Sweet Little Lies

by Michele Grant

  An unwilling smile circled the edges of her lovely mouth. “Did I use the word ‘fine’? I don’t recall saying that.”

  “Good.That means you don’t recall any of the other less-than-polite stuff we said earlier. Apologies all around?” I tilted my cocktail glass toward hers as a conciliatory gesture. After a slight pause, she touched her glass to mine.

  “Apologies all around. I’m really not at my best.”

  After a few moments of companionable silence, I decided to address the pink elephant dancing around the first-class cabin.“You want to talk about it?”

  “The wedding death?”

  “Is that what you call it?”

  She shrugged.“Seems accurate.”

  “Okay …wanna talk about the wedding death?”

  She shrugged again. “You are pretty much caught up. He said what he said, you did what you did, I said what I said, and that was that.”

  “You haven’t heard from him since?” I caught her gaze and held it.

  “We—my brothers and I—had some difficulty getting him to remove himself and his things from my house. From my life. But we prevailed in the end.”

  “Did you have his ass kicked?” If ever a man deserved a foot in the ass, her ex did.

  “We decided to skip the ass-kicking, but it was a thought. Still is, really.”

  “Is he still calling?”

  “I don’t know—new phone number, new phone.” She looked back at me unflinchingly.

  I liked that about her. Even after the hellish week she’d had, she still looked a brother in the eye to let him know she was a little bent but not broken.“So what’s next for you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, what will you do to move on?”

  “All I can do is put one foot in front of the other and keep moving. My company, Valiant Publications, is a start-up, but we’re starting to create some buzz, so now seems like a good time to concentrate on my career.”

  “Valiant?” I thought for a second.“They do online magazines?”

  “Yeah, Shades and Webinista 2.0.”

  “You’re a writer?”

  Christina smiled.“Writer and editor, among other things. I wear a few hats. That’s why they pay me the medium-sized bucks. So what are you going back to school for?”

  “Joint master’s and PhD program in transportation science.”

  “From NYU?”

  “Columbia.”

  She raised her brows.“Am I being insulting if I say I’m impressed?”

  I laughed.“No, you are allowed to be impressed.”

  “So what exactly is transportation science?”

  “Simplified, it’s the engineering behind moving people, energy, and things around.”

  She nodded and smiled.“That’s really all delivery is then… transporting things from place A to place B. Hence the career, presumably to save up to go back to school?”

  I nodded.“Exactly.”

  “So will you be trying to design highways or subway systems?”

  I found it refreshing to talk to a sister on an intellectual level. Not that ladies aren’t about their education…. I’ve just met one too many who would rather discuss the latest Drake video. If they asked about my ambitions, it was usually followed by not-so-subtle questions about how much paper I would stack in the long run.“I want to concentrate on energy-efficient, high-speed rail.”

  “Wow. Statewide?”

  “Nationwide.”

  “Converting current systems to light-rail or staying with the old infrastructure?”

  I kind of goggled at her. Usually when I started talking transportation science, people nodded politely and changed the subject quickly. She was genuinely interested.“It’s going to depend on who underwrites the project. Generally, government wants to piggyback on what’s already there. Private-sector funding would allow for more flexibility of design.”

  Christina smiled.“So now you seem surprised.”

  “I am. It’s a rare treat to talk engineering with a sister.”

  “Now who’s making assumptions?”

  I put my hands up. “Guilty. You are clearly an articulate woman to be reckoned with.”

  “Recognize!” she teased, before changing the subject. “What’s the in-flight movie?”

  “Latest Bruce Willis action flick.”We shared an eye-roll.

  “I have an old Spike Lee joint on my laptop if you care to watch?” she offered.

  I raised a brow.“Why did I think you were more of a Tyler Perry girl?”

  She pursed her lips and tilted her head.“Is this payback for me thinking you were a non-degreed delivery dude who couldn’t afford first class?”

  I laughed. “Maybe a little bit. Okay—pact. No more assumptions.”

