Real Liars

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Real Liars Page 6

by S. M. West


  Eight

  Paige

  Berating myself for being a fool, I rush from Zachary’s office, torn between grateful and disappointed he isn’t trying to stop me from leaving.

  Whatever.

  I’m not surprised our arrangement is over although I am surprised at how quickly it ended. We have nothing in common and trying to make people believe we’re a good match is just insane.

  Now I’m back to solving my problems with my landlord. I’ll have to look for my own lawyer, or hopefully Drew can point me in the right direction. This will also mean paying legal fees and that’s a problem. I don’t have extra cash lying around.

  That’s the very reason I agreed to this stupid arrangement. Zachary Rothwell was supposed to be free. I should have known the adage ‘nothing is free’ would bite me in the ass. Turns out, Zach’s deal comes with a hefty price tag.

  Where the hell does he get off insulting me like that? And for what? Because I was talking to a man?

  I’m so caught up in my thoughts, I don’t see Donovan standing at the bank of elevators until he speaks.

  “Paige.” He smiles warmly and I wish I’d been paying more attention. I would have taken the chance to slink out of sight.

  “Hi.” I plaster on the biggest smile I can muster.

  No need to be rude. It isn’t his fault Zach is a jerk. From what I remember, Donovan is a nice guy and at one point, I had wanted to pursue something with him.

  “Sorry about that back there.” He points toward where I just escaped.

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “So, you and Rothwell, huh?”

  I shrug, not really having a comment. If I dare speak about Zach, I’ll end up saying something I’ll regret. Not fully aware of Donovan’s relationship with Zach, I don’t want to screw up anything by saying something inappropriate even if the jerk deserves it.

  “I’m guessing it’s serious if you’re going to the board dinner.” He pushes for more and quickly fills the silent void as my lips remain sealed. “I’ve known Zach for easily half his life and this will be a first—bringing a date to a board dinner.”

  “Mine too,” I relent, smiling weakly. He doesn’t have to know that I’m no longer going.

  “Listen, if you’re leaving.” His eyes flick behind me, the way I came, as if expecting Zach to show up any minute now. Not a chance. “Can I buy you a drink?”

  I’m not thrown by his invitation. I could see his intention in his gaze, and I don’t answer right away, weighing what a drink with him could mean.

  He will want to probe for more about Zach and me, figure out what exactly is going on. As for my interests? I don’t have any where Donovan is concerned. That ship sailed a long time ago.

  Sure, he’s handsome, but I’ve sworn off men. And then there is Zach.

  Speaking of the devil, he barges past Donovan, eyes, as well as the rest of him, gunning for me.

  “Zach—” His name lingers on my tongue as his large manicured hands cup my face, shooting tingling waves to every part of my body.

  It happens so fast and so slow. His icy blue eyes peer down at me and my attention drifts to his lips. The very ones twisted in anger not too long ago. But now, they are wet and softly parted as he bends to take mine.

  Pleasure floods my body, pulsing through my belly, and I lower my eyelids as the heat of his kiss consumes me. Some kind of ding goes off somewhere in the distance and it’s followed by movement close by.

  “I don’t have to tell you two to have a good night.” Donovan’s humorous comment vaguely penetrates my drunken kiss-induced haze.

  I can barely form a coherent thought.

  I’m kissing Zachary Rothwell.

  No, make that Zachary Rothwell is kissing me.

  And holy hell, the man knows how to kiss.

  Somewhere in the back of my mind I register that this shouldn’t be happening, but I just can’t, not even for my own self-respect, care.

  I’m enjoying it way too much. More than I should.

  Before I can take stock and catalogue every stroke or command of his tongue, teeth, and lips, he breaks the kiss.

  He’s still holding my head, and we’re close enough that I could lean in and take more. There would be no effort on my part, only pleasure, to cover my mouth over his and take. Get my fill of this infuriating man who knows how to kiss the ever-loving daylights out of me.

  My brain is mush and my knees aren’t much better.

