Things have been tense between Audrey and me since I uploaded that post. Nobody knew that post was coming, but I was hurt Audrey would do such a thing. I didn't tell Lorraine because goodness knows she would have told me off for being so negative when I should be supportive since she's family. Sofia wouldn't have understood, anyways. I'm pretty sure the whole me liking Jason thing was shocking to Sofia because she called me immediately after I uploaded that post. I knew I had to post something, even if it meant my own bitterness to the three other girls aiding me with the blog.

What I wrote was the truth. Marquilla polarized each relationship she targeted and it doesn't seem like the animosity will fade away soon. She got what she wanted; now she can enjoy the fruits of her labor as they unravel a destructive path for the Giante siblings, Audrey and me, and Jason. Bad things happen to good people, and this is only the beginning—or so I predict.

I can picture Marquilla and Skylar laughing their asses off as they read that post. I can also imagine the confusion on Sofia and Lorraine's faces as they read, and the anguish in Audrey's for thinking I'm inconsiderate. None of that is funny, but that's the reality of the situation. We just need to move forward and take time to let the blog blow over. I'd hate for this to completely sever Audrey and my relationship. I just hope she can forgive me.

Ironically, there's been a lack of communication between Jason and me. Since I moved here, we've only spoken very briefly through DMs. I haven't tried to call or text him after that conversation fizzled, and he hasn't made an attempt to reach out to me. It's like he's completely forgotten about me, yet he hasn't because Lorraine told me he misses having me around. I call bullshit. He would have tried harder to speak to me if that were the case.

The kids are currently at school, and I've found myself in this quaint bookstore in the city called Abbey Bookshop. Located on Rue de la Cheminerie, the shop sits on a street that was originally named for the scribes and scriveners, the heart of the Parisian book trade up to the Middle Ages. The building is absolutely stunning, as it's a historic 18⁰ Hotel Dubisson and one of the most handsome in Paris' Latin Quarter.

The building didn't draw me to the shop—the eclectic array of over 35,000 titles piled to the ceiling did. Just one step inside made me feel like Belle, and I still do as I peruse book after book. You can't find great bookstores like this back in the States! If I could spend the rest of my day here, I would, but I have to fetch the twins in a couple hours.

I have a copy of The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas in hand and all I smell and see are books galore. I'm in such a great mood, none of the crap that's happened can dampen my spirit! I've always escaped from the real world by diving into a good story; being surrounded by them goes the extra mile and more.

Since I have only a couple hours until the twins are back in my watch, I decide to take this copy and call it a day for book hunting. I've been here for the past two hours, which might seem like a long time for some people, but not a bookworm like me.

The woman at the counter, a petite woman with caramel skin and silky long, ebony hair, smiles as I approach her. Her name tag reads "Eponine," which makes me wonder if she's named after the character in Les Misérables. As much as I'd love to inquire about her name, part of me says to refrain from doing so. I don't want to make assumptions or seem rude.

"Bonjour!" Eponine greets me. "Puis-je vous aider avec ceci?" (Hello! Can I help you with anything else?)

"Non, c'est tout. J'adore votre nom! Contrairement au mien, c'est très beau," I say. "Je m'appelle Lindsay." (No, that's all. I love your name! Contrary to mine, it's very pretty. I'm Lindsay.)

Eponine shakes her head and chuckles as she scans the book. Either she's amused at my comment or thinks I'm insane.

"Votre nom est aussi beau que le mien. Mes parents me donnent le nom du personnage dans Les Misérables car ma mère adore ce livre." (Your name's as pretty as mine. My parents named me after the character in Les Mis because my mom loves that book.)

"Je le sais! J'avais un sentiment quand j'ai lu votre nom, mais ce dont je n'étais pas sûr," I voice as I hand her the money. (I knew it! I had a feeling when I read your name, but I wasn't sure.)

