Little White Lies

by R. C. Matthews

  “After coming to your rescue twice in one day, I believe it’s the least you can do.”

  Madalyn’s lips twitched and she could no longer contain her smile. The man made an excellent point. She reluctantly nodded her head in agreement. He grabbed her hand, as if afraid she might bolt, and pulled her toward the bar. His smile was contagious—like a child in a candy store with a pocket full of coins.

  Madalyn couldn’t help but wonder if she looked like candy.

  Chapter Two – The Confession

  They sat at a cozy table in the Scorpion Piano Bar listening to the familiar tune of “Piano Man”—even though the singing was not equal to that of Billy Joel. A group of women were seated around the piano, swaying back and forth and singing along to the music. The brunette on the end flirted shamelessly with the piano player. The scene brought a soft smile to Madalyn’s face.

  “You have a lovely smile,” Royce said, watching her from across the table.

  “Thank you,” she said and gazed down at her hands.

  The situation felt surreal. Just yesterday she had stood at an altar, about to commit herself to Charles for life, and now she was sitting across from the sexist man she’d ever met. What a change a day could bring.

  A waiter came to take their order and Royce deferred to Madalyn, gesturing for her to order first. “I’ll have a shot of tequila and a Heineken.”

  “I’ll have the same,” Royce said. “And shrimp cocktail for two with a platter of cheese and fruit if you have it.”

  Her stomach growled precisely at that moment. She was glad he had remembered to order food.

  “You decided on the stiff drink,” he teased with a soft smile playing on his lips.

  She chuckled. “The first of many, I’m sure.”

  Madalyn crossed her legs, trying to relax and enjoy herself. Intimate mood lighting from the dimly lit wall sconces and candles on the tables lent a cozy atmosphere to the narrow bar with scarcely ten tables scattered about the room. They were alone except for the ladies drinking by the piano.

  “Where are you from, Madalyn?”

  “That’s a good question,” she said and could see the confusion in his eyes. “Until yesterday, I would’ve said Chicago. But now I’m not so sure. I’m considering moving back to Detroit.”

  “Big decision,” he said. “Why are you considering the move? New job?”

  “No,” she murmured with a shake of her head. “My parents aren’t getting any younger. It would be nice to visit more often. I owe a lot to them.”

  “My father taught me everything I know,” Royce said. He stared at his hands and seemed momentarily lost in his own thoughts. His sorrow clung to him like dew on early morning grass. “He was a great man.”

  Past tense.

  Madalyn felt compelled to reach over and grab his hand. “I’m so sorry, Royce. It must be difficult not having him in your life.”

  He nodded his head, shook off his melancholy mood, and then changed the subject. “What do you do for a living?”

  “I’m a lawyer.”

  “Really?” he asked with his head turned at a slight angle, not even trying to hide the surprise in his tone of voice. “Following in a parent’s footsteps?”

  “No!” she said, chuckling. “That couldn’t be farther from the truth. My parents own a bakery. Unfortunately, I didn’t inherit the baking gene. That went to my sisters. But I can appreciate a buttery croissant and cheesecake as well as the next gal.”

  “That’s interesting,” he said with a smirk. “I would’ve pegged you as the domestic type, but never a lawyer.”

  “Why? Don’t I look like a lawyer?”

  His eyes raked over her slowly as a sexy smile appeared on his lips. “Not like any lawyer I’ve ever seen.”

  Her lips parted involuntarily at his words. He was flirting! It threw her off balance and her insides began melting like an ice cream cone on a hot summer day. She wasn’t ready to flirt back. Yet.

  “So why law?” he asked, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands lightly on his lap.

  “Why law?” Madalyn repeated the question to get back on center. “I’m the ultimate rule follower. My parents are devout Catholics,” she offered up as a possible explanation. “Maybe I took the priest’s sermons a little too seriously when I was a child. I like there to be order and justice. Business courses always held my interest too. My dad insisted that all of his girls learn how to balance a budget. Corporate law seemed to suit me. You know, best of both worlds.”