  So this is what it feels like to be marked.

  “I was...” His voice is husky and anything else he was going to say fades.

  We’re not even an inch or two apart, he’s still bent, cupping my face, and our foreheads are plastered together.

  “Out of line,” I say, and he nods.

  “A jerk,” I continue and again his head nods in agreement.

  “All those things.” He finally finds his tongue as his hands drop to his sides and he pulls away.

  His retreat is like an arctic breeze, chilling my bones. He busies himself and tugs at the ends of his button-down sleeves, one and then the other, before glancing at me. Pressing his lips together, Zach’s molten gaze drifts down to mine.

  Oh no. He’s not going to get away with that. His look, the one that says he’s revelling in reliving our kiss, isn’t going to distract me from the conversation at hand.

  “Yet you have nothing to add to that?”

  I fold my arms and then drop them and now his filthy stare flicks downward. My traitorous nipples stiffen, erect, more than eager for his attention.

  “Let’s forget earlier. Start over.” It’s a declaration but I can’t help feeling he’s sweeping dirt under a rug. “A car is downstairs waiting to take you home. Take the dress. I’m having it brought down to the car as we speak. And I’ll see you Friday night.”

  “No way. This isn’t going to work for me.”

  The dirt may be hidden, but it’s still there. Out of sight but not gone just like the sting of his insult.

  “Good night, Mr. Rothwell.”

  I press the elevator button and he watches with a sly grin. My fingers wipe at the edges of my mouth, giving the impression the kiss was a nuisance or of no consequence instead of the reality. Mind-blowing.

  Getting into the elevator with me, he escorts me to the car in silence. The driver opens the door and before I can get into the car, Zach grabs my hand and I’m forced to glance back at him.

  “I’ll see you on Friday.”

  “Maybe.”

  He chuckles, inching closer to me with his hand now on my hip and turning me to face him. “I’m sorry.”

  My teeth sink into my lower lip to stop the smile from spreading, but there’s no stopping the butterflies flapping wildly in my belly. “Good night, Zach.”

  “Good night, Paige.” He presses his lips to my forehead and my eyes flutter closed. “I can’t wait to see you in that dress.”

  The drive home and the following days are a haze of questions and uncertainty. I’ve got a monkey on my back and something gnawing at me and no matter what I do, I can’t seem to shake it.

  Despite the anxious feeling, I move headlong into my plans for Friday night. True to his word, the designer gown fits me perfectly. I don’t know how he pulled it off and at this point, it doesn’t matter. I’m in awe at how lovely it looks and feels on my body.

  Zach checks in with me on Friday morning, giving me a day to get over our tiff. That’s my guess anyway as to why he didn’t call the very next day. And he’s smart. It works.

  In between work, checking in on Bas, and getting nails, hair, and waxing done—all for my debut as Zachary Rothwell’s plus one—the memory of Wednesday night’s argument is forgotten.

  It’s now Friday afternoon and only hours before Zach will arrive when I get the call I’ve been avoiding.

  “Hey, Drew, how are you?” I slip off my Chucks and lock the front door. I’m home from the hair salon and all I have left to do is my makeup and put on the dress
.

  “What’s this I hear about you dating Rothwell?”

  “I was going to say something. Who told you? Mom?”

  “Sam. I introduced you to him so he could help you, not date you.”

  “I wouldn’t call it dating, but is it a bad thing if we are dating?” I’m walking a fine line between the truth and a lie.

  “He’d be a lucky guy to have you.”

  I can hear hollers of ‘damn straight’ in the background from my best friend and I laugh. Pippa always eavesdrops on our conversations and I don’t mind. It isn’t like I’m not going to tell her anyway.

  “We’ve seen each other once. We’re going to dinner tonight. That’s it.”

  “Why Rothwell? Isn’t he too clean-cut, too successful, too put together for you?”

  An unattractive snort from me follows his comment about Zach being everything all my past boyfriends weren’t. “You’re a laugh riot.”

