The Beauty Beneath

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The Beauty Beneath Page 12

by DC Renee


  “But I’m ugly inside,” I whispered, tears threatening to make their way down my face.

  “You’re anything but,” my mom said as she pulled me into a hug. “And it’s about time you realized that,” she said against my hair. “Don’t fight it, baby girl. Whatever has been happening this past month, let it happen.”

  “I don’t know how. I’ve been living like this for half my life.”

  “You’re already doing it. And it’s because of this guy, isn’t it?” she asked with a knowing smile as she pulled away.

  “We’re just friends,” I told her.

  “I don’t care if he’s the pope and you’re Jewish. Ever since he’s come into your life, you’ve been glowing.”

  “I guess it’s nice to have someone who isn’t obligated to care about me actually care about me,” I admitted.

  “If you opened yourself up, Em, you’d have a million people caring about you. How could they not?”

  “You have to say that. You’re my mom,” I said with a forced laugh.

  “As your mom, I have to tell you the truth. If I don’t, who will?”

  “Carter is pretty good at telling me the truth,” I mumbled.

  “I like this Carter guy. He’s good for you.” She smiled.

  “He’s arrogant and pushy, and he thinks he’s God gift to women.”

  “You like him,” she stated.

  “Of course, I like him, or I wouldn’t be friends with him.” I had the urge to roll my eyes.

  “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that,” she teased.

  “Mom.” I said her name with annoyance, and this time, I did roll my eyes. “Aside from the fact that no matter what you or Carter say, I can’t change my ways overnight, which means no romantic connections for me. You’d think you’d be grateful I have a couple of friends,” I said with an added, “Sheesh,” at the end. “Aside from that, Carter is in no way interested in me.”

  “He spends an awful lot of time with a girl he’s not interested in.”

  “He considers me one of the guys.”

  “Then show him you’re not.”

  “I don’t want to. I just want to be one of his friends, nothing more.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “I already said I don’t want any relationship stuff,” I told her.

  “Okay, fine, put that aside. Let’s say you did. Why not him?”

  “He’s not attracted to me.”

  “He would be if he saw the real you,” she retorted.

  “I don’t want someone who’s shallow,” I tossed back.

  “Fine, fine,” she said as she held up her hands defensively. “But he’d have to be really blind not to see what’s underneath this getup, Em. So humor me and say he’s attracted to you.”

  “He’s not.”

  “I said humor me. Now, why not him?”

  “The list is too long,” I responded.

  “Give me a few reasons then,” she said as she leaned against the counter and crossed her arms.

  “He shows up unannounced all the time. He texts me over and over if I don’t respond immediately. He tricks me into getting his way constantly. He has no filter sometimes, and honesty isn’t always the best policy. He is too good looking for his own good, and he knows it. No guy that does is good news. He forced his way into my life. He is a major player. Oh, and did I mention that he’s not attracted to me?” I added.

  “Oh, what a horrible list,” my mom said sarcastically. “Contacting you too much and wanting to spend time with you. And he’s good looking too, what a crime. I see what you mean. The guy is trouble. You should stay far, far away from him,” she teased.

  “He’s needy!” I tossed back.

  “A guy who wants your attention. Shame on him.”

  “He treats me the same way he treats his friends,” I responded, frustrated with the one-eighty direction this talk had turned.

  “Oh, heaven forbid he trusts you the same way he trusts his closest pals. Oh, the horror.”

  “You’re not funny, Mom.”

  “And you’re not logical, daughter,” she said straight-faced.

  “I see what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work. I’m not changing myself for anyone. And Carter doesn’t want me. Not that I want him.” I felt the need to add that last sentence, but maybe more for my benefit than my mom’s.

  “It doesn’t sound like he wants you to change from the way he is with you.”

  “He wanted me to change yesterday!” I said a little too loudly.

  “He what?” my mom screeched this time, her voice turning to anger. I replayed the conversation we had the night before, and I could see my mom’s face softening with each detail.

  “He truly cares about you, Em,” she said softly after I was done. “Don’t let him get away. You’ll regret it.”

  “I don’t know that I have a choice,” I responded. Once our deals were over, I wasn’t sure where we would stand. After my cousin’s wedding, would he still want to be my friend?

  “You always have a choice. Even when it seems like the universe has made the choices for us, we still have a say. So let the universe hear your voice.”

  “We’ll see,” I told her. “We’ll see,” I repeated as I hugged her. “Now, I really have to get to work, and so do you. Love you,” I said as I held on to her.

  “Love you too, baby girl.”

  Twenty Two

  Carter

  “So I take it no makeover,” Beth said when I stopped by after work one day. We had been talking about Emerson for almost the entire twenty minutes I had been there. I wasn’t even sure how the conversation veered to her, but we went through how witty she was, how interesting her job was, and how great her smile was. Okay, maybe those were all the things I had brought up.

  “Yeah, that didn’t fly over very well,” I admitted.