  “You’re a financially savvy goody two-shoes?” he deduced with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. Was he testing her sense of humor? His pursed lips contained the laugh that threatened to escape.

  “I’m not a goody two-shoes!” Madalyn blurted. She sat up straighter in her chair and lightly crossed her arms over her chest. “I briefly considered patent law.”

  “Please forgive me,” he said and covered his amused chuckle with a cough. “Patent lawyers are pretty cutthroat!”

  Madalyn’s brow rose in a questioning arch and she shaved a few inches off the bottom of the pedestal upon which she had placed him. This guy was a real smartass. But to be fair, she admitted to herself, she would’ve laughed had the comment been directed at someone else. Still, she gave him a sour look.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his face the mirror of contrition. “I didn’t mean to offend you. You don’t know me well enough yet to know I’m just messing with you. I’ll behave myself now. Friends again?” he asked, holding out his hand to shake hers.

  He was flashing an irresistibly boyish grin. What could she do but immediately give in? She reached over and shook his hand, a small smirk creeping across her face.

  “Which law firm do you work for, Madalyn?”

  “Brickman & Mackenzie,” she said. Not that she expected he had ever heard of it. Although it was well known within the business community of Chicago, the general public had no reason to be familiar with it.

  “Yes, of course. Quite prestigious, albeit small,” he said.

  A tiny spark of excitement ignited in her belly at his words. He must live in Chicago too. How else would he recognize her employer?

  “You must have done well in college,” he continued. “Where did you attend?”

  This was starting to feel a little like an interview, which had an odd yet calming effect on her. Perhaps he was doing it on purpose to help her open up? Whatever his strategy, it was working. She could feel her shoulders relaxing.

  “University of Michigan,” she said. But enough of the talk about her; she wanted answers too. She arched her brow and leaned into the table. “And you? What do you do for a living?”

  “I help run my family’s business.”

  “Which is?”

  “We’re into pharmaceuticals.”

  It was like pulling teeth. Why was he so tight-lipped? She had been quite open with him in comparison. Did he have something to hide?

  “Like a pharmacy? Or more like Johnson & Johnson?” Madalyn asked, unwilling to let him off so easy.

  “Johnson & Johnson,” he said, looking at her dead on. “But nowhere near that size.”

  What did that mean? Was it possible to have a small pharmaceutical business and still conduct the necessary research and clinical trials for new products? It seemed unlikely, but Madalyn dropped the subject, sensing he didn’t want to talk about it. Besides, she wasn’t sure how much she wanted to know about him. Maybe it was better to keep their relationship on a superficial level for now.

  The waiter returned with their order and before she could pull out her Sailing Card, Royce had already picked up the tab. She thanked him and sat back into her chair, stealing a glance at him. There was no denying the man was handsome, and his easy manner was addictive. She settled more comfortably into her chair, grabbed her beer and took a long drink.

  “Ready for that shot?” he said, licking his left hand between the thumb and first finger then loading it with salt. He placed one shot glass dire
ctly in front of each of them along with a wedge of lime. Madalyn nodded her head and followed suit.

  “Bottoms up,” she said.

  She licked the salt off her hand, threw back the tequila and then followed it immediately with the lime. Her whole body quivered as the fiery liquid made its way down her throat. The tequila burned a path to her stomach, warming her from the inside out. Royce laughed at her reaction and then swallowed his shot effortlessly.

  “Do you have any siblings?” he asked, licking his lips and placing the lime peel on his plate.

  “Yes,” she said, looking away. Why was she so obsessed with his lips? Maybe because they were as full as hers and she’d never kissed a full set of lips. Oh, right—siblings. She smiled thinking fondly of her sisters. “I have two sisters. I’m the middle child. We grew up in the suburbs of Detroit.”

  “Who doesn’t love the Motor City?” he asked. “Detroit Tigers and Red Wings. What’s not to love?”

  “Really?” she said. “I would have thought you were a White Sox fan.”

  “I grew up in the Metro Detroit area too,” he said with a shrug. “I’m a fan for life.”