  “Well?”

  “Well, what? I didn’t hear a question.”

  “Fine.”

  “What’s it to you if I date him? Don’t you like him?”

  “This has nothing to do with like. I don’t know him. He’s a businessman. A ruthless one at that. Be careful.” A near growl filters over the phone and my brother’s worry gives me pause.

  “Paige, you go at everything with your heart and I don’t know where Rothwell’s coming from—oh, scratch that, I know exactly where he’s coming from—”

  “Drew,” I groan, so not wanting the sex lecture.

  “I don’t want you hurt. Rothwell isn’t like the douches you’re used to.”

  “So, let me get this straight. You’re saying he must be using me, or he’ll take it and leave it because there’s no way in hell he could genuinely like me and want to spend time with me?”

  My gut clenches at the picture I’ve painted and more importantly, how accurate the depiction. Everything I’ve said is in fact what’s happening with Zach. And saying it out loud only makes me feel cheap and used even though Zach has been nothing but a gentleman—well, for the most part.

  “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m messing this up.”

  Guilt socks me in the chest. I’m the one messing this up by making my brother feel shitty when all he’s doing is looking out for me.

  “I get it. It’s fine. But there is something I want to know.”

  “What?”

  “Why does Zach owe you?”

  “It’s nothing.” His tone is dismissive.

  “Well, if that’s so then you can tell me all about it.”

  “It’s privileged client information, but what I can say is that I got the charges dismissed for one of his associates. While the guy’s actions were questionable, they were still within the confines of the law. Then the idiot did it again and there was no way the charges were going away. He was going to trial.”

  Drew pauses on a deep exhale and I start for the stairs, to get ready for Zach. “I refused to defend him. My job would have been all the more difficult given he had already been charged once before for the same thing. Anyway, Zach sweetened the deal.”

  This time his pause is extra long and it’s clear Drew is ending it there. “Go on. How did Zach get you to defend this guy?”

  “He doubled my rate and gave me an IOU that I could collect at any time for anything. Well, as long as it was legal.” Drew chuckles as if he’d ever do anything illegal. Please.

  “That’s it?”

  “Yup. Told you it was nothing.”

  “And you chose to cash in by helping me?” I’m moved again by my brother’s generosity.

  “Of course. Truth be told, I never imagined calling in the favor, but when your landlord problems came up, Rothwell, real estate mogul, was the first one to come to mind.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t sweat it. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “What’s going on?” Pippa’s voice booms over the line. Now I am on speaker.

  “Nothing. Everything is okay. He’s just concerned about my date.” I deflect to our earlier focus, sensing Drew is done with this topic of conversation.

  “Ah, there’s nothing just about your date, darling. It’s Zachary fucking Rothwell. Cha-ching! The guy’s got like a bazillion dollars. And don’t even get me started on how damn hot he is.”

  I giggle like a schoolgirl and Pippa joins me, making a sizzling noise just in case I wasn’t sure how hot Zachary Rothwell is.

  “Hey.” Drew’s indignant. “I do not want to hear the two of you drooling over Rothwell. Especially you.”

  Given the laughter and squeals, I surmise Drew is now chasing Pippa. Their dog barks in the background and the laughter drifts farther away, as have their voices. Did they leave me on speaker to do the deed?

  Why am I even asking? Of course they did.

  All is quiet. Well, not completely quiet and I imagine the two of them wrapped up in each other, without another thought of me on the line.

  “Helllooo, in case you forgot, I’m still here,” I shout.

  Nothing.

  “Guys, so not cool,” I mumble more to myself than anyone else because clearly, they are getting it on, and I am long forgotten.

  With a smile and a shrug, I give it the college try, saying loudly before ending the call, “Annnd we’re done. Bye. Love you both.”

  The doorbell rings as I’m halfway down the stairs. The flare at the end of the dress makes for a lot of fabric and I’m taking my time so I don’t trip. I can’t believe Zach got me this dress. I feel like I’m going to the Oscars.

