Little White Lies

by Lizzie Shane

  Then she glanced down at the message on her phone and forgot all about food. “Shit.”

  *

  Ren heard the door to the suite open as he was shaving and elbowed open the door to the bathroom so he could see Candy in the mirror as he finished. “Did you find us sustenance?”

  She juggled a plate of pastries and a couple coffee cups, but there was a new tension in her expression, lines tightening the sides of her mouth that made his stomach drop. ‘Unfortunately, that wasn’t all I found.”

  He met her eyes in the mirror as he scraped the razor over his face, lifting one eyebrow questioningly.

  She grimaced. “Alicia figured out who you are.”

  Ren cursed under his breath, his hands stilling momentarily at the news. So that was it then. His secret was out. And he felt…

  Relieved?

  He remembered the fear of being found out from when he was small, the nightmares about paparazzi chasing him down the street, but now all he felt was a muted sense that maybe it was time. Maybe his own lies had been keeping him from truly living his life the same way Candy’s had. Until his entire life had become about keeping a secret that didn’t need to be kept anymore.

  Candy was still speaking in the other room, using her hands now after setting down the breakfast offerings on a side table. “I think I convinced her to keep it quiet, but with Alicia you can never be sure. She takes too much pleasure in being the one who knows all the good gossip. And I’m not sure what will happen if I speak to my father about this trade snafu thing and he can’t help. I honestly don’t know her well enough to know if she would go to the tabloids.” She shook her head, pacing. “I’m sorry, Ren. I should never have brought you here. If I hadn’t, no one would have suspected. If I’d just been honest—”

  Then he would still be with Jessica, pretending he could make it work, and Candy would still be shutting him out. “It’s okay.”

  She looked at him in the mirror as if he was crazy. “Ren. Alicia knows.”

  He grabbed a towel to wipe away the stray shaving cream. “I heard you.” He shrugged, flipping the hand towel back onto its hook. “Maybe it’s time I stopped lying about my name.”

  “Are you serious?”

  He stepped out of the bathroom, catching her mid-pace and gathering her into his arms. “It was necessary when I was young. It gave me a chance to be my own man when I was still figuring out who that was, but I know who I am now and if other people do too, maybe it’s a good thing, in the long run.”

  She frowned. “So I shouldn’t talk to my father about a potentially illegal use of diplomatic connections for Alicia’s father?”

  “I don’t know about that, but you shouldn’t do it for me.” She was still stiff in his arms and he gave her a gentle shake. “Candy, it’s okay.”

  “There’s something else.”

  Her dark tone warned him that this was going to be much worse.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  About a year ago…

  Candy frowned at the squirming, wiggling bundle of fur in Ren’s lap. “That’s a puppy.”

  “Good eye.” He grinned at her over the soft, tiny head as the puppy gazed at him adoringly with giant liquid eyes.

  She’d let herself into Pretty Boy’s place, only to find him sitting on the floor with a furry mop tumbling all over him.

  “You got a puppy.”

  “Her name is Wicket. The breeders had a croquet set up in the back yard and she kept getting herself stuck in the wickets. Isn’t she adorable?”

  She didn’t look big enough to get stuck in a wicket. And if she did it repeatedly, how smart could she be? “Cute,” Candy said, knowing she sounded insincere.

  “Do you want to hold her?” Ren lifted up the squirming, licking handful.

  Candy held out her hands like he’d just told her to stick ‘em up. “Nope. I’m good. Thanks.”

  “Come on,” he coaxed. “She doesn’t bite. She’s a lover, not a fighter. Aren’t you, Wicket?”

  The dog demonstrated her character by licking every inch of Ren’s face she could reach, making him laugh.

  Hot man with cute puppy. If he filmed this, he’d probably go viral on YouTube.

  “I’ve never had a dog—” And she didn’t want one. Especially not one with him.

