Grand Lies (The Promise Duet Book 1)

by JC Hawke

  A few minutes later, there’s a knock at the door, and Megan’s head pops around the threshold. “Come on, drama queen, Luce is ordering in Chinese.” She winks at me, then disappears again.

  We lounge on my sofa, eating takeout from the containers. Greys Anatomy reruns playing on the television, reminding me of our uni days.

  “I need a McDreamy,” Lucy sighs as she stares longingly at the TV.

  “You don’t go from Hugh straight to a McDreamy, Luce.” I shake my head at her, chuckling under my breath.

  “I’ll just take a night with McSteamy,” Megan says, making us all laugh out loud.

  I look to Megan, wondering what she would share if I asked. “Megs, how was Sam last night?” I pop my brow at her.

  “Fine. We went back to his.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Messed around.”

  This is all we ever get from her. She doesn’t share the dirty escapades of her sex life with us. Sometimes we may get snippets, but rarely any details. We don’t care, but it’s odd. She’s one of the most open people we know—especially with us. Nothing comes out filtered. It’s why we love her.

  I drop it, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

  “So… I ran into Joey again last night,” I say into my food container.

  “When?” Lucy looks confused as if trying to work it out.

  “When Mason dropped me home—or tried to. I didn’t get out of the car right away, and Joey was waiting for me outside.”

  “Fucking creeper,” Megan states.

  “He hit Mason, but then Mason pinned him to the car and made him apologise for almost hitting me.”

  The girls’ mouths drop open.

  “No flipping way,” Lucy says, astonished, a slight smile pulling at the corner of her lip.

  “I think he broke his nose.” I wince, remembering the awful sound.

  “Who, Mason’s?” Megan asks.

  “No, Joey’s. Mason punched him back.” The girls look at one another, smirking in unison. “I need to check that Joey is okay on Monday. It was bad, girls.”

  “Nina, screw him! Go check on Mason!” Lucy gets up on her knees excitedly and I frown.

  “What? No! Did you forget about the part when he called me a prostitute?” I retort.

  “Well, did he actually use the word prostitute?” she argues back.

  I glower at her as she checks her phone that’s just pinged with a text.

  “Uber’s about to arrive.” She jumps up, the two of them going to the kitchen to clear up before saying goodbye.

  “Thanks, girls, I needed this today.” I hug them both close.

  “Always,” Megan says with a smile.

  They are halfway out the door when Luce turns. “Don’t forget lunch at Mum’s tomorrow. It’s your turn to make dessert.”

  I wrap my arms around myself, feeling grateful to have them both as my best friends. “Bye, girls.”

  It’s around nine when I hear my phone ringing in my bedroom. I rush to grab it, pulling it from the charger and answering it without looking.

  “Nina?!” My mother’s shrill voice comes through the line. “Nice of you to finally answer. I’ve been trying to reach you all week. I need some help this month, I can’t manage this place financially on my own.”

  I close my eyes as she gives me the same old bullshit excuses. “Hi, Mum. I’m fine, thanks for asking,” I mutter.

  “Oh please, if you’d had answered my call before now, I wouldn’t be so stressed out. You can be so selfish sometimes.” Ah, there we go with the blame game. It’s my fault she is stressed. It’s my fault the power got cut off. It’s my fault she had to sell her body to pay for new school shoes.

  I was just eight when she first started bringing men into our home, sleeping with them for money. She never hid it from me, never apologised or wiped my tears after a night spent hiding in my room, trying to block out the noises.

  I puff out a breath, scrubbing a hand down my face and not wanting to remember. “How much this time?”

  I shouldn’t give it to her. It only gets spent on cigarettes, drugs and alcohol. But I know once I do, I won’t hear from her for a while. It’s bittersweet, really. How you can long to be held by someone just as fiercely as you fight to keep them at bay; how you can crave a person who has never given you a reason to love them.

  And I love her, despite it all.

  “Five hundred. I need to cover the electric. I’m two months behind.” She tries to justify it, but I’ve heard it a thousand times before.

