of those in awhile.”
Let’s pause for a moment. This is important.
Can you see his face? Look closely or you’ll miss it.
For just a second, there’s a flash of surprise. A touch of
anger . . . maybe hurt. But then he catches himself, and his expres-Twisted_1P.indd 58
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t w i s t E d
59
sion smooths back out to neutral. I missed that look the first time around. You should remember it. It’ll make a lot more sense in
about ten hours.
Drew’s voice is flat. Like a detective trying to trip up a perpe-
trator. “You just saw Delores last night.”
My stomach gurgles like Pop Rocks in soda. “That was differ-
ent—everyone was there. Tonight it’ll just be the two of us. We’ll grab a few drinks, eat some fattening appetizers, and then I’ll come home.”
Drew stands, his movements hurried, tense. “Fine, Kate. Do
whatever the fuck you want.”
he tries to walk past me, but I grab onto his belt. “hey. Don’t
be like that. We can go out to dinner tomorrow night. Don’t be
mad.”
he lets me pull him closer, but he doesn’t say anything. I give
him a flirty smile. “Come on, Drew. Let’s do lunch. And then
afterward, you can do me.”
I rub my hand up his chest, trying to soften him up.
But he doesn’t give. “I can’t. I have some work to finish. I’ll talk to you later. ”
he kisses my forehead, and his lips seem to linger a moment
longer than normal. Then he pulls back and walks away.
In New York City, there’s one thing you can depend on. Expect. It’s not the mail, or the kindness of your fellow man.
It’s rush-hour traffic. Never fails. It’s what I’m sitting in right now.
Twisted_1P.indd 59
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60
E m m a c h a s E
Bumper to bumper.
I tried calling Delores three times to fill her in on my covert
operation, but she didn’t answer. Cell phones aren’t allowed in the lab. I also haven’t seen Drew since he walked out of my office, and that’s a good thing. I really don’t want to talk to him until I know what I’m dealing with.
When you’re alone in a practically unmoving vehicle, there’s
really not much to do.
Except think.
Can you guess what I’m thinking about? Even the strongest
dam is going to crack eventually.
Scarlett O’hara has left the building.
Did you ever hear the story about Delores’s father? It’s a
doozy.
When we were young, Amelia told Delores that her daddy just
couldn’t live with them. She kept it simple—kind. But when she
was older, Delores got the full story.
Amelia grew up in California. Can’t you just picture it? Amelia
the surfer chick—young and tan, lean and laid back.
When she was seventeen, she met a guy at the Santa Mon-
ica Pier—dark hair, chiseled arms, and eyes the color of jade. his name was Joey Martino. They had an instant “connection,” and
like Juliet before her, Amelia fell fast and hard.
Then it came time for Joey to move on, and he asked Amelia
to come with him. her mother told her if she walked out the door,
she wouldn’t be allowed to walk back in.
Ever.
Amelia hugged her little sister good-bye and hopped on the
back of Joey’s harley. About six weeks later, they were passing
through Greenville, Ohio.
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61
And Amelia realized she was pregnant.
Joey took the news well, and Amelia was thrilled. Now they’d
be a real family.
But the next morning, all she woke up next to was a note. It
read:
It was fun.
Sorry.
Amelia never saw him again.
Some kids need to get burned a few times before they
stop playing with matches. But Amelia was never that kind
of kid. One lesson was all she needed. From then on, she
only dated a certain type of man—humble, simple—not
smooth or flashy or arrogant. Guys who were nothing like
Joey.
Who were nothing like Drew.
It’s why she doesn’t like him.
No—that’s not quite right. It’s why Amelia doesn’t trust
him.
She took me aside that
Let’s pause for a moment. This is important.
Can you see his face? Look closely or you’ll miss it.
For just a second, there’s a flash of surprise. A touch of
anger . . . maybe hurt. But then he catches himself, and his expres-Twisted_1P.indd 58
11/18/13 11:47 AM
t w i s t E d
59
sion smooths back out to neutral. I missed that look the first time around. You should remember it. It’ll make a lot more sense in
about ten hours.
Drew’s voice is flat. Like a detective trying to trip up a perpe-
trator. “You just saw Delores last night.”
My stomach gurgles like Pop Rocks in soda. “That was differ-
ent—everyone was there. Tonight it’ll just be the two of us. We’ll grab a few drinks, eat some fattening appetizers, and then I’ll come home.”
Drew stands, his movements hurried, tense. “Fine, Kate. Do
whatever the fuck you want.”
he tries to walk past me, but I grab onto his belt. “hey. Don’t
be like that. We can go out to dinner tomorrow night. Don’t be
mad.”
he lets me pull him closer, but he doesn’t say anything. I give
him a flirty smile. “Come on, Drew. Let’s do lunch. And then
afterward, you can do me.”
I rub my hand up his chest, trying to soften him up.
But he doesn’t give. “I can’t. I have some work to finish. I’ll talk to you later. ”
he kisses my forehead, and his lips seem to linger a moment
longer than normal. Then he pulls back and walks away.
In New York City, there’s one thing you can depend on. Expect. It’s not the mail, or the kindness of your fellow man.
It’s rush-hour traffic. Never fails. It’s what I’m sitting in right now.
Twisted_1P.indd 59
11/18/13 11:47 AM
60
E m m a c h a s E
Bumper to bumper.
I tried calling Delores three times to fill her in on my covert
operation, but she didn’t answer. Cell phones aren’t allowed in the lab. I also haven’t seen Drew since he walked out of my office, and that’s a good thing. I really don’t want to talk to him until I know what I’m dealing with.
When you’re alone in a practically unmoving vehicle, there’s
really not much to do.
Except think.
Can you guess what I’m thinking about? Even the strongest
dam is going to crack eventually.
Scarlett O’hara has left the building.
Did you ever hear the story about Delores’s father? It’s a
doozy.
When we were young, Amelia told Delores that her daddy just
couldn’t live with them. She kept it simple—kind. But when she
was older, Delores got the full story.
Amelia grew up in California. Can’t you just picture it? Amelia
the surfer chick—young and tan, lean and laid back.
When she was seventeen, she met a guy at the Santa Mon-
ica Pier—dark hair, chiseled arms, and eyes the color of jade. his name was Joey Martino. They had an instant “connection,” and
like Juliet before her, Amelia fell fast and hard.
Then it came time for Joey to move on, and he asked Amelia
to come with him. her mother told her if she walked out the door,
she wouldn’t be allowed to walk back in.
Ever.
Amelia hugged her little sister good-bye and hopped on the
back of Joey’s harley. About six weeks later, they were passing
through Greenville, Ohio.
Twisted_1P.indd 60
11/18/13 11:47 AM
t w i s t E d
61
And Amelia realized she was pregnant.
Joey took the news well, and Amelia was thrilled. Now they’d
be a real family.
But the next morning, all she woke up next to was a note. It
read:
It was fun.
Sorry.
Amelia never saw him again.
Some kids need to get burned a few times before they
stop playing with matches. But Amelia was never that kind
of kid. One lesson was all she needed. From then on, she
only dated a certain type of man—humble, simple—not
smooth or flashy or arrogant. Guys who were nothing like
Joey.
Who were nothing like Drew.
It’s why she doesn’t like him.
No—that’s not quite right. It’s why Amelia doesn’t trust
him.
She took me aside that
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