Page 28 of Free to Believe
She stills. “You think I’m a model,” she says carefully.
“I know I’ve seen your face before, I just can’t figure out where,” I admit.
She chuckles. “I’m not a model. I don’t have the figure for it.”
Without looking up from what I’m doing, I mutter under my breath, “Your figure’s just fine.” It’s too much to hope she hasn’t heard me when her sharp inhale of breath tells me she has.
Divine intervention saves me. The front door flies open and Jenna comes bursting back in. “Oh my, God. Em! It’s you! Seriously? Dani didn’t tell meyouwere coming to stay!”
Emily’s exhaustion shows briefly on her delicate face. By the time Jenna reaches her, there’s a different person in front of me. Gone is the cold, argumentative woman who confronted me on the deck and on the beach. Her exhaustion and pain are hidden behind a dazzling smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Even as I use cotton balls to rub hydrogen peroxide into her wound, she doesn’t let Jenna see her pain. No, instead she’s rapidly answering questions after question while I quickly bandage her leg.
It isn’t until I’m cleaning up, that I catch a few words like “pattern,” “lace,” and “show.” Frustrated with the bunch of non-answers I’ve received up until now, I fold my arms across my chest and interrupt their conversation. “What is it you do, exactly, Emily?”
It’s Jenna who answers. Laughing, she points at Em and says, “I can’t believe you don’t recognize her from the pictures with Dani when they did the article of Best Dressed People inPeoplemagazine. The eggplant dress? That was Em’s design. She’s Amaryllis Designs!” Jenna’s practically bouncing as she announces that information.
Em just shrugs.
Suddenly it hits me like a two-by-four. The spread inPeoplewas huge. It was an exposé on Danielle’s life as a high-in-demand model, the girlfriend of country’s hottest superstar, and their efforts to bring a spotlight to children’s cancer research—something they’ve become passionate about since Brendan’s nephew was diagnosed with a very rare form of leukemia. As my mind flips back through the article, I remember a sidebar where Dani was dressed for a red-carpet event in a purple-colored gown. There was an Instagram photo of her getting ready with her stylist. I didn’t pay much attention then. But if memory—and my daughter’s enthusiasm—is correct, that woman just got finished being bandaged on my kitchen counter.
Mentally, I groan. The woman who I’ve done nothing but antagonize is Emily Freeman. Dani talks about her incessantly. Not only is she the woman Dani hopes to convince to make all of her future gowns, she’s the sister of the woman who competed with Brendan onCaketastic, a Food Network show he went on to raise awareness for his nephew’s condition. Emily’s also recently become an obsession of my daughter’s as she’s blathered on about fashion in an attempt to convince me she’s done her research for a career in design.
I give her outfit a once-over. I know nothing about women’s clothes, but Emily—even disheveled from her biking disaster today—still looks incredibly put together with a loose see-through T-shirt, a tight camisole, and very short flowered shorts. Not to mention flats that I know damn well by their turquoise sole cost more than my first guitar.
While I’m mentally kicking myself in the ass, I don’t let that show. Instead I drawl, “If you’d been wearing something more stylish like cowboy boots with that outfit, we could have avoided this whole disaster.”
Perversely enjoying as the practiced smile falls from her face, Emily hisses, “Too bad they’re coming with my Rover in a few days. Then we could have avoided this mess altogether.”
A Rover? Jesus Christ. Jenna looks delighted with Emily’s news whereas I’m groaning. Here I’ve been talking to Jenna that most designers don’t make much money, and my uninvited guest drives a car that probably equals my salary as a teacher for next year.
Great. Just great.
16
Emily
“Are you all right?” Ali demands as I FaceTime my family from the back deck after I indulged in a bubble bath when I got back to my apartment. Mugsy’s head is in my lap. I absentmindedly stroke his ears as I recall the events of the day.
Needless to say, I didn’t stay for dinner over at the main house after another battle with Jacob Madison. Jenna was upset, and I hated leaving her that way. I explained I really wasn’t up to it because of my leg, but the reality was I just couldn’t be around her father for another minute.
I really don’t want to shatter Jenna’s illusions about her father. He might look like something out of my deepest fantasies and have a voice that makes my toes curl, but damn if he doesn’t drive me insane every time he opens his mouth.
It’s too bad when he opens it, regardless if it’s to say something insulting, the sound alone makes my stomach quiver.
“I’m as fine as I can be, Ali.” I stretch a bit while the iPad propped up on the table shows my family shoving each other to try to get in front of the screen at the main house at the farm. “I’m sore and my leg hurts.” I frown down at it. Ali yelled at me earlier for not putting ice on it sooner. The cold is brutal, but I know the throbbing feeling right now will help me ultimately heal faster.
Cassidy pipes in. “I’d say get a glass of wine and forget about the day, but I’m not sure if that would help.”
“We’ll call Jason in a few to make sure it won’t start the bleeding again,” Phil yells from where he’s been relegated to the back so my sisters can see.
I sigh in exasperation. “If he’s working, don’t bother him. I don’t think my leg’s going to fall off overnight. Dani’s cousin had a look at it.”
There’s silence on their end of the line. “Really?” Corinna’s drawl is the most pronounced of all of ours. Its honeyed sound can either be soothing or grating. Right now, it’s like fingernails running down a chalkboard.
“Jacob is a royal pain in the ass with a daughter who reminds me of all of you when you were sixteen.” Raucous laughter bursts out from several members of my family. “He grates on my last nerve.” Not a lie. Even though I have an uncontrollable urge to sketch him. “I don’t understand quite how Dani doesn’t murder him, Cori. I think Keene would have welcomed me more graciously.”
Ali’s wiping tears from her cheeks. “That says a lot.”
Holly grins. “I bet you went all haughty royal on him, didn’t you?”
