Page 16 of Faking the Face Off

Her words hit like a punch to the gut, and for a second, I just stare, trying to catch my breath. Then, before I even realize I’m moving, I’m closing the distance between us and wrapping my arms around her so I can pull her close.

“Anna,” I say softly, rubbing her back. “Tell me what happened.”

Anna clings to me for a moment, her fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt like it’s the only thing keeping her upright. Then, as if realizing where she is, she pulls back slightly, her face still pale, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Can we sit?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, of course.” I glance toward the kitchen where Dixon sits, still parked at the table gripping his pint of ice cream.

He looks up, eyes flicking between us as if he senses something. Without me needing to say a word, he hops up and puts the carton back in the freezer before grabbing his keys from the coffee table.

“I forgot I need to…head out,” he says, standing and stretching with a casualness that feels deliberately forced. “Catch you later, man. Anna, good to see you.”

She nods, but I can tell she barely registers his presence as he makes his way out the door, closing it quietly behind him.

Once Dixon’s gone, I guide Anna to the couch, sitting beside her as she takes a deep breath and presses her hands to her cheeks, as if trying to hold herself together.

“It wasn’t a heart attack,” she says finally, her words spilling out in a rush. “At least, not a real one. It was a panic attack, soits symptoms mimicked a heart attack, but it scared us all half to death.”

“Where was he?”

“Work. One of the delivery guys found him and called 911. The paramedics knew it was a panic attack but thought it was best to take him to the hospital so he could be observed overnight.”

“All going well, will he go home soon?” When she nods, I exhale slowly, relief mixing with concern. “Okay. That’s…not great, but better than the alternative. What brought it on?”

Her face crumples, and for a moment, I think she might start crying again, but she holds it together.

“He got scammed, Ollie,” she says, her voice cracking. “Some Ponzi scheme. He lost almost everything. His savings, his retirement—gone. He didn’t tell anyone what was happening, and it…broke him.”

I blink, the weight of her words sinking in. “I’m so sorry.”

She shakes her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “Sorry doesn’t fix it. I don’t know how to fix it.”

I reach out, covering her hands with mine. “You’re not alone in this. I’m here, okay? Whatever you need, whatever I can do, I’m in.”

Her eyes meet mine, wide and vulnerable, and for the first time since she walked through the door, there’s a flicker of something else—gratitude, maybe even hope.

Anna slowly pulls her hands back, sitting up a little straighter, like she’s gearing herself up for something. That flicker of hope hardens into resolve, and she takes a deep breath.

“There…might be one way I can put a Band-Aid on this. At least enough to give my dad some breathing room.” She fiddles with the edge of her sleeve, avoiding my gaze.

“Okay,” I say slowly, leaning forward. “What’s the plan?”

She hesitates, chewing on her bottom lip. “You’re not going to like it.”

“Try me.”

Anna looks up, her eyes scanning my face like she’s gauging how much of this I can handle. “Sutton came to me with an offer. From the Renegades. Okay, more specifically, itkind ofcame via Jimmy and the team publicist––in a roundabout way.”

“That’s weird.”

“Oh you bet it is,” she says. “And it gets weirder. They want me to…be your fake girlfriend.”

I blink, unsure if I heard her right. “Mywhat?”

“They think it’ll help boost your profile. Jimmy especially. Apparently, your tough guy image isn’t playing well with the press, and they need you to step up, be more…” She waves her hand in the air, searching for the word.

“Marketable?” I offer, my voice dripping with disbelief.

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