No More Lies

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No More Lies Page 3

by Sandy Appleyard


  She smiles for the first time. Lisa’s teeth are white as ivory, and perfectly straight. Great smile. Wish I’d seen it before. But now that I’ve seen it, part of me wants to see more of it.

  “Yes. I…dated a helicopter pilot once, and I took it while I had an aerial view. Apparently now you can do that with a drone, but I like the method that I used better.” She giggles. Sounds wonderful. She must have really liked the pilot. She seems to regard the memory with fondness.

  “Dated a pilot, huh.” I cluck my tongue. “That must’ve been something.”

  She shrugs. “It was okay.”

  Enough with the small talk. “Lisa,” I lift my head to look her in the eye. “What’s the deal? I mean, you don’t speak to me, now I can’t seem to shut you up.”

  With a step towards me, she purses her lips together into a semi-smile. She thinks I have more to say. And I’ve also effectively told her that she’s talking too much. “You asked to speak somewhere in private. But you don’t really have anything private to talk about. I don’t get it.”

  Another step towards me, and the charge in the air changes again. Her eyes seem to turn bluer, giving me chills. I watch her get closer, and I’m about to take a step back, but something keeps my feet planted on the floor.

  “I’m normally very flirty,” she says with a soft chuckle.

  “That’s the word.” I agree, as she takes another step to me, and suddenly she’s looking into my eyes.

  “See…you’re not afraid of me.” she says with a whisper.

  “No. I’m not afraid.” I admit, searching her eyes.

  “I didn’t think you would be, and that’s what was scary for me.” her voice is low and kind of sexy. Like post-coital pillow talk.

  “Why is that scary?” I ask. My hands were across my chest, but I relax them at my sides. My voice is low, too.

  “Because that’s how I weed out my men.”

  I smile. “Weed out?”

  “Well, Grayson, for example. Within twenty seconds, I could tell that he was going to be afraid of me, and he ended up with Laura. Clint, we got it on about ten seconds into our first date. But then he asked me to move in with him about ten seconds later. You know how that ended. And the first part of that is usually how guys I date turn out.” She places her hand on my chest. “You…I can’t figure out. That’s why I wanted to be alone with you.”

  “So you determine how successful your conquests will be by how quickly you can make it with them.” I state.

  “Exactly.”

  “And the fact that I didn’t show any of those traits that you’re used to, is why you just avoided me altogether.”

  “You catch on fast.” She says. Her hand is still on my chest.

  “So, you’re not afraid of me anymore.” I confirm.

  She shakes her head. Her eyes slide down to my lips, and I allow myself a glance at hers. The angle that she’s standing in, and the fact that she’s about a foot shorter than me, I can see part of her cleavage, and it’s…doing things to me. Especially with her hand on a sensitive part of my chest. My hand goes to hers and I lift it off my chest, sandwiching it between my two hands. “And I’m not afraid of you.”

  “Clearly.”

  “So…what if we try something novel…like actually going on a date, without having sex?”

  Her hand lifts out of mine and she takes a step back. Like I’ve just admitted that I have Gonorrhea. “Okay, now you’re scaring me.”

  “Oh, come on.” I say, like she’s being ridiculous. “You’ve never just gone out on a date?”

  “Well…ya…when I was really young.”

  “So, what’s the problem?” I take her hand in mine again. Laying it on thick, just to see where this goes, I plant a kiss on the back of her hand. “We like each other, don’t we?”

  As she watches me, it’s intriguing to observe her behavior. She watches me, but then she pulls back. Her hand comes away from mine again. “Oh, no. You’re one of those types.”

  I look up at the ceiling and guffaw. “What types are you referring to?”

  “One of those….” She loops her finger around in the air, trying to find the words. “Commitment types. You know, like Clint.”

  “Because I suggested that we like each other?”

  Okay, this girl is looking a little nutty again.

