Page 106 of Gilt

The only thing that might annoy Sabine more than knowing that she’s helped me is a reminder that I’ve landed Jameson West. Now that I’ve put that pot on to boil, I hurry away.

Jameson is nowhere to be seen, which sucks considering I’m stuck in the high school reunion from hell: ex-boyfriend, guy I slept with to get back at ex-boyfriend, ex-boyfriend’s girlfriend, the first female anti-christ, and the hot guy planning to screw over one of his best friends for fame. I guess Friday nights are alright for fighting.

I duck out onto the back patio. Leave it to the Wests to eschew the traditional barbecue grill and picnic table and replace it with a full grotto, an outdoor gourmet kitchen, and not one, not two, but three guest houses on the far side of the pool’s stone waterfall.

“Subtle,” I mutter to myself.

A door opens behind me, but when I glance over my shoulder, my heart sinks. It isn’t Jameson.

“Care to go for a swim?” Levi flashes me his signature smile.

“I don’t have a suit.”

He leans against a stone column and chuckles. “I’ve never found that to be a problem.”

“I’m guessing you don’t find many things to be a problem,” I say to him. Like your conscience, for instance.

He blinks, looking a bit confused, then shrugs. “Do you mind if I swim?”

“Go right ahead, but I’m not jumping in if you start to drown.”

Levi clutches his chest. “You wound me. What did I do to offend you so terribly, Emma...?” He pauses, trying to remember my last name.

“Southerly,” I offer it to him, for reasons I can’t even fathom. It’s that goddamn charismatic grin of his.

He strips his t-shirt over his head, but before he can take off his pants, I think better of the situation. “Actually, I do care if you swim.”

His fingers freeze on the button of his shorts. “I didn’t take you for being a shy one.”

“I’m not,” I reassure him. “But I do have a shred of decency.”

“I can keep my shorts on,” he says, but I shake my head.

“That’s not what this is about, Levi. When are you going to tell Jameson the truth?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” So that’s how he’s going to play it.

“You’re going to have to lie better than that if you’re going to land an award for playing him in ‘Wild West.’” I make sure to put the title in air quotes.

“How do you know about that?” he demands.

“I’m guessing Jameson didn’t fill you in on who my stepfather is.”

When he continues his impression of total vacancy, I sigh and continue. “Hans Von Essen. Ring a bell?”

“Holy shit. I had no clue.”

“Yeah.” I put a hand up to stop him. “I guessed that from the fact you were stupid enough to come here.”

“Why would it be stupid to visit an old friend?” There’s definitely no Academy Award in his future. Maybe he finds it easier to act on screen than he does to lie to someone’s face. Either way, he’s charismatic, but he’s not convincing.

“I find being lied to pretty insulting,” I inform him.

“I’m not lying to you. I just came to catch up, study his mannerisms, and find out how his family is doing,” he continues, and I see now that he’s lying to himself. I suppose you’d have to, if you planned to betray a friend so deeply. “So what if I want to get him just right? Whoever plays Jameson should be emotionally true.”

“Save it,” I cut him off. “Have you told Jameson that you plan on playing him in this movie?”

“I’m going to,” he hedges, but it’s a safe bet that he’s not. “You haven’t told him, have you?”