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A Necessary Lie

Page 7

by Lucy Farago


  “Looks good.” She pointed to his meal with her knife.

  “Why is it everyone’s meals always look better than the one you ordered?”

  She shrugged, picking up a clam with her fork. “The grass is always greener theory? Or you’re just so hungry everything looks good?” She popped the morsel into her mouth.

  “Maybe.” He grinned, watching as she chewed her food then licked her lips. She had a great mouth, full and bow shaped.

  “Would you like to try my pasta?”

  “Tempting but I’ll stick to what I ordered. You? Want some lamb?”

  “I’m not a fan of lamb. Too gamey.”

  His father would’ve agreed. If it wasn’t beef, the man didn’t see the purpose in cooking it. Deciding there was no way to take the conversation back to Jessie, he took her cue and kept their dinner talk to favorite foods, learning that while they had some things in common, she was in left field on others.

  “All I’m saying,” he said, “is if God had intended us to eat seaweed, we’d have gills.”

  “At some point in our evolution, we had gills,” she argued.

  And from there the conversation turned to religion. He kept the conversation going throughout their meal, simply to hear her argue her point. She might be a reporter but she’d make one fine politician. He’d vote for her. Of course, it didn’t hurt that every time she popped food in her mouth, chewed, and swallowed, he’d had this insatiable urge to kiss her.

  “What?” she said after licking the spoon of the crème brûlée he’d convinced her to order.

  “Nothing. I’ve simply enjoyed our time together.” It was the truth.

  The waitress brought the bill and before Grace could open her mouth, he shot her a look that he hoped warned what would happen should she chose to argue. Wisely, she said nothing except “Thank you.”

  “Believe me, the pleasure was all mine. This was nice and it most definitely beats eating alone.” He handed their server his credit card and asked if someone could call them a cab back to the hotel. “I’d have liked to take the carriage,” he glanced at his watch, “but we’ll be late getting to the ranch if we do. I hope you don’t mind?”

  Mind? How could she mind? Grace shook her head, unable to remember the last time she’d had such a stimulating evening with a man. Most people wouldn’t discuss religion with her—or any other topic she had firm views on. Either they didn’t want to get into it, or they were too busy trying to get in to her pants to want to disagree with anything she had to say. She liked a good solid discussion with opinions from all sides. She and Jessie had a rule. No secrets, no bullshit, no fakes. And as different as they were, no one got along better than them.

  She and Daniel stood and went outside to wait for their cab, her mind now back on Jessie. Here she’d gone and had a lovely evening and who knew what was happening to her best friend. What the hell was wrong with her?

  “Hey.” Daniel gave her a small nudge. “Where did you go?”

  “Sorry. I was thinking about Jessie.”

  The cab pulled up and Daniel opened the door for Grace. “That’s only natural.”

  She scooted over to the far left and waited for him to follow. Once inside he leaned forward and told the driver where they were going before settling in beside her.

  “Must be hard. Frustrating too. You know, not knowing where she is, and the police with no leads.” He shot a glance at the cabbie then said, “Her assignment might have led her to accidentally stumble onto something she herself didn’t realize she had. Like you said, she was inexperienced in articles of this kind.”

  “No one else thinks so.” Maybe because Stanton was a senator.

  “But you do.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Hmmm. Did your editor reassign the story to you? Seems a little cruel, given how close you and Jessie were.”

  “Of course he did,” she lied.

  “As you’re a no-nonsense kind of gal, I’m mean this with no disrespect. You’re lying,” he said with a barely noticeable hint of a smile.

  Grace bit her bottom lip, debating what to say. She didn’t want her father finding out what she was up to and, although there was no reason for Daniel to run off and tell him, she didn’t know him well enough to trust him.

  “I’ll have to make a couple of trips to the ranch in the next few days. Maybe I can help.”

  Too stunned to say anything, she remained silent. Was he offering to spy for her?

  “Think about it,” he said. “We’ll talk more in my car.”