  Aiden and Chloe had gotten a dog right before Chloe got pregnant. They’d called it their “practice baby.” Dogs were a commitment. Dogs were permanent, and things were already moving too quickly in that direction as it was. She liked the status quo with Ren. She didn’t want to go adding puppies to the mix. Especially if the puppy was going to pee all over the carpet and chew on all the furniture.

  “You’re going to fall for her,” Ren assured her as the puppy flopped onto the floor, exhausted by the play. “Trust me. Wicket is irresistible.”

  She was. The perfect dog to go with the perfect man in the perfect house. But Candy didn’t deserve such perfection. She’d only screw it up.

  Some things were inevitable.

  *

  Present day…

  “It’s about those calls. The ones from your parents’ foundation.” Candy stepped out of his arms and moved away, needing to give him breathing room for what she was about to tell him.

  “That guy who was calling EP?” His frown didn’t reach his eyes, like whatever the bad news was, he’d already accepted it and moved on. “Don’t tell me. He’s a reporter and he already has the story.”

  She grimaced. If only it were so simple. “That’s what I assumed, so I sort of figured out who he was and hacked him to try to learn what he knew. His work computer didn’t show any red flags so I broadened my search—sending him a Trojan horse so I could access his phone, home computer, all of it, but it looked like he really was an accountant. I thought maybe someone else had used his computer, so I dug into other people at the foundation.”

  He shook his head, grinning. “You’re telling me you hacked my parents’ foundation. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

  “I was trying to figure out why someone would call EP looking for Lorenzo Tate Jr. I only wanted to protect you.”

  “I’m not mad, Candy.” He leaned against the wall, folding his arms in a way that made his biceps bulge invitingly. “I’m guessing you’re telling me this because you’ve found something?”

  She nodded. “I know who contacted you. And why.”

  “I’m more curious about how they figured out where I work.”

  “I don’t think they did. Or rather I don’t think he did. Alan Walling. He’s the one who’s been calling us. The accountant.”

  “The one you said had nothing on his computer tying him to me.”

  “He didn’t have anything about you specifically. But he did have something else.”

  Ren shook his head, starting to look frustrated by her prevarication. “Rip the band-aid off, Candy. Whatever it is, I’m sure it isn’t that bad.”

  Famous last words. “Alan Walling found evidence that someone has been embezzling from your parents’ charitable foundation for the last eight years. To the tune of four hundred and thirty-seven thousand dollars.”

  All traces of humor evaporated from Ren’s face. “Holy shit. Why didn’t he call the cops?”

  “I wondered the same thing. He has this file on his computer where he keeps track of the discrepancies. That’s where he had written the EP phone number and what looked like an account number. The account where the money was going. I think he might have suspected it was yours—or rather Lorenzo Tate Jr’s. Maybe he was going to blackmail you? Maybe make sure it wasn’t some legitimate thing before he blew the whistle and lost his job, I don’t know. I just know that I asked a friend of mine who specializes in financials to see what he could find out about the account where the money was going and today he gave me a name.”

  He was already shaking his head, like he knew what was coming.

  “Ren, it was your uncle. It was Javi.”

  *

  “You’re wrong.”
Ren shook his head. “You misunderstood. Or the Walling guy misunderstood. You said yourself it could be a legitimate account for the foundation.” He shoved away from the wall, pacing as much as she had when she first came in. Candy, in contrast, stayed very still, gripping the back of a chair as she spoke.

  “He put your name on the account, Ren. He made it look like you were the one stealing so if anyone found out you would be the one in trouble. My friend had to dig through a dozen shell companies to trace it back to Javi. Honestly, I would never have guessed he knew how to cover his tracks so well.”

  “If someone could make it look like it was me, then the same person could make it look like it was him. What do we know about this Walling guy?”

  “Ren. My friend looked into your uncle’s financials. He’s been spending more than he brought in for a long time. This is the only explanation that makes sense as to why he hasn’t declared bankruptcy three times already.”