  She ponders that point for a moment. “Okay, so, how about we just have sex right now, and then see where it goes?”

  Not that the thought hasn’t crossed my mind once or twice in the last ten minutes, but I’m so not going to do that with my boss’s best friend. If she wasn’t someone that I may or may not have to bump uglies with on a daily basis…maybe.

  “How about we don’t have sex, go out for dinner instead, and then don’t have sex again…and then see where it goes?”

  She blurts out a laugh.

  “Seriously.” I say firmly. “You think it was awkward, you and I, before having this conversation? Think about how awkward it would be if we screwed right now, hated it, and then we had to look at each other every day until Laura has to choose between her best friend and firing me?”

  Her face brightens. “What if he love it?”

  I laugh, staring at the floor. “Still would be awkward. Think about it. If we go out, get to know each other, don’t like each other, at least it will be amicable and un…awkward.”

  “Wait…are you gay?” she asks bluntly.

  I snort a laugh. “You are something else…if I were gay, why would I be asking you out?”

  She’s unimpressed. “It’s happened to me before.”

  “No. I’m not gay. I like women. I like you. Do you want to go out to dinner tonight?”

  She gives me a look like she wants to take me up against the wall right now. “Are you sure you don’t want to just have sex?” she asks, like I’ve suggested she trade up Dom Perignon for apple juice.

  “I’ll have you converted.” I say back, like I’m convincing her that not having sex will be funner.

  “And you’re not going to like…ask me to marry you or anything? Because that’s happened to me before, too.”

  “Nope.” I lift my left hand. “I promise there will be no proposals of any kind occurring, except if we want to share food, but there will be no mention of sharing lives.”

  That gets a giggle. “God, you’re just like your brother.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  She sighs. “Alright, I’ll go out with you, and I won’t have sex with you.” She says, as though she’s feigning boredom. “Sounds barbaric if you ask me.”

  I grunt a laugh. “See? I’m not so scary.”

  There’s that disarming, titillating look again. “Are you sure you don’t want to have sex?”

  I lift a finger, playfully chiding her. “No, and not on the first date, either. Come on, let’s get back outside, before they think we’re having sex, anyway.”

  “Can I tell Laura we did?”

  “No. No more lies.” I say, playfully patting her arm. I gesture for her to lead the way back outside.

  “You don’t know what you’re missing.” She teases.

  “I’m sure I do.”

  Chapter 4

  Laura

  As I sit at our table for two in the restaurant, I’m so nervous, I can’t get my hands to stop shaking. Grayson’s present is sitting on the table. It’s a white box, about the size of an encyclopedia, but not a thick, and I’ve tied a great big red ribbon around it on an angle, so he can open it quickly. The photo frame is wrapped carefully in white tissue paper that I had leftover from Clint’s birthday present recently. The server has come by already, setting down two water glasses, and filling the with water and ice cubes from a large pitcher. This is not the kind of place that I’m used to, where there are napkin dispensers at each table.

  Instead, our table has its own mini chandelier hanging above, illuminating the table, which has a cre
am linen tablecloth on it. The table is round, and the cloth is long, wrapped around the stem of the table, in an angle, and caught in the center with a strip of cream-colored linen. The chairs are wooden, which I like, and they have a permanent cushion affixed to both the seat and the back of the seat, all in cream cloth. There is instrumental music playing in a low pitch throughout the restaurant, and all the servers are wearing uniform suits.

  I chose this restaurant because I’ve always wanted to see if it’s as fancy on the inside as it looks from the outside. There is an actual buggy outside, like what a real horse would have pulled back in the previous century. It’s inside a small, framed vignette at the entrance, and during Christmas, they line the buggy with white mini lights. There is a patio, but I thought that for a change, we can be indoors. It adds to the ambience. I’ve polished off almost my entire glass of water before I see Grayson walk in the entrance door.

