Web of Lies

by Elizabeth Knox

  Love and Thongs

  “So, what do you think?” Audrey asked, as she chewed on the skin around her thumbnail. Ian could tell she was anxious to know what he thought about her latest article, but he was more struck by the fact that she admitted she was a freak in bed. His insides sang to life as he reread her words, and it was extremely difficult to keep his feelings off his face. Holy shit. On the outside, Audrey was a strait-laced, laser-focused career woman. But deep down, she was a beast in the sheets? How was that even possible? “Forget it,” she snatched the paper copy from his fingers, almost causing a papercut.

  “I was going over it again,” he lied. “Looked like a grammatical error,” Ian said while stumbling over his words.

  “Whatever. You don’t like it and that’s fine.” Hurt crossed her features and at that moment, all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms, comforting her. But that wouldn’t happen.

  “No, I like it. It’s great.” He half-smiled. “The part about handcuffs, was—,” he paused.

  “Oh that? It’s fluff. I’m not all whips and chains. If my sexual preferences were a color, they would be between opaque and clear.”

  “Then why lie?” he asked.

  “Because lies make the world go round. Right? We lie every day.” She laughed.

  “But wouldn’t it be better for your readers if you were honest? Wouldn’t more of them relate to you?” Ian wasn’t sure why he was on a high horse about lying. Hell, he was the poster child for falsities at the moment.

  “Everything we know is built on fiction. Take bottled water for instance, you know it’s just tap water in a fancy bottle, right?” she crossed her arms over her chest and pinned him with a glare. You’d think she was pitching a nuclear peace treaty instead of making a point about an underestimated beverage option.

  “Why is everything a damn argument with you?” Ian raised his voice, her eyebrows shooting upward in surprise. “Why can’t you just take my opinion at face value instead of disappointing me about the water I drink?”

  “Don’t yell at me,” she huffed.

  That was it. He’d had enough of her self-righteous BS and it was time to put a stop to it. “You are aware that there are more people on this planet than you, correct?” he rounded the desk, backing her into a corner.

  “Don’t be stupid, of course I do.” She scoffed.

  “Good. Then you also know that your views and opinions on things won’t always match up to those around you.” She nodded as he stepped toe to toe with her. “It might be a good idea to show the real you, even in your writing. If you want to be fucked vanilla, say that. If you want a man to hold you down and make you scream, say that.” He pressed his chest to hers. “How about the truth? Which is it, Audrey?”

  Her breaths came out panting as if he’d sucked the air right out of the room with his statements and questions. Never before had Ian found a woman to be so challenging and utterly frustrating. She was a pain in the ass and for some reason, it hit his hot buttons like no other. Rational thought escaped his mind as he used his fingers to grip her hips, pushing her to the wall. Her scent enveloped him, making his want amplify to unearthly need. One taste. That’s all he needed, right? One swipe of his tongue across her plump, sassy lips and he would be a satisfied man. Yes. That would do it.

  “What are you doing?” with his eyes half-lidded, he felt her palms shove at his chest, pushing him back until his ass hit the edge of the desk.

  “Wait, what?” confusion set in, as the blood tried to work its way from his groin to his brain once more.

  “This is just weird, I mean, you’re gay, right?” the panicked expression she wore clued him in, bringing him to reality with a slamming motion.

  “Of, of course I am,” Ian smoothed his tie while looking away from her.

  “Then why are you coming onto me?” she chuckled.

  Think fast. He thought. “I uh,” he couldn’t finish. “Excuse me, I need to get some air.”