  Ren shook his head, raking a hand through his hair. “I know you’ve never liked him—”

  “That isn’t what this is about! He’s been stealing from your parents’ charity and blaming you for it. For all we know he’s been stealing from you, too.”

  “He can’t,” Ren snapped. The trust was air-tight. His father’s lawyers had made sure of that. Javi had never been able to touch it.

  Something Javi had always resented. Shit.

  He wouldn’t.

  Would he?

  Candy came around the chair, approaching him slowly. “He’s been siphoning money off for years. It looks like he was paying off the old accountant, but since that guy went into rehab his assistant—Walling—found some irregularities. We’re just lucky it hasn’t already gotten out. Now you can control it, keep from being implicated—”

  “By throwing Javi under the bus?”

  “What else do you suggest? Just give him a free pass on stealing half a million dollars? He put your name on the account. Your phone number. He was going to blame you, Ren!”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I know you give him too much slack. You always have.”

  He could feel his face locking down. “He’s family.”

  “So?” she yelped. “That automatically pardons him of all sins? He’s stealing from your parents’ foundation! From charity!”

  “It’s my call. My family. My business.” He looked at her, ice in his veins. “You didn’t want to have a say in my life, remember?”

  She reeled back like he’d hit her. “I’m still your friend.”

  “You don’t understand.” He grabbed one of the reading chairs, gripping the back to keep himself upright. “My mother’s family disowned her when she got pregnant with me. She was the princess—the pampered daughter of a Chinese businessman—and they cut her off without a penny because she dirtied herself by having an illegitimate kid with a mixed-race rocker from America.”

  “Your parents got married—”

  “It didn’t matter. She was dead to them.” He shook his head. “I tried contacting them once, when I was studying in Asia. I was curious what they were like, but they wouldn’t even look at me. All meeting them did was convince me those people had never been my family. They’ve never been there for me. Javi has.”

  “He uses you,” she argued.

  “You don’t know him. You never wanted to. You put him in the self-absorbed washed-up rock star box and never took a second glance. You’re always judging everyone—”

  “That isn’t fair—”

  “Do you remember about ten years ago? It was before we met, so maybe you weren’t paying attention to the celebrity gossip about my family back then, but there was a period of time when people were coming out of the woodwork, claiming to be bastard kids of Lore Tate. Trying to get their piece of the pie. My grandmother had just died and I was struggling. But Javi took care of it. He pushed the lawyers for the DNA tests that proved they weren’t my father’s children. One of them turned out to be a reporter trying to get close to me, but Javi protected me. He did the interviews. He kept me clean of all of that.”

  Candy shook her head. “He made himself the story. He made himself the hero who protected your father’s memory. It was all about him fighting off those who would try to abuse your parents’ fortune and your trust. He was only trying to get another five minutes of fame. And now he’s the one stealing from you.”

  “We don’t know that for sure.” He shook his head, suddenly exhausted by the argument. “And even if it is true… He isn’t a saint, but he’s all I have.”

  “No. He isn’t. You have Elite Protection. You have Max.” She paused and he saw her throat work as she swallowed. “You have me.”

  “Do I?” The words were blunt enough to make her freeze. He rounded the chair, closing in on her. “Do I have you, Candy?”

  He was close enough to see the flash of fear in her eyes, the panic.

  “Of course you do,” she whispered. “We’re friends.”

  A disgusted huff of laughter and a weary smile. “Of course we are.”

  God forbid they be anything else. Anything more. Even after last night and as far as they’d come. God forbid the Ice Queen let him in.

  Suddenly he wanted nothing to do with her. Wanted to be anywhere but here.

  “I’ve got to get out of here.” He shoved his feet into his shoes and grabbed the keys to the rental car off the dresser.

  “Ren…”

  He turned at the door, too frustrated to give her an easy out this time. “Just give me space, Candy. That’s what you’re good at, right?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  A little less than a year ago…

  “Oooh!”

