The Truth About Air & Water (Truth in Lies #2) Read Free Page B

same time, in watching the pitcher simultaneously hit the ground just in time and avoid an outright collision with the ball that just zinged its way toward the player at ninety-some odd miles an hour in an valiant attempt to snuff out his life. The line-driven baseball becomes as dangerous as a bullet, only in a different form.
    Most pitchers are lucky and incredibly fast. Elvis once told me that he’s always been lucky and that he’s incredibly fast, in baseball and so many things, as he likes to remind me. And oh how I love him for these two reasons—he’s incredibly lucky and incredibly fast—and others, so many others.
    A line drive in this case proves to be something entirely different. We’re being interviewed by Candy Baxstrom, Sports Illustrated’s up-and-coming special editions reporter. We’re a breakthrough feature story worth covering because of Linc’s incredible year in baseball this season and my own meteoric rise in San Francisco’s ballet world. We’re newsworthy, exemplifying the happy couple in both real life and the sports world. “Everyone wants to read about that,” Candy assured us when we reluctantly agreed to the interview with Linc’s publicist Kimberley Powers’ begrudging approval.
    “Avoid the hardball questions,” Kimberley said. “ Lie , if you have to. Omit , if you have to. Just get your photographs taken together and get the story down tight, the plausible one.”
    Kimberley was distracted, on her month-long honeymoon, calling us from some undisclosed location in the Caribbean. The cell service was questionable.
    I ignored the tightness in my gut at her warnings.
    I shouldn’t have.
    Line drives.
    About those.
    These come in all forms of life, besides baseball, but there’s that one too.

    “So how long have you two known each other?” Candy asks, slipping this one last question in just when she seems to be wrapping up.
    We’ve answered all the easy ones. I should have known we’d get back to this one. I’m reminded of Pastor Dan from weeks before.
    Tricky. This one.
    Linc just smiles and nods. Then, he looks over at me raising his eyebrow in my direction that only I can see. His single glance says you take this one . You lie better than me. I smile back at him. True.
    “A while,” I finally say to Candy.
    “How long?” Candy’s sugary sweet persistence is pissing me off. I can feel myself caving to the pressure already.
    “We met when I was still in high school. On Valentine’s Day. The day my twin sister Holly was killed. Linc saved me from the burning wreckage of my car. After the accident.” I pause telling myself to breathe. “After the accident. We met up again some time later.”
    My voice is no more than a whisper. It’s been almost five years and I still can’t think or talk about it without almost having a panic attack. Anger surges through an instant later for this blond viper in asking and at Linc for not answering like we practiced. We met about five years ago. Both busy with our careers. Me on the west coast. Tally on the east coast. But we never stopped thinking about each other even though we had our own lives.
    “I don’t like to talk about it. The accident. How we first met. Is there anything else you need for your story? I think you have enough. On us.”
    “I just wanted to know how you two ended up together,” she says with an innocent shrug. “It seems like a pretty straightforward question. You’re getting married soon. You’re both famous. I just wondered how it all came together and how you make it work.”
    Now, I’m the one without answers. I’m not sure how it works either. I can’t quite believe it myself. I’m still trying to figure it all out and still waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop and watch it all fall apart.
    Line drives.
    These questions.
    Our true story.
    When does it all work out? Who does it work out for?
    How long will it last? That’s the real question. The one I need a guarantee for.
    Linc