  As soon as he was out of her office, Ian felt a rush of relief. What he’d done could’ve ruined everything in a matter of seconds. He needed a few moments to think— to clear his head from the fog that’d taken over when he was near Audrey. The men’s room was his target and he was determined to stay in there until his body returned back to its dull self. As he pushed through the door of the restroom, Ian looked around, making sure he was alone— his investigation included the classic ducking down to see if any of the three stalls were occupied as well. Once he confirmed his solitude, he let out a pent-up breath. It was sad that even the pungent smells of urinal cakes and industrial hand soap couldn’t get the scent of Audrey from his mind. The sugary fragrance of ripe peaches flitted around him like a thousand dragonflies, toying with his emotions. Peaches were great, slathered in fresh whipped cream. “Damn it,” he pounded his fists on the counter, a slight pain shooting through his fingers. Closing his eyes, Ian braced his palms on the marble, mentally willing his encounter away. But when he lifted his head, then looked into the mirror, he knew he was in trouble. He liked Audrey and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. “Well, this is complicated,” he whispered to his reflection.

  “It was weird, Pat,” Audrey whispered into her phone. After Ian had all but sprinted from her office, she called the one person she could always count on for advice, her brother.

  “I’m telling you, he’s not gay, Aud,” she hated the shortened version of her name that he often used.

  “Could it be, he’s just, I don’t know, confused?” she asked while peeking out the door, making sure Ian wasn’t within earshot.

  “Yeah, confused about whether to fuck you or run away. I mean, who wouldn’t be?” Patrick laughed.

  “Ew, don’t be crude.” She scrunched up her nose.

  “Then don’t be a prude.” He retorted.

  “This conversation is like nailing Jell-O to a tree.” She let out a sigh. “I have an idea.”

  “Oh here it comes,” Patrick groaned.

  “Hear me out. You take him to one of your clubs or whatever. Feel him out, ya know?” she suggested.

  “I’d love to feel him out, but I’m telling you, he doesn’t bat for my team, Sis.”

  “Can you just do me this favor? I promise I won’t ask you for anything else.” She pleaded, hoping her brother would take pity on her and her predicament.

  After a few moments of silence, Patrick finally responded. “Fine. But I think it’s better if I surprise him. I’ll show up at your office this afternoon and kidnap him. He’ll have no other choice but to come with me.”

  “Sounds good. But don’t use the word kidnap. You’re not luring children into a white van by way of candy.” She chuckled.

  “Oh honey, I prefer to lure my men with baby oil and promises of lustful evenings.” He said right before the line went dead.

  “Hey, sorry about that, I needed a break,” Ian stood in the doorway of her office, looking yummy enough to put between two slices of bread.

  “Stop that!” she shouted before she realized her outburst should’ve been an inner thought.

  “What did I do?” his eyes went wide, concern lacing his features.

  “Nothing.” Breaking eye contact, Audrey took a seat behind her desk, hoping it would shield her. Not so much. Even with the massive wooden furniture as a barrier, she felt as if she were on a stage naked, in front of spelling bee spectators.

  “So, earlier,” he began, “can we forget that happened? I’d rather not have a sexual harassment case against me,” Ian sat down in the chair across from her.

  Fumbling with some papers, she muttered, “Yeah, I think so. Good idea.”

  “This isn’t going to be weird is it?” he asked.

  “Um, nah.” She shrugged. What in the fresh hell was wrong with her? Never before had she acted like a pre-pubescent kid that just passed her first love note in class. Gathering her composure she managed to add, “What I meant to say is, no. Everything is fine and we should get back to work.” She n
odded.

  “Then what’s on the agenda?”

  “How about you write a piece? I can read over it and give you some tips if you want.” She smiled. Honestly, she was giving him busy work to keep him at a distance. If he concentrated on something, it would keep him away and her mind off of him.

  “Sure, I can do that.”

  “There’s an empty office at the end of the hall. Take that one and write to your heart's content,” she motioned to the door.

  Ian stood from his seat but didn’t move toward the door. Audrey could have kicked her own ass because all she managed to do was stare at the crotch of his slacks. Would it drive him crazy if she slid her fingers over the front of them? Would he groan with lust as she palmed him firmly in her hand?

  “Excuse me?” Ian asked, ripping her from her salacious thoughts.

  “I didn’t say anything,” her eyes darted around the room, looking anywhere but Ian’s zipper.

  “You said you want me.”