  “Sold.” She opened her laptop, handed me a set of headphones, plugged in her own, and started the movie.

  4

  It’s Just Breakfast

  Christina—Friday, August 14, 8:30 a.m.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, in preparation for our landing at New York’s LaGuardia Airport, we ask you to turn off all electrical devices, return your carry-on items to under your seat or the overhead bin, stow your tray tables and place your seat backs in the upright position.”

  I jolted awake at the end of the flight attendant’s spiel announcing that we would land in about thirty minutes. There was a stitch in my left side, my neck was at an odd angle, and my hand was resting on something warm and solid. Something warm and solid… that moved. I flinched slightly as a large hand covered mine and patted soothingly.

  “It’s okay, baby, leave it there,” a deep and sleepy voice said.

  I blinked and focused. I was leaning into Steven’s side, my head resting on his shoulder, my hand on his chest. His arm was around me. His eyes were still closed and a slight smile was on his face. He really was gorgeous to look at.

  “Steven,” I said quietly.

  “Hmm?” He turned his chin and kissed my forehead. “Time to wake up?”

  His lips were very, very soft. I was tempted to nuzzle him back just for a minute. No. Uh-uh.Absolutely not. Jay/David’s face popped up in my head and I remembered my pledge—No. More. Men. My official man hiatus could not be derailed by this cutie.“Steven,” I said more firmly, and moved away.

  His eyes flew open. He looked at me, frowned for a second, then moved his arm and straightened up.“Well, that was interesting. Did I maul you? Should I apologize?”

  “Not in the least.We’re all good and we’re about to land.” I used my most crisp, no-nonsense voice and did not meet his eyes.

  He nodded curtly and we both started tucking our belongings away.Where moments ago we had been cuddled together, now there was a distance between us that had nothing to do with the armrests. It was a little awkward.

  “So,” he said tentatively.

  “Yes?”

  “Do you have to rush somewhere when we land, or do you want to grab some breakfast?”

  I paused.Then I said,“Man hiatus.”

  “Beg pardon?”

  “I’m on a man hiatus,” I repeated firmly.

  He burst out laughing…heartily. So much so that others around craned their necks to see what was so funny.

  “Why is that funny?” I asked indignantly.

  “Girl, it’s pancakes. I swear I won’t propose.”

  I rolled my eyes.“But to what end?”

  “Um, nourishment? A little company with your nourishment.”

  I narrowed my eyes.“As long as you know it’s just breakfast. I’m not interested in starting anything.”

  “Healthy ego. Modest girl.”

  “Cautious girl. I’m so off the market right now.”

  “Understood. I would never presume anything else. Especially since you’re fresh out of a relationship, you’re heading back to the Bay and I’m staying here, and you’ve given no indication of being swept off your feet by me.”

  A laugh escaped before I could tamp it down.
“Just so we’re clear.”

  “I will try to avoid falling in love with you over bacon.”

  A thought occurred to me.“How old are you, anyway?”

  “Twenty-six.Why?”

  I groaned. He was a baby.“I’m thirty-two!”

  “Is there an age requirement to split a ham and cheese omelet? Some waffle fries? It’s just breakfast, right?”

  “Right,” I agreed with conviction. While my inner voice thought, What are you doing? Just get your bags, go to the hotel, and be done.

  He looked at me like he knew exactly what I was think-ing.“Okay then. Shall we?”

  Ten minutes later, we stood by the conveyor belt waiting for our bags.We stood in another awkward silence, staring intently at the baggage hutch as if that would make the bags come any faster. Finally, they started sliding out. He pulled a basic black twenty-inch case on wheels off the belt and looked at me.“I’m guessing red.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I’m guessing your suitcase will be red.”

  How did he know that? “Insightful.” I leaned forward to grab a red crocodile-leather bag; he reached around me to get it.

  “C’mon now, I’m a gentleman.” He turned toward the exit door and I followed.

  “Are you now?” Hadn’t seen one of those in a while.

  “Most definitely.Ask my twin sister.”