  She had to admit she was intrigued by his offer.

  At the hotel, she one upped him with the cab and had her money ready before he could take out his wallet. “This ride’s on me,” she said, paying the cabbie before Daniel could object.

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “You’ve been more than generous with your time and your money. It’s the least I can do.” Which also made her wonder why he’d been nice to her. Of course, that could simply be her suspicious mind. Try as she might, it was hard to shake her upbringing. There were times she’d wished she was more like Jessie. A little more forgiving, a little more trusting, and a lot less waiting for the other shoe to drop. “I’m curious. You’ve come to my aid several times now, but why would you offer to spy for me?”

  “It’s not spying per se. But if I can lend my expertise to help find your friend, why wouldn’t I?” He gave the valet the number the hotel had assigned his car and together the waited.

  “You don’t know Jessie.”

  “What does that have to do with it? We’re talking another human being here. Look, I’m not going into a Colombian jungle. I’ll keep my ears and eyes open for anything unusual and let you know if something comes up. Do you have a copy of what your friend was working on? It might help if I saw it. Give me a better idea of where she was headed and maybe where she’d been.”

  It wasn’t a bad idea. Plus, it might give her a fresh, objective perspective. Especially if he’d been a PI once. Normally she didn’t trust easily. But Daniel knew Josh and Josh was even less trusting than she. “I grabbed copies before the cops got their hands on it. Which they don’t know so I’d really appreciate some discretion here.”

  “The next time I talk to the cops, I promise to keep my mouth shut.” He grinned. “Will you let me see it? Of course, I understand if you don’t want to share.”

  Grace wasn’t used to people being this cooperative or generous without an ulterior motive. But for the life of her she didn’t know what his could be. And Jessie was running out of time. “Are you certain you want to do this? I mean, he’s paying you. You work for him.”

  “He’s paying for my services to find this generous gift for his granddaughter. Our relationship pretty much ends there. I’ve read about his family shenanigans in the papers. If the stories are half true, then you have your hands full in trying to make him look good. Can’t blame the man for ornery relatives, but with the stunts his brood have pulled, people can’t be blamed for thinking apples don’t fall far from trees. Let’s see if there’s any truth to that.”

  Her brain shouted all kinds of warning buzzers, but when wasn’t it? Jessie would tell her to listen to her instincts. And they were saying there was more to Daniel than his country boy charm. Although he might be a stranger on the acquaintance scale, her gut was telling her he was a good guy. For Jessie’s sake, she chose to trust a man she barely knew. “When do you want to see it?”

  Daniel smiled and Grace’s belly did this odd swirly thing. Squaring her shoulders, she refused to believe the man had just given her butterflies. He was just hot… and sexy. That was all. And she hadn’t had sex in a long time. She was vulnerable. That was it. She missed Jessie, and fear for her best friend’s safety made her want to have big strong arms to hold her. Yuck. Where the hell had that come from? She wasn’t the hold me type of girl. She needed to snap out of it…whatever it was.

  “You do that a lot?” Daniel was asking
.

  She blinked. “Sorry?”

  “Space out. This is the second time that’s happened. Not that I’m complaining, mind you. You get this cute, real sweet, lost glaze to your eyes.”

  “Sorry,” she repeated. “I have a lot on my mind.”

  “Not a problem. How about tonight, after I drive you back. Sound good?”

  She hesitated for a moment, reconsidering her decision to include Daniel in her investigation. But if this man got her one step closer to figuring out what happened to Jessie, then so be it. “Sounds great.”

  Chapter Six

  On three hundred thousand acres of prime Texas real estate and in one hell of a palatial home, the senator explained that his family had owned the property for three generations on his mother’s side. When she’d passed away ten years ago, she’d willed it to him. To him—not the old man. That might make a guy ornery, knowing his wife wanted him out after she’d died. Cowboy had to wonder what exactly had caused her to do something like that.