  Ren half-groaned, half-cheered with Tank as the two of them watched Candy flip Cross over her shoulder, using his momentum to slam him flat on his back on the mat. They never missed a chance to watch Candy’s weekly schooling of Cross, but this week his usual enjoyment had been stripped out of the activity.

  The new guy, Dylan, stood next to Tank, quizzing him about the ritual beat down, but Ren tuned him out, focused instead on the battle on the mat as Cross leapt to his feet and charged.

  Rookie mistake.

  Candy had him in a choke hold and tapping out in under a minute—but Cross fought through every second of it and Ren ground his molars as he watched them thrash.

  Cross was twice her size. Even knowing she could take care of herself didn’t guarantee that she wouldn’t get hurt—but if he let on that he cared, if he dared to worry about her, he’d be the bad guy. The one who wasn’t playing by the rules.

  Pushing. And God forbid he push. God forbid he want her to actually acknowledge what they were to each other.

  The whole thing pissed him off. They’d fought about it again last night.

  “You’re still telegraphing everything you do,” Candy coached as she climbed off Cross’s back.

  Ren bit his tongue as she gave her pupil pointers, waiting to comment until she’d sent Cross to the showers and moved to grab the towel on the bench beside him. “He almost had you with that leg sweep.”

  “He’s improving.” She swiped at the moisture on her neck and fluttered her lashes. “You sure you don’t want to try to take me? I promise to go easy on you.”

  He met her eyes without smiling, letting her see the heat in his gaze, making sure she knew if they started to grapple it wasn’t going to end with anyone tapping out.

  Adam broke into the eye-fucking before it could get indecent, asking Candy why she wasn’t kicking ass in the field. She turned away from Ren, flashing a smile at Adam, and it took a moment for his hormones to quiet down enough for him to focus on her words.

  “Most men don’t want to challenge Tank—” She nodded to the big man. “But they underestimate me. Which is kinda awesome in its own way, but it makes me less effective as a deterrent. So I hang around here, play with my toys and rule the world from my digital lair while you guys get to play with the celebrities. But fair warning
, if we ever get hired to guard Ryan Reynolds, I am taking each one of you out if that’s what it takes to get that contract.”

  Ren snorted—he knew for a fact she thought The Rock was hotter than Reynolds. The sound drew Candy’s gaze, and a sultry purr, “Don’t be jealous, Pretty Boy. I’ll still let you join my man harem.”

  Ren just smiled, but five minutes later, when Adam had been called up to talk to the boss and Tank was busy setting up the weight room, he found her in the changing room, locking the door behind him. “Man harem?”

  She’d stripped off her tank top and turned to him, wearing just her sports bra, shorts and a wicked smile. “Would you like to audition for a spot?”

  “I better already have a spot. And it had better be the only one.”

  She boosted herself up on the counter. “I’m willing to be persuaded…”

  *

  Present day…

  Candy sank down onto the bed, staring across the room at where the pastries and coffee sat innocently on the dresser—a reminder of the way the day could have gone.

  They could have grabbed a quick breakfast together before sneaking off to the coast, leaving family drama behind and pretending they were normal lovers who held hands on the boardwalk and stole a kiss with their toes in the sand.

  So much for that fantasy. Reality had different plans.

  Some days she genuinely hated Ren’s uncle.

  It didn’t matter what Javi did, how much of a user he proved himself to be. Ren pardoned him of every crime before he could commit it by waving around that magic word: family. It was Javi’s get out of jail free card—in this case possibly quite literally.

  But Ren was right. Her instincts could tell her to protect him all she wanted, but she didn’t have the right to do it. She didn’t have any say in his life. And that was how she’d wanted it—wasn’t it?

  Her musings were interrupted by a shout from the front drive and Candy rushed to the window, her heart leaping up to her throat in the hope that she might see Ren before he could drive away, but it wasn’t her “husband” facing down her father in the driveway.