  I think about my savings account—or the bank of Nina to my mum. I just want her gone; it’s been a long week. “I’ll transfer it now. Please stop calling me constantly, Mum. Text me, and I will call when I am free. I teach all day.”

  “Thank you,” she tells me, her voice lacking all sincerity before she quickly hangs up. And as always after speaking to her I’m left feeling disappointed. What I would give to be able to speak to my mum, open up about my crappy night and have her tell me I’m being silly and it’s just a boy.

  I log into my banking app and transfer the money before she starts hounding me as to where it is.

  Throwing my phone down on the coffee table, I round the kitchen island to get a much-needed glass of wine. I’m just about to pour it when I spot an envelope on the worktop.

  Those damn girls don’t listen.

  I pick it up and contemplate opening it. Thoughts of Mason as he lay sprawled out on his bed flash through my mind. The feel of his hands as they roamed my torso. The way his scent engulfed me as he buried his face into my neck.

  I tear open the envelope, not being able to ignore the nagging feeling in my gut.

  Nina, I’m so sorry about last night.

  Call me. Joey

  Joey?

  Pain splinters through me. I toss the card into the bin and ram my hand down on top of the flowers, crushing them the best I can. The disappointment I feel at the realisation that Mason hasn’t bothered to contact me is more than I care to admit, which is stupid. Why would he contact me? It was one night—who am I kidding? It wasn’t even that. It was a couple hours of drunken stupidity on my part.

  I ditch the wine glass and take the bottle back to the sofa instead, feeling foolish to think he would care.

  Mase

  I pace my living area for the one hundredth time today, trying to work out what went wrong this morning and how I can fix it. I completely screwed things up with her, but I wish she’d given me a chance to explain.

  She thought I was serious about the Elliot paying her thing. I wasn’t, and I shouldn’t fucking care this much.

  Why do I care this much?

  Why did I let her leave?

  I run my hands through my hair as the elevator doors ping. Elliot strolls into my penthouse without a care in the world. “Where have you been all day, dickhead? I called you earlier.”

  “Mase.” He smiles, walking to me and clasping my back. “It was a late one. I was sleeping when you called. You ready?” His eyes drop down my body, taking in my T-shirt and sweats. “Charlie will be here in a minute.”

  “I’m not coming out. I’ve been calling you. Do you have Nina’s number? The woman from the bar. She was here last night and—”

  “The Pixie? Pixie was here?” he interrupts me in shock.

  “She’s not called fucking Pixie,” I say, pissed off that he’s carrying this on.

  He breaks out into a stupid, wide grin. “Look at you. You have yourself all worked up over this chick. This is totally like your Pixie,” he teases.

  My fists clench at my sides as I fight the urge to punch my best friend in the face.

  I continue to pace. “I was going to drop her home, but some asshole was waiting outside her building. He almost hit her. I wasn’t going to leave her with him lurking around, you know.”

  “So, you thought you’d bring her here to show off your tower.” He laughs, clearly enjoying this.

  “I didn’t touch her. She was drunk. But she made me promi
se that I would when she was sober.” I shake my head at the memory, knowing it sounds stupid even to my own ears. I’ve been over this in my head all day. “I woke up to my cock in her mouth.”

  His eyes pop wide and he jolts his head back. He wasn’t expecting that. “Okay, tell me again the reason she isn’t your Pixie?”

  I ignore his question, rolling my lip before telling him, “I asked her if you paid her.”

  “You fucking idiot,” Charlie snaps as he walks into the foyer. “For a smart bloke, you really are a stupid son of a bitch sometimes.” He walks towards us with Lance Sullivan, our head of finance and close friend.

  “Fuck off, Charles. I don’t want your opinion on this,” I tell him, knowing his advice will be the most valuable to me. Charlie is the most headstrong of the group. He knows how to handle the shit life throws at him—and the women. But I refuse to be made vulnerable to this woman.

  “Sure, take that dickhead’s advice,” he snaps.