  “Twin sister? What’s that like? Any superpowers or telepathy?”

  He barked out a laugh.“Just twins, not superheroes.”

  We stepped into the taxi line.“Savannah? Sabrina? Sarah?”

  “Stefani.”

  “Steven and Stefani …” I’d forgotten his last name.

  “Williams.”

  “Okay, Steven Williams, where are we having breakfast?”

  “Madeline’s—midtown.Where are you staying?”

  “Doubletree Metropolitan—midtown.Are you from New York?”

  “Oh no, I’m a Midwest boy. Chi-town.You’re a California girl, right?”

  “Yessir. So how did a Chicago guy end up delivering packages in Alameda, California?”

  He smiled down at me.“That’s a whole lot of interest for someone determined to keep this ‘just breakfast.’”

  Okay, he has me on that one. “Maybe I’m the kind of girl who wants to know who I’m getting in a cab and eating with.”

  “Yeah, you’re that girl all right.” We stepped forward in line.

  “So where’s the rest of your stuff?”

  He looked around.“What stuff?”

  “You’re moving here for the next three… four years?”

  “Hopefully three.”

  “Where’s all your stuff?”

  He smiled at me in a way that told me I was missing some-thing.“I shipped it.”

  “You shipped…of course you did.” I sighed. “I need coffee.”

  We stepped forward again. “We’re getting there. You still need to know my life story first?”

  Before I could answer, my cell phone rang. It was Lisa, my counterpart (nemesis) in the East Coast office.We both started at Valiant at the same time, in the same position.We were determined not to let the other get a step ahead. From Day One it had been an East Coast /West Coast battle to see who could get the better assignments and hold the attention of our senior editor, Jeri. I held up a finger to indicate I needed one second and plastered a fake smile on my face. “Hi, Lisa.What’s going on?”

  In an equally fake voice she responded, “Hey, girl, just checking to see if you made it in.”

  Rolling my eyes, I answered, “Of course. Standing in the taxi line now.What’s up?”

  “The Js want to know if you can swing by for a quick meeting.” Our senior editor was Jeri, she reported to Janet (editor in chief), who co-owned the company with Jennifer (CEO/ CFO). It had become easier to refer to the entire senior management team as the Js.

  Swallowing a sigh, I looked at Steven. He was smiling down at me in the cutest way. He had that youthful, optimistic eye-twinkle thing working. I wondered when the last time was that I had looked that content in the moment. That thought gave me some pause, and a small furrow appeared between my brows.

  Steven dialed back the cute twinkle a little and tilted his head to the side.“Problem?” he mouthed.

  I shrugged one shoulder and nodded…still in pause mode. Enough pause that Lisa started talking again. “I understand if you don’t want to come in, what with your personal drama and all. I’m sure I can handle whatever they need.”

  That snapped me out of my pause and I answered tartly, “You know what? I’m actually great.What time is the meeting?” Steven and I were next in line.

  “As soon as you get here.”

  Our taxi was up. Climbing into the backseat with Steven right behind me, I checked my watch.“Tell them I’ll be there in forty, depending on traffic.” I disconnected, gave the driver the address to my office building, and sighed. “Duty calls—so much for waffle fries.”

  Steven smiled easily at me.“How about dinner instead?”

  That suggestion made me a little uneasy. I turned my head and looked at him consideringly—the eye twinkle was back. “Dinner?”

  “Yes, ma’am.The last meal of the day…that thing one partakes of prior to retiring for the eve? Retiring separately. To our own domiciles. To sleep. Alone presumably, but not with each other. Does that allay your suspicions?”

  “Ha, ha, ha, sir.You know what I mean. Dinner is different from breakfast.”

  “Besides the time of day you eat, in what way exactly? Kindly elaborate.”

  Now I was getting exasperated. I hated having to explain myself. I stewed silently for a few moments.

  He waited silently with one brow raised.