  He sees me from afar and smiles. I rise and his smile grows as the hostess shows him where I’m seated. When the hostess leaves us, Grayson looks me up and down. “Wow, darlin’. You look beeeeautiful.” He says, making me giggle.

  “You’re not so bad yourself.” I say, kissing him.

  We sit down and he looks around. “Gee, I was going to say something coy, but I’m not sure if this place would tolerate such talk.”

  “Go ahead and say it. Pretend that it’s just you and I here.”

  He winks. “I was going to ask you if I get to peel that dress off you later.”

  “You sure do.” I take his hand in mine. “This isn’t so bad, is it?”

  His thumb skates over my hand. “Not as long as you’re here.”

  I lean in and kiss him again, as the waitress comes by and delivers our menus. She tells us what the special of the day is, and then says she’ll give us some time to choose our meal.

  Grayson opens his menu and his eyes bulge. “Holy wow.” A little chuckle. “It’s a good thing that we don’t do this often.”

  “I know it’s expensive.”

  “It was the carriage outside, right?” he says, and I smile. How well he knows me is crazy.

  He sets the menu down. “I know what I want.”

  I’m still looking at mine. “Steak.”

  “Yep.”

  “And you’re having one, too.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  A chuckle. “That’s my girl.”

  His eyes go to his wrapped present on the table. “What’s in the box?”

  “Why don’t we save that for after dinner?”

  “Is it dessert in there? You got some sexy lingerie to put on later, baby?”

  I smile. “Not exactly. The gift isn’t for me, it’s for you.”

  He scoffs. “Oh, make no mistake. If you had lingerie, it would be for me.”

  I laugh out loud. “Shut up.”

  The waitress comes and takes our orders. When she leaves us, Grayson takes my hand. “How are you doing? You know, since this morning?”

  “I’m fine.” I frown. “I was fine this morning.”

  “Tough as nails, you are.”

  “Not exactly.” I explain. “Once I knew it was Matty, I wasn’t afraid anymore.”

  “Good. He won’t see the light of day for a while. I’m sure his parents’ll lock him in their basement, too, once the law is done with him.”

  “The man is nearly my age, Grayson. You’re acting like he’s a teenager.”

  “He acts like he’s a teenager.”

  “True.” I agree. “His brother Derek is like fifteen years younger, and he has more maturity.”

  Grayson changes the subject. “So, are you really going to make me wait until after dinner to open the gift?”

  “Grayson Thomas, have some self-control.” I feign chiding him. “You’ll get your present after you eat your vegetables.”

  He lifts his chin. “Come here for a second.”

  I look around. “What do you mean?”

  He pushes his chair back and pats his lap. “Come sit.”

  “I don’t think you’re allowed to do that in this kind of establishment, Grayson.”

  He rises. “I’ll go ask.”

  “What?” I shriek. But he turns to me and puts his index finger to his lips, shooshing me. The look on his face is adorable.

  When he returns a few minutes later, he gestures for me to come over. “They said it’s okay.”

  I laugh, in shock. “Who did you ask?”

  “The chef himself.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “I never say what I don’t mean, love. You know that.” He pats his lap. “Come on.”

  Blushing, I take two steps towards him. He wraps his arms around me as I plant my weight on his lap. “Hi.” He says in his sultry voice.

  “Hi.”

  He kisses my lips. “I missed you today.”

  “I miss you every day.”

  “That deserves another kiss.” He says as he kisses me again.

  “You’re not going to suggest that we leave now and finish those kisses, are you? Because we already ordered.”

  “And defy my girl? You told me that I don’t get my present until I’ve eaten my vegetables.” He teases.

  And it’s like the waitress heard us. Our food is delivered, and Grayson dismisses me from his lap, so that we can eat. We devour our food in silence, because it is worth every penny that it’s costing, and then no sooner are our plates collected, does he invite me back onto his lap. “You up for dessert?”

  “Maybe in a little while.” I say, kissing his lips.

  “Well, I ordered a cake.”