"Vous n'étiez pas tort," Eponine laughs. "Alors voici votre livre. Au revoir, Lindsay! C'était bon à vous rencontre." (You weren't wrong. Here's your book. Bye. It was nice to meet you.)

"Toi aussi," I reply, holding a hand out.

Eponine shakes my hand and gives me a double kiss before I part ways. At the foot of the door, I glance at Abbey Bookshop and sigh longingly, sad to be leaving its warmth and bookish scent. I don't know if I'll ever find myself back in the Latin Quarter, but I sure hope so. I'd really love to visit this shop again, and maybe see Eponine too. I'm surprised she didn't recognize me, but it's also a huge relief she didn't. She's probably not a Marquilla fan.

With the book now safely tucked away in my purse, I navigate the Latin Quarter back to the heart of the city. The more I see, the more I think about how right Lorraine is about the possibility of me staying in Paris. I wouldn't mind if I happen to lose my passport after this au pair gig. I'm sure the twins wouldn't mind me staying around longer. They already think of me as an older sister, anyways.

Lorraine's only false prediction is the whole "falling in love" bit, I mentally note as I spy a loved up couple down the street. Like you'd ever run into a cute French boy and do that! If she thinks you're returning to Cali with a new boyfriend, she's way in over her head.

But what about Fedez? He really wants to pick up where you left off, and it's not like you ended on bad terms, Linds. It's so obvious you still have feelings for him, and you instantly clicked again after that afternoon. He's not a bad guy. The only reason why he didn't tell you about Sofia is because she's a celebrity. That's understandable, but...

I grumble as my phone rings. Annoyed, I pull it out of my back pocket. My initial thought is it's Lorraine or Sofia. The name of the screen is alarming, and very unexpected.

SKYLAR ROSE

Marquilla has my number because Audrey gave it to her. How the hell does Skylar have my new number and why? She's never tried to contact me before, so this is an odd surprise.

"H-how'd you get my number?" I ask as soon as I lift the phone to my ear. "Marquilla didn't relay it to you, did she?"

"A girl never spills her secrets, Lindsay Goodrem. You of all people should know, Miss Exposing MG!" Skylar argues. "I just realized you guys are back. Cute. It's really cute how you're giving it another shot when nobody will believe you. But you and Lorraine deserve credit for not throwing in the towel. I admire your persistence. You need that in this industry to survive."

"What do you want, Skylar? This really isn't a good time. I'm kinda trying to get to a school right now so I can pick up the kids I'm looking after. I have like, an hour until then and I'm on the opposite side of the city. I can't find my car, too!"

"Right, you ran away to Paris to escape all of this because you're scared of me! You know what? Just because you're out of the country doesn't mean you're safe. It's such a shame, too. I actually like you, Lindsay. If you weren't foolishly toying with Sofia's brother and Jason's emotions right now, you'd be in a better position. Instead, you screwed yourself and the people you love over."

"Did you call just to gloat?" I spit as I finally spy the Courtois car. I breathe a sigh of relief and gun it. "You could have just texted if that's your intent for this insanely random call. Besides, I am not toying with their emotions! Jason and I were never together, and things were never bad between Fedez and me. I'm just friends with both of them!"

"Lindsay, Lindsay, Lindsay. You're missing the point here, sweetie! Look, I know who you are and you have things on me that should NEVER be released to the public," she mentions.

"Like photos of you and Marquilla getting cozy at the hospital?" I suggest.

"You wouldn't dare, Lindsay!" Skylar threatens. I wouldn't after the scary calm tone. "I've come here to bargain. Marquilla's been reading, so she knows that I know who you and your sister are. The catch is, I haven't told her yet. If I had, she'd be destroying you right now."

"Let me get this straight, Skylar. You're willing to protect Lorraine and me if we protect you?" I question.

