Beneath the Truth

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Beneath the Truth Page 11

by Meghan March


  I guessed our experience would be the determining factor of that.

  When Rhett pulled the door open wide for me, my heart melted. He was a gentleman, despite his claim to the contrary.

  A large reception desk, whiskey barrels with a live-edge wooden slab on top, was manned by a petite dark-haired woman.

  “Welcome to Seven Sinners Distillery and Restaurant. Do you have a reservation?”

  “Yes, Hennessy for two.”

  I couldn’t believe I was on a date with Rhett Hennessy, and he had made a freaking reservation. I wasn’t sure why that struck me as even more surreal, but it did.

  “Of course, Mr. Hennessy. If you would follow me upstairs, I’ll show you and your guest to your table.”

  The woman led us toward a shiny silver elevator that carried us to the top floor of the building. When the door opened, she held out an arm. “Right this way, please.”

  I stepped out of the elevator to be amazed by an incredible view through the walls of glass of downtown New Orleans and the Mississippi River beyond. “Wow.”

  The woman turned toward me. “Wait until the sun sets. It’s magnificent. With our solid glass walls and height, you get a three-hundred-sixty-degree view. We’re very proud of our renovated space.”

  “I can see why. It’s phenomenal.”

  Rhett squeezed my hand, and I knew this place would always be special to me. No matter what happened for the rest of the evening, I would remember it forever.

  22

  Rhett

  Ari’s wide gray eyes scanned every detail, taking them all in. Despite the sweet building and killer view, I was way more interested in studying her. This building would stand for a century or more, but I had no idea how long I’d get with Ari. I’d already wasted years, so I wasn’t about to waste another minute.

  “As you requested, Mr. Hennessy, we have a table for you in the corner.” The hostess led us toward a table that had a decent amount of privacy, for which I was grateful. “Is this acceptable, sir?”

  Ari’s surprised gaze was already on me, as though she was shocked that I’d request something private. We might have known each other for years, but we still had a lot to learn about each other. One thing she’d quickly figure out was that I planned to take every advantage of our limited time together and make the most of it.

  “It’s great. Thank you.”

  The hostess motioned to a piece of wood on the table between us, which looked like a section of a stave from a whiskey barrel. Burned into it was the whiskey tasting list. “I’ll leave you with this for now. Your server will bring you the cocktail menu and a list of tonight’s specials.” She left us with a smile as Ari and I slid onto the high stools of the tall table.

  “This place is really nice and so unique. Thank you for bringing me here.”

  “I figured I’d have to get creative to impress the girl who has hundreds of fancy California restaurants to choose from on any given day.”

  Ari laughed. “And I rarely see the inside of those restaurants because I’m too busy working. I can usually identify their take-out containers, though. I see those too often.”

  My little workaholic. “What do you do besides work? I know you’ve got some self-defense skills that you practice regularly, but tell me about your other hobbies.”

  “Hobbies? Like things I do in my free time?” She sounded completely confused by the concept.

  “Pretty sure that’s the definition.”

  This time she threw back her head and laughed. The deep throaty chuckle hit me right in the chest . . . and elsewhere. I shifted on my seat to make sure my thin dress pants didn’t strangle my dick.

  “Free time isn’t exactly something I have. If I could create a thirty-hour day, I might have time for both sleep and fun.”

  The thought of Ari never taking time to enjoy life bothered me, which was ironic since I didn’t do it often either.

  “You have to do something to blow off steam or keep you entertained when you take a break from work.”

  A guilty look flashed over her face, and an image of her masturbating behind a big desk slammed into my mind. In my fantasy, her head was thrown back as she came, and my name was on her lips. Fuck, now my dick was rock hard. Thankful for the table blocking her view, I pushed the image out of my head. Or at least I tried.

  “What was that thought?” I asked, my voice coming out with a husky edge I couldn’t control.

  “Nothing.”

  Ari snatched up the whiskey menu and scanned it. I tugged it out of her grip, taking possession of her hand and squeezing until her gaze locked with mine.

  “Tell me.”

  She attempted an innocent, confused expression, but she wasn’t good enough at it. She swallowed, but didn’t break our stare. “Sometimes I play around on the computer.”

  It made sense because she was the ultimate computer nerd, but why would that send guilty signals?

  “Wait, you watch porn?”

  Her mouth dropped open. “No! I mean, yes, but I was talking about hacking.”

  Hacking? “What the hell?”

  Her gaze darted from side to side and she leaned closer to me. “You can’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to go to jail. Or you know, federal prison. It’s not like I do anything bad. It’s more to make sure my skills stay up to par. It’s like a foreign language—if you don’t use it, you lose it. And, obviously, I like to make sure my conspiracy theories aren’t crazy, but in fact are reality. If people only knew . . .”

  “You’ve gotta be joking.”

  Her brow furrowed. “No joke. I’ve been doing it for years. Just ask Kim Leander. She’s been on the enhanced screening list since I learned to get into the TSA.”

  “Are you frigging serious?”

  “That Kim Leander gets a more-than-friendly pat-down and bag search every month when she travels for work? Yes. Yes, I am.”