  “I told you it was a bad idea.”

  “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it was bad to say, ‘I told you so?’”

  “Hmm, let me think. Nope. I told you so,” she teased.

  “I was just trying to help,” I countered.

  “I know, C, and I’m sure Em does too. Otherwise, I doubt you’d be in one piece right now. If someone pretty much called me ugly, I’d have chopped their head off.”

  “Easy there, tiger,” I joked.

  “So why did you think she needed a makeover in the first place?” Beth asked.

  “I don’t really. I mean I know what my initial reaction was to her. I thought she was on the opposite spectrum from pretty, but now … I don’t see the things that turned me off in the first place. I just see Emerson. So it wasn’t so much about me thinking she needed a makeover but rather wanting her to feel good about herself.”

  “And you thought telling her that she needed to change how she looked would do the trick?” she asked with raised eyebrows.

  “I thought making her happier with her outer appearance would have her feeling better inside.”

  “Maybe she’s happy with how she looks.”

  “I guess so. It doesn’t matter anyway. She’s great just the way she is.”

  “Why’d you think she needed to feel better about herself?”

  “I can’t go into much detail,” I warned Beth, but I wanted her to understand the situation a little more. “Em trusted me, and I don’t want to break that trust by giving you a story that isn’t mine to tell.”

  “But I’m your sister,” Beth whined.

  “And I’m Em’s friend.”

  “Okay, just testing you.” She smiled wide. “Wanted to make sure you were still loyal under pressure.”

  “Oookay.” I rolled my eyes. “Anyway,” I continued, “she opened up to me, exposed some of her life and some of her past that explains why she’s so closed off to people.”

  “I knew there had to be a reason,” Beth interjected.

  “Yeah, well, there is, and she blames herself for something she had no control over.” I tried to be specific and vague at the
same time. “And when she was telling me all this, sharing a part of herself, Beth, I almost … I almost did the same. I almost told her about …” I trailed off, not able to even finish my sentence, but by the wide eyes staring back at me, I knew Beth understood exactly what I meant.

  “Look, I’m all about honesty in any relationship and there being a give and take,” she said, “but sometimes you can keep things about yourself in the past. She shared with you, but that doesn’t necessarily mean you have to share with her. Especially if you’re just friends. Nothing serious, right?”

  “Right,” I said, but my voice wavered. “But she trusted me with her past, so shouldn’t I have told her mine?”

  “You’re not really dating, are you?” she asked the question even though we both knew the answer.

  “No, just part of the bet.”

  “That’s something you should probably share with a girlfriend, with someone you want to get serious with, but if you two aren’t together …” she trailed off.

  “It still doesn’t feel right. Like I don’t trust her,” I responded.

  “That’s because you like her.” Beth smirked.

  “Moot point.”

  “No, I mean you really like her. Would you think twice about telling Dan? Erick? What about Lance?”

  “They already know,” I told her. We had been friends since grade school. They knew everything about me.

  “Let’s say they didn’t. Would you care to tell them?”

  “That’s different.” Guys didn’t share deep, dark secrets, but I knew girls did.

  “Exactly,” she said and even pointed a finger at me.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I asked.

  “You don’t want to be in a relationship with Em where you only take and don’t give.”

  “We’re not in a relationship,” I told her.

  “A friendship is a relationship,” she said as if she was saying, “duh.”

  “That’s not what you meant,” I tossed back.

  “Doesn’t matter what I mean. You’re taking me off track. You like her, C. I don’t mean in the way I like her. Because let’s face it, she’s pretty kickass.”

  “Kickass?” I laughed. “Does anyone still use that expression?”

  “Didn’t I just use it?” she asked with a smile. “The point is that you care about her. I mean really, truly care about her.”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Stop being dense and listen to me. I know what I’m talking about.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “About you and Emerson being the real deal and not some fake bet.”

  “There is no me and Emerson.”

  “But you want there to be.”

  “How the hell did we even get on this topic?” I asked, somewhat frustrated.

  “You didn’t deny it,” she said before adding, “We got on this topic because from the minute you walked through my door, you haven’t shut up about her. Not that it’s a bad thing, but guys who don’t have feelings for a girl don’t spend the entire time talking about them. And then add on the fact that you actually want to be vulnerable around her. Yeah, big bro. You like this girl. Now whether you realize it or not, and whether you want to admit it to yourself, that’s on you. But I know what I see, and what I see is a guy who has it bad for the girl he didn’t think he’d ever like.”

  “That’s impossible,” I responded.

  “Nothing’s impossible, C.”

  “Well, you’re wrong about this.”

  “Maybe,” she said. It sounded like sarcasm, but I couldn’t be sure. “But what kind of sister would I be if I didn’t help you sort through your feelings?”

  “There are no feelings to sort through,” I fought back.

  “Oookay.” She stretched out the word, and for a brief moment, she reminded me of me. Well, we were siblings, after all. “Keep telling yourself that.”