  “Hey, what have I done?” Elliot throws his arms out at his sides smiling.

  Sullivan steps forward, a bored look on his face. “If you girls are finished? Maybe we could grab a drink.”

  My gaze flicks between them all as I contemplate whether I should sit here all night worrying about her, or if I should go get pissed with the lads.

  I head upstairs to change.

  We end up in the nearest bar to my building and a favourite of ours, The Rensley Arms. I didn’t even want to come out tonight, so there was no way I was going to a club.

  Elliot sits back in his seat as he sets four beers down in front of us. “Cheer up, mate,” he jibes.

  I run my hands through my hair in frustration. “Do you guys think I should reach out to her? She was nearly crying when she left.”

  I get the image of her in my foyer with her shoes clutched in her hands. God, she was so upset. That look on her face. It’s all I’m able to think about.

  “Why don’t you go to her building and apologise?” Charlie suggests.

  “I don’t know what number her flat is. We didn’t even make it inside.” I shake my head, thinking about the way I reacted to her dickhead friend. He deserved the broken nose. He would’ve hit Nina if I hadn’t moved her out of the way.

  “Hasn’t ever stopped you before.” Elliot raises his brow suggestively. “Just get Vinny on it.”

  I’ve already thought about this. Vinny is my driver and is ex-special forces. He knows the right people and would get me everything I need on her within the hour.

  It just doesn’t feel right.

  “I don’t want to invade her privacy. It’s not how I want to do this.”

  Charlie makes a point of looking at me, nodding his head as if he is impressed. I roll my eyes, taking a sip of beer.

  “Shit, Mase, you really have it bad for this girl?” Sullivan’s staring at me like I have grown two heads. They aren’t used to me giving a shit.

  Why do I give a shit?

  “I barely know her! These pair of idiots wanted to play matchmaker, I all but called her a prostitute, and now I’ve managed to get on her shit list.”

  Elliot raises his glass in a toast. “To Pixies, Prostitutes and getting on their shit lists.”

  I glare at him. I might kill him.

  Feeling defeated—knowing I have to speak with her and see that she is okay—I look to Charlie, seeking his approval. “I can’t look her up, can I?” I ask.

  He shrugs, a grim expression on his face as he squeezes my shoulder. “I don’t know what other option you’ve got, mate.”

  I scrub my hands over my face before pulling out my phone, and then I send Vinny a text with all the details I have.

  My phone rings instantly.

  “I’m out,” I tell him.

  “You haven’t given me a lot to go on here, Mase. How much do you want to know?”

  I look to the boys, all of them watching me with intense looks on their faces, and I know I shouldn’t ask for it, I know it’s wrong, but a mixture of relief and excitement settles in my gut as I say, “Everything.”

  4

  Nina

  I groan as I push open the door to the gym, nausea crawling up my throat as my stomach turns from the sheer weight of it. And probably the wine I drank last night. I came home from lunch at Maggie and John’s with a bottle of wine and the other half of the banoffee pie I’d made. Rarely am I late for work, but today, I feel horrific.

  Water bottle in hand, I start to weave through the throngs of people and equipment. I chose a shit time to come in today. The gym is packed with everyone rushing to get their workout done in their lunch hour. I catch Logan’s eye as I’m passing the treadmills, and he gestures for me to wait a minute while he finishes up with his client.

  Oh, not today, please.

  I trudge to the main desk, sinking into the chair as a layer of sweat forms on my hairline.

  God, I feel awful.

  Logan is Lucy’s cousin and has worked in the gym since I opened it. He shares the shifts with Henry, my only other employee. I’m lucky to have them both, and I know I can trust them to have free rein on the gym.

  “Anderson, you’re looking rough today.” Logan rounds the desk and stands behind me, checking the computer in front of me.

  “Well, thanks, asshole. That better not be why you stopped me.” I squint up at him, the fluorescent lights making my head spin.

  “One of the reasons,” He winks. “Henry can’t work this afternoon. He didn’t say why, but it’s not like him. Do you have any classes?”