  A mental picture of what Ari described filtered into my mind and I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re ruthless.”

  She shrugged. “Long memory. No one screws with the people I care about and gets away with it. I can make someone’s life a nightmare. She shouldn’t have lied.”

  “I’m not sure whether to be scared or impressed.”

  Another shrug from Ari. “It’s not like it’s hard. Any amateur could do it.”

  I was sure that wasn’t really the case, but before I could respond, our server arrived at the table.

  “Welcome to Seven Sinners, we’re so happy to have you join us. Can I get you a complimentary taste of any of our whiskeys this evening? We have some fabulous ones available for you.”

  Clearly wanting to change the subject after her confession, Ari asked, “What would you recommend?”

  “Are you a whiskey drinker, ma’am?” When Ari shook her head, our server smiled. “Then I’d recommend a glass of the Spirit of New Orleans. It’s smooth and warm with a nice kick, but not too hot. You’ll enjoy it, even if you’re not normally a fan of whiskey. It’s my favorite of everything we offer.”

  “I’ll try that.”

  “Excellent.” The server looked to me. “And for you, sir?”

  “I’ll try the single malt.”

  “Perfect. I’ll bring those to you along with today’s menu and water.”

  When our server disappeared again, my attention was one hundred percent focused on Ari. “Tell me more about the hacking.”

  She shook her head. “I’d rather not. It’s not a big deal. Just something I do when I feel like entertaining myself. The only useful aspect is when I find ways to keep other people out because I’m better than they are.”

  One thing Ari was never shy about was how smart she was. “Like the hackers the Feds arrest and then later hire to make their systems impenetrable?”

  “In theory. But nothing is truly hack-proof. There’s always someone out there who can beat it, at least so far.”

  It was as good a moment as any to find out exactly how much time I had with her. �
��When are you going back to the land of sun and surf and hacking?”

  My question must have surprised her. She didn’t answer right away; instead, her expression fell and she looked out the window.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Dad. I don’t know what to do to get him to agree to go in for testing so we can figure out the next steps.”

  Heath had talked about it at breakfast. Mr. Sampson was worse off than either of them had realized.

  “Keep trying, I guess. It seems like that’s all you can do. Assess the situation and make decisions based on what you learn.”

  Her gaze cut back to me. “I spent so many years away and I missed him being himself, and now he’s . . . not. I feel like I should’ve been here the whole time. I can’t leave again. It’s like I’d be abandoning my family, which I guess I already did.”

  Her expression was so crestfallen that I wanted to wrap her in a hug. Instead, I reached out and twined my fingers with hers.

  “If anyone at this table should feel guilty about abandoning family, it’s me. I walked when it came out that my dad was a dirty cop. I didn’t answer the phone when he called for an entire fucking year. That was being a shitty son. You were out living your life and making your mark. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”

  I kept the but I sure as fuck do to myself. It went without saying that I’d fucked up in a big way, and that was something I’d have to live with for the rest of my life.

  Ari threaded her fingers through mine. “You were dealing the best way you knew how. I couldn’t imagine how it felt to find out that everything you thought was . . . wrong. He betrayed you, Rhett. Betrayed everything he taught you to hold sacred. You reacted. I understand wanting a chance to go back, but you can’t crucify yourself for what you did for the rest of your life. I know your dad wouldn’t want that.”

  I heard the logic in her words, but that didn’t mean I believed it. I flipped it back on her anyway. “And your dad wouldn’t want you to feel guilty for living. He’s always been so damn proud of you. I feel like I haven’t missed out on many of your accomplishments because your dad was always bragging to Heath and me about how you were kicking ass.”

  A wobbly smile formed on her lips. “Really?”

  “Really. He wanted the best for you, and you went out and made the best life you could. There’s nothing to feel bad about.”

  “I’ll believe it if you will.”

  I was saved from having to respond when our server returned with our whiskey and menus. The restaurant offered Creole and Irish fare, and Ari picked the shrimp and I went for the oysters.

  After the server retreated, Ari picked up her whiskey and sniffed. Before she could lift it to her lips, I raised my glass.

  “To a long overdue date.”

  A smile flitted over her features. “I can drink to that.”

  23

  Ariel

  Be cool, Ari. Act like an adult who has it all together. Because you are. Don’t think about that toast . . .

  “What exactly have you been doing for the last year?” I lowered my whiskey glass to the table.

  Rhett sipped his, and if the abrupt change in subject threw him, he didn’t let it show. “PI work. Mostly surveillance on spouses suspected of cheating.”

  “Wow. That has to be a little depressing.” I picked up my drink again and tipped some back, the heat from the liquor warming a path down my throat.

  Rhett shrugged. “Yes and no. What’s depressing is the fact that there’s no trust between them, and they get to the point where they feel like hiring someone is all they can do. Honestly, they could save themselves a lot of grief by just asking the other person where the hell they’re going.”

  It sounded like there was a story there. “What do you mean?”

  Rhett picked up his drink again. “I had one client who swore up and down her husband had to be cheating on her because he was gone the same time every week and withdrawing cash from the ATM on the same day. She told me it had to be a hooker, but she wasn’t going to file for divorce without proof.”