  Only then do I consider I might be over-dressed. It is a board dinner; I have no idea what one would wear to something like that. From the little I know, I’d guess it’s formal but stuffy, no glitz or glam. Surely, Zach wouldn’t have bought a dress so out of sync with what others are wearing?

  I grab my clutch resting on the small entrance table and open the door to Zach. He grins, flashing a dimple. An adorable dimple I can’t believe I’ve never noticed before. I like it. A lot.

  Unapologetic, his blue eyes languidly rove my body in the curve-hugging red mermaid dress, stilling at the subtle vee neckline of the strapless gown. His darkening gaze lingers at the dip of the dress, revealing a hint of cleavage, before landing on my slightly parted lips, where he stills.

  His attention is fixed on my mouth for a more than comfortable amount of time and while I beat back any self-doubt at his fascination, his tongue peeks out to wet his lips. I moan at the gesture and his eyes flick to mine, now liquid heat, and a flush sweeps up my neck and into my cheeks.

  “Paige, you’re stunning.” The deep, warm quality of his voice, coupled with his avid perusal of my body, does funny things to me.

  My heart hammers against my ribcage and there’s an odd tightening of my lungs. “Thank you.”

  It’s tough but I finally drag my gaze away from his handsome face to drink in all his hotness in a tuxedo. “You’re looking mighty fine, too.”

  The black fabric of the jacket drapes his broad shoulders perfectly, tapering to his trim waist. He could easily be a poster boy for how a man should look in a tux. He chuckles and lifts his forearm toward me, gesturing for me to take it.

  “Shall we?”

  I nod, somewhat giddy and not quite sure what I’ve gotten myself into. Warmth floods my insides, yet goosebumps pimple every time his searing indigo eyes land on some part of my body.

  Both the driver and Zach help me into the back of the limousine in this dress, and I can’t help but feel a bit like a princess even if the task is ungraceful and I never much cared for fairy tales.

  I’m too wild and headstrong to double down on Prince Charming or any other kind of man for that matter. Sure, men are awesome, and things can be more fun with one, but I’m fine on my own.

  As proven by the men I’ve been involved with to date, I’m good at taking care of myself. Most could barely take care of themselves let alone bother to think about me.

/>   Once on our way, Zach makes what sounds to be a work call as if I’m not even there. I fiddle with my hands in my lap and with each passing minute, my nerves kick up a notch.

  “Soooo,” I finally say, hoping he’ll talk but his head stays down, no indication he’s aware I’m even here or that I said anything.

  “Should you have given me homework for tonight?” I stare directly at him.

  “Pardon?” He finally glances away from his phone screen and the knit in his brow suggests whatever he was looking at was troublesome.

  “I don’t know the members of the board. What if I say the wrong thing? Or don’t have anything to say at all? It’s kind of late to ask, but tell me what I need to know.”

  “Nothing.” He drops his phone into a holder on the side of the door. “Just be yourself. I don’t expect you to know their names or even recall them after this evening.”

  “Oh.” I should be relieved, but I’m disappointed. “So, I’m arm candy.”

  Nine

  Zach

  “Arm candy? I’ve never heard a woman refer to herself like that.” I contemplate grabbing my phone—anything else to look at but her. “And no, Paige, you could never be arm candy, as delectable as you are.”

  I wink to offset the faint flush decorating her cheeks at my blatant attempt at flirting. Even if what I said is all true.

  She is mouth-watering in the dress, more so than I imagined. Her hair is swept up to one side with cascades of rich chocolate curls spilling over one shoulder.

  When she opened the door to her place, a sharp stab punctured my chest and cut off my oxygen. It almost hurt to look at her. Perfect on my arm, that’s what she’ll be and without a doubt, she’ll charm and befriend many tonight, effortlessly.

  Paige could fit easily into my life.

  It’s the one thing I’ve come to realize in such a short period of time—even with our differences. She could fit into my world.

 

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