  I consider lying. The only thing I want to do this afternoon is sleep. My hand lifts, my fingers running aimlessly over my collarbone.

  “Don’t try lying to me, Anderson. I already checked your sheet. I have a date, and I’m not cancelling.” He gives me a lopsided grin that I can’t help but return.

  Logan is a total gym freak, his arms the same size as my thighs—maybe. But under all that hardness, he is the softest son of a bitch I’ve ever met.

  “How the hell did you get a date?” I roll my eyes, teasing him.

  Man, I do not want to cover the gym. I planned to leave right after my second class. Logan knows I won’t say no.

  “Funny, I will be leaving at four.” He ruffles my hair then goes back to his client.

  I make my way up the studio stairs, a calmness settling over me once I’m inside. A feeling I’ve not felt since I left on Friday.

  This really is my sanctuary.

  I give the floors a quick brush before setting out the mats for the girls’ warm-up. I’m just laying down the last one when I hear their giggles as they climb the stairs. Funnily enough, they never use the back door. Something about the muscle show downstairs that they can’t miss.

  I smile as they come into view, brushing myself off and putting my game face on.

  “Girls, that’s the best I’ve seen it! We are nearly there!” I say excitedly, and they all start to jump around, high-fiving one another. I make them stretch before they leave for the day, some of them staying on to work out downstairs.

  With no more classes scheduled for the rest of the day, I start cleaning the studio mirrors. Logan is here for another hour, and I need to kill some time.

  I am midway through when I hear my phone ringing in my bag. Certain it won’t be my mum, I go to check who it is.

  Erin O’Conner’s name lights up the screen, and I smile as I answer.

  “Hey, you! It’s been months!”

  “Nina! I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been so busy. How are you?” I can hear her smile through the phone.

  I knew the moment I met Erin that she was a beautiful person inside and out, a natural redhead, smart and stunning.

  I haven’t seen her since I first started renting the space, but she has stayed in touch, making sure everything is always okay with the building.

  “Ah, you know how it is. Work, men, mothers.” I laugh, pulling myself up to sit on the piano, the phone tucked in the crook of my neck.


  She laughs along with me. “That sounds an awful lot like my life right now.”

  “Well, that makes me feel better, thank you,” I say with a smile. “How is your mum?” I ask, feeling bad for moaning about my mum whilst hers is sick.

  “Hmmm, she is getting there. It’s going to be a long road to recovery,” she says sadly.

  I try to lift her spirits. “Well, I feel like I’ll be needing a trip after this showcase. Maybe I could visit with Luce and Megs. I’m desperate to meet some of these Australian men you’ve been telling me about.”

  “Actually, you might see me a little sooner than that. I have some documents that need to be signed and have to come home. I was hoping you’d be okay with me working out of the studio office for a couple of weeks? I know you said you don’t use it, so it’s totally fine if you don’t want me to.”

  “Erin, of course, it’s your office! I don’t even use it. When will you be home? I will make sure the girls are free, and we can get drinks.” I start to plan in my head.

  “Yeah, that would be good! I’ve missed London so much.”

  My heart breaks for her a little. “It won’t be long, and you’ll be back here living the dream,” I say, tracing the initials engraved on the back of the piano.

  “I wish that were the case, Nina,” she says solemnly. ” So I plan to fly in on the twenty-fifth. I already booked my flight, hoping you’d be okay with me getting under your feet at the studio.” She laughs.

  “Well, how presumptuous of you.” I smile. “Honestly, Erin, I don’t even know where the key is. I never use it. I won’t even know you’re here.”

  “Right, that’s set then. I can’t wait to see you. Thank you, Nina.”

  “Of course, take care, lovely. See you soon.”

  I spotted the Bentley parked up on the other side of the road about an hour ago and have no idea how long Mason has been sitting there. Thankfully, he hasn’t come inside—yet. It’s why I plan to make a dash out the back once everyone has left the gym.