“I’m positive you have full rights to anything we ever film,” Connor continues, “which gave you permission to sell the sex tape to a porn site without our signed consent. I don’t have the contract in front of me, but I’m sure there’s something misleading about the part where you weren’t allowed to film us in the bedrooms.”
“I read that line correctly. I know it,” Rose says, pointing at the ground.
Scott is still partially doubled-over from Connor’s two hits. “It said that we couldn’t air anything from the bedrooms on television. We never did. The contract said nothing about filming. And any of the footage from the bedrooms and the bathroom can be used for movies and web content. Just not network TV.”
The bathroom. I glance at Lily while she stares at her knees, pale and cold to the touch. I rub her back and rest my chin on her head, holding her closer to my chest. She wore a bathing suit in the shower for six months. She was that uncomfortable. One silver lining.
Scott adds, “Lily was almost always in her room.” He pauses. “We weren’t able to install any cameras to catch anything.”
I shut my eyes, both of our shoulders dropping with the release of this immeasurable weight. Thank God. I suck down the sadness that wells with a rough inhale and kiss Lily outside her lips. She holds my face quickly and kisses me for real, a deep one that grips me.
“It’s illegal to film minors in pornographic situations,” Connor says.
Both Lily and I break apart at that. Connor is talking about Daisy. Did she…did she really screw someone in her bedroom? A series of emotions pulls my face in a grimace. The most lasting one is shock.
Daisy blanches, and she actually meets my eyes, over everyone else. Maybe too mortified to look at Ryke. I nod at her like it’s okay.
She shakes her head like it’s not.
Lily crawls over my lap to sit beside her sister again, and she wraps her thin arms around Daisy’s neck.
“We didn’t,” Scott replies. “All that footage was destroyed.”
There was actual footage of Daisy…in her bedroom with another guy? She must have been doing things with Julian, but not it. I can’t even say the word in context with her. I rub the back of my neck.
“You’re disgusting!” Rose shouts with another scream attached.
I glance over my shoulder to see Ryke on his feet, restraining Rose from the other two guys by grabbing her shoulders.
My head just rattles as Scott keeps talking. As he spills all the things he planted with production.
“Lily and Lo in the bathroom with the slurping audio?” Connor asks.
“Edited,” Scott says. “We did it in advance and uploaded it on the camera for you to find.” At least everyone will believe us now.
“The alcohol in Lo’s closet?”
“Planted. Savannah and Ben put it there when Lily was taking a nap. They were supposed to install a camera too, but they ran out of time.”
How many bullets did we actually dodge this time around?
I can’t get off the couch to help them or to shout another expletive. Ryke has said them all anyway. I’ve known what everyone is just finding out. In fact, I’ve known for a while that production was behind all of this shit. I guess they couldn’t one-hundred percent believe in that truth because they had other options to consider. Like us. Lily and I—we could have lied to them.
“I’m going to let Ryke go if you don’t get out of this house,” I hear Connor tell Scott. “And his fists are going to hurt a hell of a lot more than mine. So take what’s on your back and leave.”
Not long after, the door slams shut.
I can only hope that’s the last cancer in our lives, but my dad would tell me that I’m being a little fucking fool. For believing in that impossibility. When you have money like we do, there will always be people ready to bury you for a payout.
It’s how the world turns.
{ 37 }
0 years : 10 months
June
LILY CALLOWAY
Connor never once hesitated, not even for a moment did he second guess his plan, which is on a grand, massive scale. Even with the sex tape and a lawsuit being flung in Scott’s face, Connor said, “There is no better time than today.”
Both Lo and I strongly disagreed. Rose was going to claw his face the minute we did the wedding switcheroo.
I think my doubt vanished about the same time I stepped into the “Chateau de Fontainebleau”—a French palace fit for a queen.
Every single detail resembles my older sister. The simple pale pink bridesmaids gowns, like ballet dresses. The hundreds of attendees, showering her with compliments. The lavish antiquity of it all. Diamonds, roses, red velvet cake and classical music.