  “You ordered a cake?” I repeat, in shock. “How on earth did you do that?”

  “It’s not exactly a cake, but it comes close.” He winks.

  As I sit in his lap, the chef approaches, carrying a cake, lit with a candle that is actually a sparkler. On the cake, in big, red lettering are the words, ‘Will you marry me, Laura?”

  Gasping, I put my hands on my face, feeling tears prick the backs of my eyes.

  Grayson reaches into his back pocket, and pulls out a ring, presenting it to me. “Baby, I know that it’s a bit of a cheesy proposal, but it’s a proposal all the same.” He purses his lips together. “Laura Warner, I love you more than I can even describe. I can’t…fathom being without you…even for a day. I want to grow old with you. You are my life, my…everything. Will you marry me?”

  “Nothing would make me happier.” I manage, as a tear rolls down my cheek. he kisses me, and we hear claps, whistles and cheers, discreet, but clear, from onlookers in the restaurant, including the chef, who has stood by to observe. Grayson places the ring on my finger and I look at it. “God, it’s so beautiful.”

  “I’m glad you like it. I figured it was your taste.”

  I look at him. “And you didn’t have any help picking it out?”

  “I can go down in history as the first male to have successfully picked out a non…what’s the word Clint used?....gaudy…ring for his wife-to-be.”

  “You did good, Grayson.” And that’s the truth. It’s even more beautiful than the one that Quentin gave me. But then, we were eighteen. The ring was only worth about a hundred dollars.

  The chef removes the sparkler and the server brings us two plates, a knife, and two forks, and leaves us. “Man, this restaurant has quickly become my favorite.” Grayson says.

  “Mine, too.”

  “You want to chow down on this? It looks good.”

  “Sure.” I hop off his lap and sit down. The ring glints under the light.

  “You’re going to stare it all night now, aren’t you.” He grins.

  “Probably.” I shrug, looking at it.

  When do I get my present?” he asks, gesturing with his chin at the box.

  I stuff a piece of cake in my mouth. “Soon.” I say between chews. The cake is delicious.

  “So, when do you want to tie the knot?” he
asks, stuffing his mouth with cake. He points to it with his fork and looks at me, instead of telling me how awesome it is.

  “I know.” I agree, shoving more in my mouth. When I’m done chewing and swallowing, I say. “When do you want to get married?”

  “We can do it anytime. But I suggest doing it in the summer, so if we don’t do it soon, we should do it next summer.”

  “You want to have a big or a small wedding?”

  “Laura,” he levels with me. “We both have big families. There is no such thing as a small wedding for us.”

  “You want to keep it simple? Get Reverend Jackson to marry us at the ranch? You come down the aisle on Trixie?” I smile just thinking about it.

  “Sounds like hog heaven to me, baby.”

  “It’s done then. We’ll see what dates Jackson has available.”

  He looks at the box, reaching for it, trying to act like I don’t see him. I slap his hand playfully. “Aw, come on. I gave you your present.”

  I cave. “Alright.” My hands shake as I push the box to him. He picks up on my nerves.

  “You okay, sweetheart?” he asks, suddenly his attention is on me, not on the box. He looks at me with deep concern on his face. “You’re shaking.”

  “I’m fine. Just…nervous.”

  “Nervous about what? Getting married?” he takes my hand in his. “Because if you’re not ready, baby, we can hold off. Whatever you want. I just want you to be happy.”

  I look at him with more conviction than I’ve ever looked at anyone with. “Grayson, in my entire life, I can’t remember a time when I’ve ever been this happy.” I push the box to him. “Now, open this, before I lose my nerve.”

  A ‘v’ forms between his brows, but he’s got a warm grin on his face. Pulling the bow off at a painfully low pace, he teases me. As he pulls the top of the box from the bottom, he listens to the tissue paper moving around, and he pulls it open. My entire body is trembling with anxiety. I’m so afraid that he’s not going to be happy.

 

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