  She arched her brow in surprise. So he grew up in the same city and eventually moved to Chicago just like her. What else did they have in common? “Do you have siblings as well,” she asked.

  “A younger brother,” he said. “He can be quite a pain in the ass.”

  It was obvious from his tone that he was joking. Madalyn grinned back at him as she felt the tequila begin to work its magic. They each reached for their beers and sat in companionable silence with their eyes locked on one another. A warm glow settled in her stomach, whether it was from the sultry look in his eyes or the effect of the alcohol, she wasn’t sure. Nor did she care. She simply enjoyed it.

  “So what had you running from the dining room?” he finally asked with his lips pursed in anticipation.

  Madalyn could feel the blush rising in her cheeks and was grateful for the dim lighting. Perhaps he couldn’t see her reaction to his question. She looked down at her beer, wishing he had forgotten about it.

  “I’d rather not say,” she said, expecting him to drop the subject.

  He had proven to be a gentleman so far. She picked up a shrimp, dipped it in cocktail sauce and popped it in her mouth, happy to have something to occupy her through the awkward moment.

  His brow lifted and he studied her while she chewed her food. “Come now. It can’t be that bad. I’ve never been on a cruise before, but I’ve heard the cuisine is exceptional. Fess up!”

  She would’ve rather walked over hot coals at that moment than admit the truth. It was time to prove that she could be a smartass too. Her expression became grave. She leaned toward him—pushing up against the table—and whispered, “If I tell you, I will have to kill you.”

  “Hmmm . . . ” he said as he leaned into the table too. The movement sent his heavenly scent drifting over her. He was just inches from her face, his lips enticingly close to hers. “Then you leave me no choice but to try and guess.”

  Her eyes popped wide open and she sank back into her chair. What an unexpected response. She opened the stage to him with a sweep of her hands, ready to be entertained. His eyes lit up at the prospect. Smartass and playful—she was beginning to like him for more than just his good looks.

  He sat back in his chair, his right hand rubbing his chin. “You bumped into your retired tenth-grade English teacher and he professed how much he had always wanted to date you?”

  Madalyn giggled and shook her head. “My tenth-grade English teacher was Mrs. Smith.”

  “She professed?” he corrected.

  Madalyn gasped, harnessing all of her willpower not to bend over and slap him on the knee. She may very well be a goody two-shoes, but she wasn’t willing to let him see it. She sat up straight and produced a rigid smile.

  “Joking!” he said quickly.

  “Well, then . . . ” Royce said, pulling his hand through his hair, “on the way to your table . . . a young boy slipped his foot out into the walkway, sending you flying face first to the floor?”

  “Better,” she said laughing, but shook her head no, enjoying his little game.

  “I’ve got it!” His hand flew off his chin and he pointed his index finger directly at her. “When you arrived at your table, you were confronted with your high school nemesis, the head of the cheerleading squad …” he snapped his fingers furiously as though trying to recall her name, “Rebecca,” he said triumphantly, “who offered to give you the name of a good trainer to help you take off those freshman fifteen?”

  Madalyn choked on her beer and slapped him on the knee for that guess, but couldn’t suppress her chuckle. He was pretty damn funny and deserved an A for effort.

  “As entertaining as that suggestion was,” she said, grabbing another shrimp, “the answer is still no.” She chewed slowly and wondered if he had finally given up.

  He sat back in his chair, momentarily defeated. Then he changed tactics. A pouty bottom lip suddenly appeared and he widened those big green eyes, tilting his head ever so slightly, imploring silently for Madalyn to give in and tell him. The image of Puss in Boots from Shrek came immediately to her mind. She was undone by his look and capitulated.

  “Ok! Fine,” she said, deciding to get it over with before she changed her mind. “When I arrived at my table, I realized it was ‘the newlywed’ table.” She drew out the pronunciation of the dreaded term.

  Royce gave a snort of laughter. “That would’ve sent me running for the door too.”

  Madalyn attempted a smile in response and tried to maintain eye contact. He studied her in silence. She eventually cracked under the pressure and looked down at her hands.