  “I give up!” I said loudly as I put my hands up in mock surrender.

  “Good,” she said with a smile.

  “Good,” I responded.

  “Okay, now that that’s settled …” she trailed off.

  “Do I need to make it up to her?” I had asked before we got off the topic completely.

  “What?” Beth asked.

  “I mean I feel like an ass for suggesting the makeover.”

  “Oh, we’re still on that subject. And here I thought you didn’t care about the girl.”

  “This is me caring about her feelings as a person. It’s totally different.”

  “Oh, yeah, very different.”

  “Beth.” I might have whined. “Be serious for a second. What do I do to make it up to Em.”

  “Okay, being serious, I don’t think you should do anything. Knowing Em, it’s probably best if you just drop it.”

  “You sure?” I asked.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Flowers?” I asked with a shrug.

  She laughed in response. “And you still want to pretend you don’t like her?”

  “I don’t like her like that.”

  “And you give all your friends flowers when you want to say sorry?” she asked.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, just forget I asked.”

  “I can forget, but you probably won’t. I bet you’re thinking about Em right now.”

  “Of course, I am,” I snapped. “We’re talking about her, after all.”

  “Don’t play dumb, C.”

  “Change the subject, Beth,” I urged. “We keep going round and round in circles so find another topic.”

  “Geez, all right. Fine.” And she did change the subject to work. But she was right; my mind kept wandering to Em. To the way she relied on me, to the way she looked at me like a hero when I was there for her, to the way she opened herself up and let me in, and to her eyes. Especially her eyes. They were simply amazing, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t get them out of my mind. And all throughout the conversation with Beth, I kept thinking about Em. But I didn’t like her … not that way. I couldn’t … She was my friend … and nothing more.

  Twenty Three

  Emerson

  “I don’t know how you talked me into this,” I told Carter as we started cleaning up his table after dinner.

  “Talk you into what?” he asked.

  “This damn Friday ritual thing we have going on,” I said as I pointed back and forth between the two of us.

  He chuckled, and I watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down. I might have gulped loudly, watching the muscles in his neck flex. He was too darn good looking. It hadn’t bothered me before, but lately, I kept noticing all his features individually, and they were very nice features. But put together as a whole, he was freaking hot. “It’s called dinner, Em,” he said with a smile.

  “And a movie,” I added.

  “Oookay,” he responded. He hadn’t stretched out the word in a few weeks, and I didn’t realize I had actually missed the way he said it. Stupid, I know. “And a movie,” he repeated my words. “And I don’t believe I talked you into it.” He smirked.

  “You forced me into it.”

  “Only the first time,” he retorted, still smiling. “The other Fridays have been of your own free will.”

  “There’s no free will when it comes to you. You just bulldoze right through anything in your way.”

  “Well, your stubbornness was in my way.” He shrugged.

  “Meeting you was a bad idea,” I mumbled.

  “You mean fantastic idea?” he countered. “I believe you meant to say that meeting me was the best thing that’s ever happened to you. Now, you get the pleasure of my witty texts—”

  “They’re okay.”

  “You get to hear my sexy voice—”

  “Whoever told you that lied.”

  “Let’s not forget how blessed you are to see me at least once a week—”

  “Cursed. The word is cursed, not blessed.”

  “Admit it, Em, you don’t know
how you went through life without me.”

  “And apparently, your ego couldn’t be any bigger,” I responded, but I had been smiling through the entire conversation. “I was perfectly fine all by myself before you insinuated yourself into my life. This was just supposed to be a few exchanges so we could keep up our ends of the deal.”

  “Perfectly fine sounds horrible to me. Life is supposed to be exciting, thrilling, an adventure.”

  “And what adventures have you been on?” I asked.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “Ugh!” I threw my hands up. I did that a lot around him. “If you dare tell me about any one of your sexual conquests, I will cut off your tongue.”

  “Aggressive.” He chuckled.

  “And speaking of deals …” I trailed off.

  “Yeah?” he asked. “You need me to meet your family? I’m all for that,” he answered. I hadn’t been expecting that, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about him being so completely open to meeting my family members ahead of schedule.

  “No, no, no, nothing like that. The first time you’re meeting everyone is at my cousin’s wedding.”

  “Then what is it?” he asked with curiosity, but I swear I heard a hint of disappointment. He didn’t want to meet my family at all? Or he didn’t want to wait until the wedding?

  “Isn’t the deadline for your bet coming up? Next week, right?”

  “It is, isn’t it?” he asked out loud. “Hmm, I guess you’re right.” He shrugged.

  “So shouldn’t we discuss how it’s all going to do down?” I asked. “I mean these Friday nights are probably going to have to go,” I informed.

  “What? What the hell does that have to do with the bet?” he asked, slightly outraged at my observation. I bit back my smile.

  “You can’t very well be spending time with someone you just dumped.”

 

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