives it some covert sex appeal. The team thought it was the perfect balance. We’ll see if they’re right after the gala.

We go through the most flattering ways for me to stand, to pose, and generally how to “work a carpet” for the next hour. Every feature and body part of mine is ruthlessly broken down as to how it will look under certain lighting and from certain angles. Rhonda isn’t unkind, she’s just incredibly honest. Which I appreciate, even if it cuts me at times. I’ve learned quickly that I’d rather hear it from her in the comfort of Asher’spenthouse than from nasty headlines and internet trolls on Sunday morning.

At last, Asher arrives home, and I’m weirdly relieved to see him. We were both in a rush this morning and didn’t exchange more than a quick greeting and a “have a good day”; before he was out the door. And we didn’t text or call at all today because he had back-to-back meetings to make up for the fact that he spent so much unexpected time on this new “girlfriend” project this week.

“What’s this?” he asks, taking in Matthew, Emily, Rhonda, and the photography backdrop.

“Posing session,” Matthew says without looking at him. “We need Ella to be perfect tomorrow.”

“We also need the two of you to be perfect tomorrow,” Emily adds.

Asher raises his brows, not understanding her meaning.

“Let’s discuss it in private,” I say, walking toward Asher. I grab his hand as I pass and pull him after me into his bedroom.

“What’s going on?” he asks, still confused.

“Emily is concerned that tomorrow on the red carpet we won’t have . . . chemistry like we would if we were an actual couple. She’s worried we’ll look awkward when we’re supposed to look in love because of our lack of intimacy.” My cheeks flush as I say the last part.

“She’s taking her job seriously, I’ll give her that.”

“That’s why Rhonda is here; to help us pose together.”

“She doesn’t know the truth about us though, right?”