  Oh God, did she really say that . . . out loud? This could not be happening right now. Think fast. “Yes, I said I want you to go write something. That’s exactly what I said.”

  “Then I’ll do just that,” he flashed her a knowing smile as he left the room.

  When he was out of sight, Audrey slouched in her chair and blew out a breath. “Well, that’s the first gay man who’s ever driven me crazy. I sure know how to pick them.”

  Chapter Four

  It had been a few hours since Audrey heard from Ian who was hopefully diligently working on an article down the hall. She wanted to use the time to get some work done but ended up doing nothing but thinking about her new co-worker the entire time. Heck, at one point she escaped to the bathroom just to splash cool water over her face. It didn’t help her situation in the least. Most of her time was spent mulling over what Patrick had said about Ian not being gay. It didn’t make sense. There was no reason to pretend to be something you weren’t, was there? She thought back to their first encounter when she noticed his expensive clothing and shoes. Surely, he didn’t say he was gay just because he didn’t want to admit he was wealthy, did he? That would be insane, right? Human beings had different motives in their lives, but it was confusing to think that if Ian were rich, he would want to hide it. “If I had money I would be shouting it from the rooftops,” she laughed to herself. “Unless I didn’t want anyone to know who I really was,” the lightbulb of recognition flickered in her brain. Was that it? Was Ian famous or something? She hadn’t caught his last name when they were first introduced, maybe that would give her a clue to who he really was. Time to pay a visit to HR.

  “Hey Gloria,” Audrey knocked on the doorframe of the HR manager’s office.

  The jovial Cuban woman was always ready with a smile on her face. “Hey Chicca,” she greeted.

  “Mr. Banks sent me down to grab a copy of the new hire’s W4 form.” She lied.

  “The old man usually calls down for information like that.” Gloria’s eyebrows raised.

  “I know, he’s in a meeting. But I promise, I’ll take it right to his secretary.” She flashed a sweet smile.

  “You know I can get in deep shit for handing over another employee’s personal information, right?” The older woman had worked for the company more than eight years. Audrey hated the fact that what she was doing could get Gloria in trouble. But on the other hand, she had to figure out who Ian really was.

  “This is from the boss’s mouth. I swear.” She held up her hands in a surrender gesture.

  With a deep sigh, Gloria turned to her computer. As her fingers tapped the keys, Audrey nervously glanced out the door to make sure no one was near. It would be just her luck to get caught. “All right, what you need is coming out of the printer now.”

  She waited for the documents to eject from the machine. When they did, she haphazardly gathered them in her hands. “Thanks a bunch.” In a way, it felt like she was in a spy movie, gathering intel to find out who the villain really was. She wasn’t necessarily saying Ian was a bad guy, but if he was lying, she wanted to know why.

  Making her way back to her floor, Audrey held the small stack of papers close to her chest. She ignored the passing glances of the other reporters in the office and made a b-line into hers. Once the door was securely shut, she breathed a sigh of relief. Her palms were sweating, and her heart rate doubled as she sat in her chair and focused on the papers. “Smith?” Ian had listed his last name as Smith. A task she thought would be simple had now thrown her for a loop. There were thousands of Smiths in the greater Miami area, heck, a couple of them were her friends. She scanned down the page for more information.

  "No social security number, hmmm.” She tapped the empty space with her fingertip. “Seems sketchy to me.” With her lips pressed together in a tight line, Audrey landed her finger on his home address, “900 West Avenue, Miami Beach. Penthouse.” Oh, now things were making sense. A struggling journalist who could afford a penthouse apartment, wasn’t that just fabulous. “Maybe it’s a dump,” she quickly turned to her laptop, bringing up the Google search engine. Once she had the address typed in, she hit enter and let the high-speed Wi-Fi do the work. When the page landed on a luxury high rise apartment building, her jaw hit the floor.