  “Oh my God. That’s terrible.” After the way things ended with Carlos, I never wanted to deal with a situation like that ever again, and we hadn’t had anywhere near that level of commitment between us.

  Rhett tilted his head. “Only if you don’t trust your husband enough to ask him where he’s going.”

  “What was he doing?” My curiosity piqued, I leaned back in my chair, my glass poised to take another sip.

  “Laser hair removal on his back. Technician I talked to after I got the pictures said he felt self-conscious when his wife called him a wooly mammoth on the beach, so he wanted to be ready for summer.”

  I laughed, choking on my drink and practically spitting it onto the table. “Oh my God. You’re joking.”

  “No, definitely not joking. She cried a lot and apologized. They booked a cruise to the Bahamas as a second honeymoon.”

  “Wow. That’s better than the alternative.”

  He nodded. “For sure. Plenty of the cases end up using my photos for evidence in divorce proceedings, which is depressing as hell. The best cases are the ones where I’m able to prove that they’re not doing anything wrong. Like the guy sneaking away to play bingo to try to win his wife a new car.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Dead serious. I can’t make this stuff up, and these aren’t even the crazier stories.”

  “Tell me the crazy.”

  Rhett studied me for a moment. “You sure you want to hear this?”

  “Of course. It’s fascinating. I’ve never understood people, but I still find them interesting.”

  He took another sip and settled back in his chair. “My favorite client was a guy who joined the military when he was eighteen. He went off to boot camp and ended up going to war, and didn’t make it home to find his girl for almost twenty years.”

  “Oh my God.” Sympathy washed through me, rivaling the heat of the alcohol.

  “Yeah. Vietnam POW. The kind of thing you’d see movies about. He was messed up when he got out, and it took him a long time to pull himself together to the point where he felt he even had the right to go looking for her.”

  I shook my head, unable to imagine what it would have been like. “What happened?”

  “He looked for her but the trail was cold. She’d left town and disappeared. No one knew where she went. He called in favors, and someone led him to me.”

  “You found her?”

  Rhett’s lips tugged up in a smile. “Are you going to let me tell the story? You’re just as impatient as you’ve always been.”

  I grinned sheepishly. Impatience was a fault I’d openly own and would probably never overcome, and I was perfectly okay with that. “Tell your story.”

  He took a sip and then continued. “I had a hell of a time finding leads, until one day it occurred to me why someone would disappear in that day and age.” He looked pointedly at me. “Go ahead. I know you want to guess.”

  Rhett knew me well. “She was pregnant, wasn’t she?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, she was. The reason he couldn’t find her was because she changed her last name—to his. Said she was a soldier’s widow so her son wouldn’t bear the burden of being raised by an unwed mother. When I tracked them down, he was in college. I found him first. He could’ve passed as his dad when he’d gone off to war. When I showed the surveillance pictures of the kid to my client, he broke down and cried in front of me. Couldn’t believe he had a son he’d never known, but was so damn happy she’d raised him as his.”

  I was practically bouncing in my seat to know what happened next, but I was exercising a modicum of patience.

  “When I told him she’d never remarried, never dated, and still wore her POW/MIA bracelet with his name on it every day, he was stunned. It devastated him that she’d been alone for so long, but at the same time, he was amazed at her loyalty to his memory.”

  My patience dried up. “What happened next?”<
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  “I contacted her and told her that he was alive. She bawled in my arms and begged to see him. When I told her he was waiting in a car out front, you would’ve thought I told her the house was on fire. She barely looked at me before she ran. She threw herself into his arms, and he caught her and held her tight. They stood in her little front yard for an hour, not saying anything.”

  Unable to hold them in, I felt tears slip down my cheeks. The image was too powerful. “That’s amazing.”

  “It was. I’m not too proud to admit I shed a few tears watching them together. It was absolutely incredible. Made me believe that things can last, even after all the cheating and bullshit I had to deal with on a daily basis.”

  For someone like Rhett who prized honor and loyalty, the job sounded horrible. I was glad he’d had some cases that restored his faith in humanity. “Did he meet his son?”

  Rhett nodded. “I wasn’t there for that reunion, but the client wrote me a letter a couple days later telling me he didn’t get his life back when they released him from captivity. He got his life back when I found his world. I framed it. Reminded me that what I did mattered.”

  I snuffled and lifted my cloth napkin to my eyes to dab the tears away. “Wow. You gave him his happily-ever-after. That’s huge.”

  Rhett’s smile wobbled, as if recalling what the letter said. “Sometimes it’s the little things that make it all worth it.”

  “I’d say that was a big thing.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

  As I dealt with my tears, trying to pull myself together after his emotional story, our server arrived with our entrées.

  “Ma’am, are you okay?”

  “Totally fine. Don’t mind me.”

  She settled our beautifully plated food in front of us and disappeared just as quickly. Before I picked up my fork, I had to ask the question hovering on my tongue.

  “What do you want to do? I mean, after you find out what happened with your dad. Do you want to join the police force again, or keep doing PI work?”

 

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