  Since his last visit—two weeks before Jessie and his life were irrevocably altered—the place had been remodeled. The doors were now mostly glass, the once marble floor in the foyer replaced with wood, the planks unique in finish and color, like smooth caramel. He’d never made it much past the front entrance and grand staircase. He wouldn’t know what other renovations had taken place. But the kitchen, with its dark navy cupboards, looked and smelled new, the lingering aroma of fresh paint and plaster hanging in the air. The ranch had ten rooms in all, six for family in the east wing, three for guests in the west, and one by the kitchen. A house this size was designed to entertain, but from what he’d heard, Mrs. Stanton didn’t do much of it.

  After Cowboy explained how they’d come to arrive together, the senator seemed to warm to Grace. As if Cowboy’s approval of the woman meant something to Stanton. He guessed a Texan’s opinion of a female so obviously born and bred in the North meant something to the man. Now sitting by the pool, Cowboy accepted the cold beer Stanton offered and then proceeded to compliment him on his house, making sure that no one would think he’d been here before. “This is one heck of a pool. I’ve never seen tile like that before,” he said, pointing to the mauve and red mosaic pattern that encircled the inside trim of the concrete pool.

  “The tile is Italian. My grandmother brought it back from one of her many trips abroad.”

  He’d known that. Just as he’d known several spare cases had been shipped in case repairs ever needed to be done. “Wow. Is the pool original to this house?” It wasn’t but had been installed in the fifties, as Stanton proceeded to tell him.

  “I understand your grandmother enjoyed traveling but your grandfather didn’t,” Grace chimed in.

  “No, he did not. He and my father have that in common. But my grandmother was very independent. If she wanted to go somewhere and he didn’t, she went without him.”

  “The African safari with your mother must have been fun.”

  Stanton’s eyebrows rose, Grace clearly having surprised him. “Like I said, my father shared my grandfather’s beliefs that one should stay close to home. Businesses trips were unavoidable but chasing lions wasn’t high on his bucket list. My mother and grandmother went on their own.” Stanton smiled.

  From what Cowboy had seen today and now seeing the snarky grin on the senator, Stanton and his father weren’t as tight as they made the media believe.

  “I’d heard she and your grandmother were close. Her death hit your mother hard.”

  “They weren’t just mother and daughter. They were kindred spirits,” the senator said with a wistful expression. “I loved them dearly.”

  “Your grandfather passed away soon after that.” Grace had done her homework. “Leaving the ranch to your mother, Lila. And then upon her death it passed to you, bypassing your father?” she asked. But Cowboy suspected she knew the answer already.

  “You’ve done your research, Ms. Irvine.” His expression remained neutral.

  Was he pissed? Or impressed? It was hard to tell.

  “I want people to see the man behind the senator,” Grace responded. “The public needs to be reminded that behind all the drama is the good man they once had enough faith in to elect. Giving them your political achievements isn’t enough. They need to connect with you as a person.” The wind kicked up, blowing a large strand of her hair over her face. She brushed it away.

  Stanton nodded, seeming to agree with her. “And you think you can get them to see past… the drama.”

  “I can present the facts, such as your brother’s embezzlement charges, in a different way. I’ll make sure to point out that it was him, not you, who broke the law. We’ll also remind everyone you were the one who brought forth the bill on tighter regulations to prevent fraudulent insurance claims. Then we’ll finish with the man behind the politician. Like the grandfather personally picking up his granddaughter from the airport. So yes, senator, I think I can. We can’t deny what’s happened, but the public should separate the truth from supposition. You are not responsible for your family’s poor judgment.”

  She’d said it with such confidence, Cowboy had to wonder if she didn’t have an ace up her sleeve.

  They were seated at one of the many tables dotting the deck, Grace’s legs crossed as yet another gust of wind blew the hem of her dress higher on her knee. And what a knee it was. She had great legs, long…lean… muscled in all the right place and covered in silky tanned skin.

  “What do you think, Daniel? You think public opinion can be swayed?”