  Nope, it wasn’t a dump. In fact, it was Southgate Towers, a place where the elite of Miami lived. The spectacular views overlooking Biscayne Bay alone, were enough to pay the price of the extravagant apartments. Something wasn’t adding up. She was a journalist as well but was relegated to slumming it at a downtrodden complex in Westchester. Talk about life not being fair.

  “All work and no play makes for a dull girl,” she turned her head quickly to see her brother in the doorway.

  “You scared me,” she hurriedly stuffed the papers in the top drawer of her desk.

  “Ooh, were you up to something naughty while at work. So scandalous.” He stepped into the office.

  “No, was just working on a project.” She reached forward, trying to pull her laptop closed before he made his way behind her desk, but she was too late.

  “Dreaming of the finer things in life?” he chuckled.

  “It’s research.”

  “Isn’t that what all writers say about their search history? Watching porn, sex scene research. Looking up the FBI website, suspenseful character research. Face it, all they’re doing is getting off while fantasizing about doing the nasty with a man of the badge.”

  “Would you leave me alone,” she playfully shoved at his side.

  “I will, if you tell me where your newest accessory is.” Patrick held a mischievous smile on his face.

  “Ian is down the hall.” She pointed.

  “I heard my name.” Oh speak of the luxurious devil.

  “I’m here to take you out and show you a good time.” Patrick turned to his date.

  “Me? I um— I have family plans this evening.” Ian said.

  “Too bad, cancel them.”

  Audrey could’ve laughed out loud at the expression on Ian’s handsome face. It was as if he had something to say, but nothing came out of his mouth. In a way he looked like a fish that had been left out of the water too long— his lips opening and shutting in slow motion. “It’s almost five, go ahead.” She insisted.

  Ian glanced around as if he were looking for a quick escape route, but unless he wanted to leap from a tenth-floor window, he was leaving with her eager brother. “Okay, well I sent you what I wrote if you’d like to take a look.”

  “I’ll read it before I leave for the day, thanks.” She couldn’t wait to scan over what was probably subpar work. It would give her just another round of ammunition to get him the heck out of her office. If Mr. Banks thought Ian was a crap writer, he would have no other option but to get rid of him. The quicker she could make that happen, the better for her sanity.

  Once Patrick and Ian were gone, Audrey took a seat once more, preparing herself to read the worst garbage she’d ever read. There wasn’t a shred of an open
mind as she clicked the link in the email from Ian, only drowning doubt. With one last sip of her coffee, she began to read.

  I Want Forever

  Each morning I wake up, looking into a mirror that undoubtedly lies to me. I see a man who is put together and who doesn’t have a care in the world— I know it’s completely fiction. It doesn’t matter how many layers of expensive clothing I pile onto my body, I’m still a solitary, lonely man. For once I’d like to look back at my bed and see a significant other lying there, snoring softly into my pillow, drool and all. I want to cook breakfast for someone, and stare into their eyes as their tongue slides across the fork. I want all of these things, but I don’t know how to get them. How is it that a thirty-six-year-old man in Miami is still single? I’m here to tell you that even as a semi-confident man, I fall short. There’s not a day that goes by when I have the courage to walk up to someone and ask for their phone number or ask them to drinks. More often than not, I’m judged by my outward appearance, and to some, it screams that I’m one to be taken advantage of. So I sit in my confinement, hoping one day the right person will come along and care about me, for me. I want forever with someone that I love, and who loves me in return.

  Ian had written only a little over two hundred words, but those words shed new light on him. Audrey went back, reading the body of the email that she’d previously skipped over.

  Audrey,

  Not much written here but, what is here, is my truth.

  Ian Smith

  Tears filled Audrey’s eyes— she wasn’t an emotional woman when it came to matters of the heart. She’d spent most of her life being indifferent when it came to the L word. Her lasting relationships could be counted on one hand. Even then, you could subtract four from the number and be left with her only meaningful and lasting relationship. Now that she thought about it like that, it was rather depressing. In thirty years she’d said the famous three-letter phrase to only one man. It was too bad that man broke her heart and her spirit like it was his only job on earth.