Page 33 of Faking the Face Off

My phone buzzes in my pocket, but before I can reach for it, a voice behind me makes me turn.

“Someone’s glowing,” Sutton says as she walks up, her heels clicking against the concrete.

I turn to look at her, trying not to smile. “I’m not glowing.”

“You’re absolutely glowing,” she counters, crossing her arms. “If it’s because of Ollie, remember what I said—be careful. These things have a way of getting complicated.”

“Complicated is both the perfect description and most overused word these days.” I roll my eyes, brushing her off teasingly. “It’s fine, Sutton. I’ve got it under control.”

Before she can respond, a familiar voice interrupts.

“Careful about what?”

I glance over my shoulder to see my dad standing a few feet away. He’s dressed casually, but his posture is stiff, and the pale color on his face reminds me he’s still recovering.

“Nothing,” I say quickly, waving it off. “Sutton is being overly cautious about a work thing.”

Sutton raises an eyebrow but doesn’t argue. Instead, she gives me a quick wave and disappears down the corridor toward her office.

Dad watches her go, then turns back to me with a look that says he’s not buying it.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he says, walking closer.

I lean against the boards, crossing my arms. “I’m not lying.”

He settles onto a bench nearby, his gaze steady. “Alright. Then why are you smiling at your phone every two minutes?”

My phone buzzes in my pocket as if on cue. I pull it out, seeing Ollie’s name flash on the screen.

You really think I’d pull off coordinated outfits? I’m more of a T-shirt-and-jeans kind of guy.

I bite back a grin, typing a quick response:

You’d look amazing in anything, but fine. No matching velvet. What about sleek suits, like Brad and Angelina at Cannes?

Dad sighs, catching my attention. “So it’s Ollie.”

I slip my phone back into my pocket and meet his gaze. “What about it?”

He shrugs, leaning back. “Nothing for you to be defensive about. I didn’t realize you two were more than good friends.”

“We’re…” I shift uncomfortably. “It’s hard to explain.”

He nods slowly, but his brow furrows in a way that always makes me want to hug the man. “Good enough to explain why the bank has barely called this week and why my hospital bill is paid?”

The knot in my stomach tightens. While I know why the bank has stopped calling, I didn’t know about the hospital bill. I’d assumed his insurance would cover things. “Hospital bill?”

“I’ve got coverage through work, but it doesn’t cover everything. I called the hospital to find out what to do and they told me someone called and took care of it.”

I’m speechless. “I have no idea why you don’t have a bill, but I can find out if you’d like?”

“If you can, I’d appreciate it. Nothing worse than having a surprise bill appear six months down the road.”

“I’ll handle it,” I say firmly. “And you are hereby instructed to not worry about it.”

“I’m not worrying,” he says, though his face says otherwise. “But I don’t want you overextending yourself.”

“I’m fine,” I insist, holding his gaze.

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