  “Don’t play stupid. Breakfast is oh-we-just-got-off-the-plane-let’s-catch-a-meal. Dinner, especially on a Friday night, is pumps and lip gloss with all appearances of being a date.”

  “Ms. Brinsley, dinner is what you make of it.”

  “What are you trying to make of it?”

  “You brought up the pumps and lip gloss…not me.”

  He had a point. I was more than a little gun-shy, but I enjoyed his company and it would be nice to have a no-strings conversational partner who was easy on the eyes across a dinner table.Truthfully, I wouldn’t mind the ego stroke of his admiring glances and smiling attention. Okay, dammit, I wanted to bask in the twinkle just a little while longer. As long as I kept it casual, it shouldn’t be a problem.“So, Steven, what did you have in mind?”

  “What kind of man would ask you out on a date when you’ve just broken up with your fiancé?”

  “Third fiancé.”

  “Third? Good Lord, woman!” He looked at me like I was a science project to be dissected.

  I sighed.“Long story, but you can understand my need for the man break.”

  “Completely. But c’mon now…I’m not that guy.You’re in Manhattan, I’m in Manhattan—let’s catch a meal. Period.”

  “Um-hmm,” I answered skeptically. Steven seemed like a nice enough guy, but I really wasn’t trying to start anything. I wasn’t trying to do anything but get through this day and the next and the one after that. My thoughts were all over the place. That damn Jay/David had me questioning things that just weren’t that complicated. One minute I wanted the twinkle, the next minute I didn’t want to be bothered. I was a mess. A hot mess, to be exact. With a deep sigh, I leaned back. “Sorry, I’m just so tired.” Physically and emotionally, I was running on fumes.

  He nodded slowly.“That’s why I thought dinner.You have time to go to your meeting, get settled into your hotel, get a nap, and meet me later. But it’s no big deal, Christina. I’m a big boy. If this makes you uncomfortable or stresses you out, we can do it another time. Or we can shake hands, say ‘nice to know you,’ and walk away.”

  And with those words, I felt good again. I threw my hands up.“What the hell, right? It’s dinner in Manhattan. I’m in. No harm, no foul?”
/>   “No victim, no crime.”

  I laughed. “No body, no autopsy? What word game is this?”

  He shrugged. “No woman, no cry? I don’t know. I was going with the flow.”

  He was good at that. “Okay. Eight-thirty. Meet me in the lobby of the Doubletree?”

  His smiled widened. “You’re a puzzle, Christina Brinsley. And yes, I’ll see you this evening.”

  The taxi pulled up outside the building on Lexington Avenue and I climbed out with my luggage, laptop case, and purse. I reached in my purse to dig out money for my part of the fare, and he waved me off.

  “We’re good. Knock ’em dead in there.”

  “Thanks.” I took a few steps forward and looked back.“Se-riously, Steven—thanks.”

  “Seriously, you’re welcome, and hey—don’t let Lisa get under your skin.”

  “How did you—” I smiled. Steven was observant and smart.“Gotcha. See ya later.”

  “Looking forward to it.”

  I was too, though I would never admit it to him or myself.

  5

  You Two Will Play Nice, Won’t You?

  Christina—Friday, August 14, 10:14 a.m.

  Stepping off the elevator on the forty-third floor, a thought suddenly occurred to me: From the time Steven and I agreed to watch the movie to right this very minute, I had only thought of Jay /David once. The Jay/David fiasco had not been far from my thoughts for the last week. I kept going over and over it in my mind, wondering what I missed, what I should have seen, what I should have done differently.

  Because of my two previous serious-relationship disasters, I took dating very casually. It took a long time for me to agree to a second and then a third date. It took twice as long for me to get physical. If there is a speed between slow and a full standstill, that’s the speed at which I allowed the relationship between me and Jay /David to progress. I checked his background. I met his parents, his friends, his coworkers. I had a key to his house and knew what was in every nook and cranny. There had not been a single clue that pointed to Jay/David’s being the lying, treacherous, two-timing dog I had planned to marry and spend the rest of my life with.