"Correct. You scratch my back, and I scratch yours. Or as you're more familiar with since you studied English, a tit for a tat. Either way you express it, all I'm asking is for you to leave me out of the posts. Your blog is about Marquilla, not me, so you should keep your posts about her. If you do that, I swear my team will leave you alone. What do you say, Lindsay? Will you take my offer or not?"

I'm now in the car and worn out from all the walking and running. I place my phone on the dashboard and switch the call to speaker. For a moment, Skylar's words linger as I fish the keys and slip it into the ignition. But I don't turn it on just yet. Instead, I breathe in the silence and let my thoughts run while I stare out the windshield.

"Why?" I pose. "Why are you being nice? Why don't you just tell her? Better yet, why don't you expose us on social media? We'll be out of your life for good if you publicly expose our identities."

"I told you, Lindsay. I like you. I'm offering you this one chance to save yourself. So will you take it or not? I'm not afraid to do it immediately after you decline. I will hold my word to whatever you decide."

I vigorously switch on the ignition, allowing the car's engine to come to life. I know Skylar Rose, and I know her threats are never empty. The scary thing is, she'll do it without remorse. She's a woman of her word. If I let my ego win, I could seriously regret my decision.

"Fine," I grumble. "We won't post about you anymore. Happy?"

"Very! I guess you should get the kids. I'll talk to you later, Linds. Oh, and if I were you, I'd give Federico a second chance. He's pretty cute, and Sofia will probably approve this time around. Besides, you really don't appreciate what you have until it's gone."

"Wait a second, are you subtly hinting at Josh or a—"

The line drops dead. I can leave Marquilla and the AMAs to the girls. I have a bigger mystery to unravel that involves a certain Bo Bro and the ultimate Vanilla Queen.

***

Thank heavens it's a school night! I don't believe I could deal with a couple of six-year-olds at nearly midnight right now. Too bad it's only 7:30 and I'm making dinner. I'm exhausted from the turn of today's events. It shifted from blissful to chaotic in the blink of an eye!

I thought it'd be great for Geneviève and Guillume to practice their English—they're supposed to be solely speaking English with me, anyways—so I'm banning French tonight. Their little accents are so adorable and I didn't realize how much they can learn from me until now. I regret not speaking in English with them beforehand when I'm already fluent in French. It's my fault I pushed them to use French because I knew they'd be more comfortable speaking it. I should have thought about the benefits of them housing an American.

"Lindsay, I'm 'ungry!" Guillume cries. "'Ow long weel eet be for ze pizza to bake?"

"We gotta wait fifteen minutes, bud," I inform him with a pat on the back. "You can wait that long, can you? You can have a little snack first. Geneviève is eating an apple. You can have something too if you want."

"But I don't want an apple! I want pizza! I want it NOW!"

Geneviève scoffs and rolls her eyes at her brother's antics. I feel her, but I also understand where he's coming from. Growing up, I was more like Guillume than Geneviève because I was a stubborn kid when it came to food. I wouldn't eat a snack when I knew dinner was on the brink of being done, too. It just didn't make sense to me to eat something small first. I clearly didn't grasp the concept of an appetizer, and neither does Guillume.

"You know what? Let's play a game. How about concentration?" I suggest. "C'mon, Guillume! I'll teach you how to play it!"

Confused and curious, he follows me to the table. I pull up a chair and sit directly in front of him. He stares at my hands in a seemingly befuddled manner; one is faced palm up right above my knee while the other is raised high in the air, knuckle up.

"Place your hands on mine," I instruct. "Then clap them against mine."

Guillume follows my instructions and stares at me for the next step.

"Now we repeat. Our hands are in the opposite direction now, so we clap them together to bring them back to where they were before," I explain. "Do you understand?"

He nods his head and follows my lead, clapping our hands together. Without hesitation, I go for a second round. Guillume picks up what he's supposed to do, easily miming my hand motions in perfect harmony. I then clap my hands three times and he copies.