  “I think if anyone can do it, Ms. Irvine can. She has a reputation for tearing down politicians, not building them up. I believe if she gives you a fair shake, it’ll carry more weight than any puff piece will.”

  Grace eyebrows shot up. It was her turn to be surprised.

  “I read,” he said to her as in the distance lightning lit up the sky. What he’d done was read the articles Monty had wisely supplied. Grace Irvine was a ballbuster when it came to political corruption. She’d earned one of them fancy awards while writing her master’s thesis.

  The senator looked skyward. “Where did those come from?” he asked about the dark clouds now looming overhead. “They weren’t there a minute ago.”

  No, but they were here now. And soon it would rain. Judging from the thunderous boom cracking sound barriers, it was going to be one hell of a storm.

  “They’d forecasted rain,” Grace said, “but overnight. I guess they got it wrong.”

  And as if she’d jinxed it, the sky opened and soaked their sorry asses. By the time they’d made it to the patio doors all three of them looked like they’d gone swimming with their clothes on.

  “Well, that was fun.” Stanton ran his fingers through his greying hair. “Let me get some towels. It’s a good thing my wife isn’t here.” He chuckled as he cut through the kitchen. “She’d have something to say about my dripping water over her hardwood floors.” His tone, despite good humor, indicated all was not well with the Stantons.

  Grace brushed the rain off her arms, her pretty sundress plastered to her body. Although not made of a flimsy fabric, it did nothing to hide the shapely figure beneath it. While he and Stanton resembled drowned rats, she looked even more beautiful.

  “This is going to make for a damp ride back to town,” Grace said on a laugh. “Thank God your seats are leather or I’d leave one major wet spot. Explain that to valet parking.”

  “Glad to see you have a sense of humor about this.” He could change into the gym clothes still in the backseat of his truck, but she’d have to wait until they got back to the hotel.

  “No point in not laughing it off. And here I was worried about looking professional.” She peeled her skirt off her thighs. “You, on the other hand, are Mr. Darcy after his swim.”

  “Huh?” Who the hell was Mr. Darcy?

  “You said you read. Don’t you read period pieces?”

  “You mean like War and Peace? I’d rather watch wallpaper peel.�


  “Never mind. Just think sexy guy, wet clothes.”

  “You think I’m sexy?” He knew women found him attractive, but it boosted his ego to know Grace thought so. He also knew flirting with her wasn’t a good idea, but dumbass that he was, he did it anyway. “’Cause right now…” He leaned in, getting so close her warm breath fanned his lips. Instantly other parts of his body warmed. “… You got me beat.”

  He’d caught her off guard, so it took her a few seconds for the blush to fan her cheeks. That too stroked his ego… and a few other things. A silence filled with images of sweat-slicked bodies and rumpled sheets stood between them. If this didn’t stop, he’d end up kissing her. And that would be bad. He was here to do a job and go. She might be practical as all hell and be willing to scratch the itch he suspected they both shared, but part of him feared Ms. Grace Irvine would get under his skin. And that too would be bad.

  Stanton returned with an armful of towels, breaking the mood. “I’ll have the housekeeper make you something warm. Would you like tea?”

  “I don’t want to inconvenience anyone,” Grace said, taking a towel.

  “It’s not an inconvenience.” When Grace opened her mouth to argue he added, “Would you have them say I sent you home to catch your death of cold?”

  He had her there. Cowboy dried off his face and hair and patted as much water as he could to avoid dripping through the house. Stanton might get a kick out of tormenting his wife, but Cowboy’s mama had taught him differently. He watched as Grace also tried to soak up the water. “You know, I have my gym clothes in the car, shorts and sweats. They’ll be large but it’d be better than returning to the hotel in wet clothes.”

  “You’ll get wet doing me yet another favor.”

  He cleared his throat, glancing down at himself. “News flash.”

  She laughed. “I guess it’s too late for that.”

  “In the meantime, it’ll let you and the senator start your interview.” It would give him time to check out the house.

 

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