Faked (Ward Family #2)(6)

"Not a chance."

Lia was as much a product of Adele's brainwashing as Finn was after years at our house hearing about the juvenile delinquent who got in trouble with the law and ran away from home at the age of eighteen.

"And you're saying that they want Lia there to impress some guy?"

Finn was quiet again. "Yeah. I guess he's a big Washington fan. They thought maybe meeting Logan Ward's little sister would ... I don't know, give them some way to introduce themselves."

I rolled my eyes because it sounded like Adele's idea. But if it gave me an in to that ballroom, I just might have a chance. "Makes sense."

"So you want me to," he paused, "just let them think it's me coming, but you'll show up instead?"

"Yup." Imagining Adele's face when I walked in, I couldn't stop my grin. "I swear, I won't even hang out at the table except to eat. They'll hardly see me while they're off pimping out your best friend to the rich old man."

"That isn't what they're doing, Bauer," he said wearily.

"Mmkay."

"I don't know."

"Finn, think about it. This helps everyone. It helps our parents, and it helps the center," I said helpfully as if he didn't know why they were there. "Lia will forgive you because she'll hardly have to deal with me."

"You know she'll flip out when she sees you," Finn said. "Imagine the F words you used in the video coming back in your direction."

"I will prepare myself as much as possible," I answered gravely. "It's not the first time a woman has cussed me out."

"Just ... be nice, okay? This is a big deal for our parents."

Don't screw it up. I heard the message loud and clear, straight from the mouth of the Golden Boy.

"Finnegan, I wouldn't dream of being anything other than a perfect angel."





Chapter Three





Claire





"Absolutely friggin not."

Lia slumped back on her bed. "It's what I would've worn."

I pointed at the dress clutched in her evil hands. "That's half the amount of fabric I want covering my body."

My sister sat back up, just as her eye roll completed a full rotation. "It's floor-length."

Frantically, my hand waved somewhere in the vicinity of my sternum. "Yes, and there's a slit the size of Minnesota and a V that makes my belly button feel preemptively cold."

Lia grinned. "I know. You'll look smokin’. Maybe the guy who they want money from has a thing for twentysomething brunettes."

Oh, she was so, so unbelievably funny.

"I'm kidding." She sighed since I was giving her my best Mt. Rushmore impression.

"Well, let's not kid about sexualizing a philanthropic financial exchange because, current social climate aside, that's a horrible, prostitute-y idea, and I wouldn't go for it in a million years."

Lia nodded seriously. "Noted. Neither would I."

I looked back at the dress. The thought of wearing that in public—and not just the kind of public where other people with eyes could see me, but with Finn in public—made my skin feel two sizes too small for my body. Like it was shrink-wrapping my skeleton to protect me from the pretty pale-yellow satin. Couldn't I just go to the black-tie event in my jeans and Chucks? My faded Washington Wolves long-sleeve tee with my last name on the back?

Okay, fine, it was on there from Logan's playing days, but it was still my name too.

Lia, though physically more athletic than I was (how was that for some twin bullshit?), dressed like a well-groomed human being more often than I did. Her wardrobe contained things like beautiful gowns, in case we had to attend a charity event like the one in ... oh, four hours, I realized miserably.

For the past few days, my sister has spent time drilling me on things that she would know. As if I didn't already have all facets of Finn's life memorized.

His favorite food was grilled ham and cheese and tomato soup even though she regularly hassled him for eating like a six-year-old.

His favorite athlete was Tiger Woods—rain, shine, infidelity … whatever. In Finn's mind, his resilience and drive overcame any personal issues.

She even quizzed me on silly things that would literally never possibly come up around a civilized dinner table. Like Finn's most embarrassing moment, how on the day he lost his virginity to Cassie McMahon at the age of seventeen, he ripped the condom with his bare hands taking it out of the package.

Something I absolutely didn't know before and could've lived the rest of my life without knowing because I remembered Cassie McMahon and her long, gorgeous blond hair. Her curvy, hourglass figure and luscious lips. If that was Finn's type, I was freaking screwed.

I glanced down at my body, which I considered on the happy side of average in all things.

Average height, I didn't tower over anyone, except maybe our eight-year-old nephew, Emmett.

Fairly average brown hair, if you asked me, though I always felt like Lia's managed to look glossier than mine.

Basic blue eyes.

A nose, some lips, and some cheekbones that were maybe a bit better than average, gifted to us from Brooke.