Page 68 of Just a Little White Lie

She shakes her head. “You’d think Luke would have told me.”

“Really?” I can’t help a snicker.

She mirrors my sound and throws in a sunny grin. “Good point.”

My best friend is not the gossipy“Did you know?”kind.

“He specializes in boring, and you being onDancing with the Starsis anything but boring.” She bulges her eyes, and then her cute nose wrinkles when she grins again. “I bet you were amazing.”

She wiggles her eyebrows, and I force a laugh, but it’s a dry, wooden sound. “I never won.”

“How many seasons were you on?”

“Three.”

“Wow. Did you get to dance with anyone super cool? Anyone I know?”

I list a few Australian celebrities, but she hasn’t heard of any of them. It makes sense, I guess. They were a news reporter, an athlete, and a singer. Not really world famous, just known in Australia.

I can’t tell her how much of a relief it is to have her completely clueless over this whole thing. Some of those headlines were ugly.

“So, what happened, then? What made you come back here?”

My entire body slumps, and she reaches for my hand. Her little fingers slip into my palm, and all I can do is stare at our connection. After a beat too long, she gives me an awkward smile and goes to pull her hand away, so I quickly curl my long fingers over hers and keep her there. I can’t explain it, but her hand feels like it belongs in mine. This inexplicable warmth seems to flow between us. A soft current that both tingles and entices. There’s no letting go now, and it gives me the courage to start talking.

“Yolanda Baker. She was a country singer, used to be a big deal about twenty years ago and obviously wanted to revive her name. She somehow got on the show, and man, she wasdeterminedto win.” I work my jaw to the side. “She thought she was the best, and…” I close my eyes, my laughter raspy and harsh. “She was okay, I guess. Actually, she was pretty good, but last year was a strong competition, and Sasha—one of the other dancers—was paired with a footie player who was surprisingly awesome. They were dominating, and they deserved to be, but Yolanda was not happy about that.” I pause, a wave of something sharp and spiky hurtling through me.

Lauren squeezes my hand. “Do you feel like you failed her?”

I shake my head, then have to shrug. “I mean, maybe, but you can only work with the talent you’ve got, you know? And she wasn’t good enough. So, she…” I lick my bottom lip. The bitter resentment at having my dream snatched away from me hurts more than I can express. It’s hard to get the words out, but I manage to mutter, “She started bribing the judges.”

Lauren gasps. “You’re kidding me.”

“It all came out the night before finals, and she threw me right under the bus, claimed I was involved, that it was my idea. It was a really big scandal. I’m still surprised you didn’t know. At the time, I felt like the entire planet knew about it.”

She shakes her head, murmuring to herself, “I should have googled you.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head and puts on a smile. “I’ve never really been a hugefollow the newstype of person. I was probably too busy partying it up with my friends to pay any attention to celebrity gossip from Australia.”

I sniff, grateful for this fact. “My name was cleared, but the producers felt I’d been tainted, and they didn’t want to risk the show’s reputation, so… they kicked me off.”

Her face morphs into an indignant scowl. “What? That’s not fair. You didn’t do anything wrong!”

“They paid me for the season, but…” I shake my head. “I mean, I suppose I get it. They have a brand to maintain, and even though they stated I was innocent, they felt it prudent that I resign. The media had been… really harsh.”

“So, they kicked you off but then forced you to make it look as though it was your choice?” The words spit out of her—hot and angry.

I cringe, scratching my forehead and letting go of her hand. I love that she’s getting angry on my behalf, but that doesn’t stop the sting of this.

Lauren curls her legs up, wrapping her arms around her knees and blinking at me. She looks on the verge of tears, and my stomach pinches.

“Please, don’t—” I whisper, but she interrupts me before I can finish.

“If doing this with me is too hard, I understand.”

How sweet is that?

---