"That's all there is to it!" I exclaim. "We do the hand thingy twice, clap our hands three times, and repeat. Now we have to pick a category and list off as many things as e can without repeating or hesitating. You think you can do that?

"Yeah," Guillume excitedly replies. "Let's do animals. I know a lot of animals! I can beat you at that, Lindsay!"

"Oh really?" I challenge. "You're on! Prepare to lose, Guillume! I'm the queen of concentration."

Our game fails to start because somehow, fifteen minutes pass and the pizza's ready for us to devour. Guillume shoots me a competitive smile , and his bottle green eyes ignite with a sparkle. If this kid thinks he can out run me to the oven, he's wrong.

"Loser has to eat fruit for dessert instead of the cookies I baked yesterday with ice cream!" I declare before rushing to the kitchen.

I don't know how his tiny legs can keep up with mine, but Guillume makes this race pretty even steven. As we approach the kitchen door, we're neck in neck. Who will eat fruit and who will have cookies and a bowl of ice cream? Who knows? It's a close call.

Both of us freeze upon seeing Geneviève taking the pizza out of the oven. She shouldn't be anywhere near an open and hot oven! She's six! But Geneviève retrieves the pizza with ease and (thankfully!) without burning herself. I wasn't worried about her little hands burning—falling into the oven concerns me more than that!

"Tant pis pour vous!" she sneers as she steps on a stool and places the pan on the stove top. "You both lost, so neizer of you get cookies and ice cream!"(Too bad for you!)

"Lindsay, zat's not fair!" Guillume complains. "She can't do zat! Please can I 'ave cookies and ice cream? Please, Lindsay? Pleeeaaassseee?"

I sigh and hang my head as I walk to the stove and turn off the oven. I really shouldn't have the twins hanging around the kitchen when they could be severely hurt by something hot or sharp. Wait, no—I should teach them how to make food some day! One of them could be a future chef, and I'd be hindering their talents if I don't encourage them to cook.

"Everyone will have cookies and ice cream," I decide as I fetch the cutting board and pizza cutter. "You have to promise me you'll go to bed on time, okay? Your bed time's at nine and it's 7:30 right now. You got that?"

I realize that's pretty late for kids their age, but tonight's an exception since we arrived an hour ago. The twins nod their heads and scatter to grab plates and cups. Rather than the dining table, I instruct them to head to the living room. Both don't seem to mind the change. I think we'll eat in the living room from now on because it seems silly to sit with them at the table. Thing should be casual with them, and the table is too serious to use.

While they patiently wait for me in the living room, I grab some orange juice from the fridge. My phone rings just as I'm ready to bring the pizza and juice to the kids. I mutter gibberish as I glance at the screen to see who it could be. It just so happens to be from Reli.

RELI: Miss you so much Linds! I'll definitely have to make time for you when I'm in Europe for tour. What's up?

ME: How do you feel about Josh Bohous? I'm sorry if this seems too personal, but I need to know.

RELI: Josh and I are cool. I don't like him like that anymore. The boys are like family to me, so Josh will always have a special place in my heart. I definitely don't have a crush on him. Why?

ME: Do you know how he feels about Skylar Rose right now?

RELI: Well I know their breakup was a disaster and he really cared about her. I'm pretty sure he still likes her. Even when he was with Luisana, he was still hung up on Skylar. Why?

ME: I need you to give me his number. I have to speak to him about Skylar. She called me earlier. Something she said made me think of Josh and when I asked her about him, she hung up. Either she's still fuming over the split, which I doubt, or there's still love for him in her heart.

RELI: Oh. My. God. This is HUGE! I'll definitely speak to him for you ASAP.

A/N:

Thank you guys so much for 4K reads on Exposed!! I don't know who's reading, but you guys are seriously the best for your support. Really, you have no clue how much this means to me.

Skylar is seeming pretty shady and vulnerable right about now. Thoughts on this chapter? Predictions for what'll happen next? See ya next time! xx