  “It’s easily fixed,” he said. “Just go to the concierge. I’m sure they can work it out. They made a mistake.” He took a sip of his beer while gauging her reaction. And then he went in for the kill.

  “So why the tears?” he said softly.

  Observant man, damn it! Madalyn hesitated, biting the inside of her cheek; she puckered her lips and looked up at him. Should she tell him the truth? Jeanine had told her not to worry about what others think. Oh, why the hell not? She popped a cube of cheddar cheese in her mouth and stared at Royce while chewing on it. Would he run or stay?

  “They didn’t make a mistake,” she said and her belly flipped, and then flopped when Royce lifted his left brow in question. Shit that was so sexy!

  She tossed him the grenade.

  “I requested the newlywed table when I booked my honeymoon cruise.”

  There. She had said it. It should’ve sent him running for the door; instead he stared at her ring finger. Her heart was pounding a slow but heavy beat like a drum in a funeral march. It took all her willpower to stay calm and not squirm in her seat. Say something already!

  “I see,” he said calmly. “And where exactly is the groom now?”

  She chewed on her thumbnail. It was impossible to guess what he was thinking from his tone of voice and his body language wasn’t giving anything away.

  “Back in Chicago, I suppose.”

  “You suppose?”

  “Yes. I haven’t seen him since I ran out of the church yesterday, dumping him at the altar to deal with a thousand shocked guests.”

  His mouth fell open. Madalyn could see the tip of his tongue. She had rendered him speechless, and for some reason she had the impression he wasn’t speechless often. She waited patiently. After a minute he regained his composure and started firing questions at her.

  “Why didn’t you ask for a new seating arrangement as soon as you got on board?”

  She shrugged her shoulders and tried to control her exasperation. She was a lawyer and didn’t like to be on trial. “I booked this cruise over nine months ago! I forgot I was going to be seated with newlyweds. I’ve had a lot on my mind in the past twenty-four hours.”

  “Fair point,” he acknowledged. “How long did you know the groom?”

>   “Six years,” she said. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

  “What did he do for a living?”

  “Why?”

  She struggled to understand where he was going with this. Why should he care? Wasn’t it enough that he knew she’d dumped her fiancé? Did he need to know the gritty details to rub it in her face?

  “I’m just curious,” he said as he shrugged. “One thousand guests? Humor me.”

  “He’s a lawyer preparing to take over as president of his family’s department store.”

  His brow shot up at that revelation and he waited patiently for the details.

  “Brooks,” Madalyn exclaimed. “The ‘famous’ Brooks of downtown Chicago.” When would his curiosity be satisfied so they could move on?

  “The hottest bachelor on the Chicago market?” he asked with shock registered clearly on his face.

  Madalyn groaned. Just her luck; he definitely lived in Chicago. She hadn’t pegged him for a society pages kind of guy. She nodded at him, wishing she could crawl into a hole. The entire situation was embarrassing. Why had she decided to tell him?

  “Why did you run out on the groom?” he asked, seemingly unable to satisfy his morbid curiosity.

  “That’s personal,” Madalyn said, crossing her arms firmly over her chest.

  She had had enough of the grand inquisition. If she was honest with herself, she hadn’t been thinking at all when she ran out on Charles. For the first time in her life, Madalyn had set logic aside and went with her gut feeling. She hadn’t realized the extent of her internal struggle in the last few months until she stood at the altar ready to recite her vows. All it took was one fleeting glance from Charles to his mother, as if he was asking for her final approval before taking the plunge, and suddenly it had become clear that Madalyn was experiencing more than just pre-wedding jitters.

  “Indulge me, please,” he said and clasped his hands in front of him as if in prayer. It was such a boyish gesture it drew an involuntary giggle out of her.

  “Why should I?” she said. “I don’t even know you.”

  And for some reason, she didn’t want him judging her. Though it was probably too late. He stared her down with an I’ve-got-all-night-baby look on his face. He didn’t give up very easily. She would do well to remember that.