Page 63 of The F List


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“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 what in the hell had I had been thinking? It didn’t matter if it was completely innocent. Wesley was an incompetent minor, and I had no proof that I hadn’t taken advantage of the situation. “We played Uno.”

“And basketball,” he reminded me. “And racing.” He beamed at me, and I struggled between smiling back at him and starting to cry—because this was it. I would never be able to visit him again. I’d lose my volunteer access. Never find out if Becky and him continue their courtship. Never get the chance to sneak him in another cupcake.

“Wesley.” Dana leaned forward and put her hands on her knees. “Does Emma ever talk to you about your brother?” She pointed to Cash, and he stood up.

“I’m going to say this in plain English, so you understand it.” Cash pointed a finger in Dana’s direction. “Don’t ask him another question, or I’ll throw every one of your expensive cameras into the pool, and I’ll start with the one built into your phone.”

Wesley tugged at Cash’s shorts, his expression growing alarmed as he looked from him to Dana.

“Okay, then,” Dana said sweetly. “Cash, how do you feel about Emma using your brother to get closer to you?”

“It wasn’t like that.” I stood up, my temper flaring through my panic. “I never once used Wesley. I didn’t ask him about Cash, and we didn’t talk about Cash. I was there to spend time with him. That’s it.”

Cash snorted, then reached up and unclipped the microphone from the back of his shirt. Fishing the cord out, he undid the sound pack and dropped it on the center of the table. “Wesley.” He held out his hand to his younger brother. “Come on. Let’s get you back to the Ranch.”

“Ice cream first,” Wesley said, heaving to his feet. “Dad promised.”

“Okay,” Cash said softly…

This couldn’t be happening. Not here. Not in front of my parents, and his parents, and the crew and cameras. I went to follow him, and he held up a hand, stopping me.

“Stay here unless you want me to file charges against you for inappropriate behavior with a minor.”

“I’m not sure that we shouldn’t be doing that anyw—” His mom rose halfway out of the couch.

“Don’t.” He threatened her with a glare. She fell back into the seat.

I watched him walk out, his hand on Wesley’s shoulder, his head tilted toward him as the teenager spoke. A sob clogged my throat, and I wasn’t sure if it was over losing Cash or his brother.

We’d only had four days together. It wasn’t fair for this to crash already.

* * *

The room fell silent. Jocelyn looked toward me, and I hovered in place, torn between running after him and sinking through the floor. “I was just volunteering,” I said weakly. “That was it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with helping others out.” My mom pushed to her feet and came to stand beside me, briskly rubbing her free hand up and down my arms while she took a sip of wine. Someone had refilled her glass. “You did nothing wrong, Emma.”

“She slept with my son!” Jocelyn sputtered.

“I didn’t sleep with Wesley. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Well, we’ll see about that.” Jocelyn reached for her coat and stood, folding the thick garment over one arm. She smoothed a hand over the top of her perfect blond coif. The gesture was so familiar that my mind stumbled, struggling to pair her threats with my memories of Adel. “I’m sure the security tapes at the Ranch will provide our attorneys with everything they need.”

“Now, wait just a minute,” my dad said sharply. “My family might have one impression from your show, but I’ve read the articles about you. You ditched your disabled son off at a place for strangers to care for him, and now you’re accusing my daughter of improper behavior based on something he said?”

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