Lucky Liar Page 4

“If it were up to me, there wouldn’t be one. There’s too much to get done at the office. We can celebrate a new marriage just fine in New York.”

  “Work is more important than celebrating a life-changing event?”

  “Work is everything. A lot of people depend on my leadership. There are thousands of jobs that I’m responsible for. I have a responsibility to them.”

  “And no one to delegate any of that work to, right?”

  “No one as smart as me.”

  She frowned. “I see modesty isn’t your strong suit.”

  “Modesty is overrated. What good would it do me to pretend I’m not as talented as I am?”

  “The difference between a man and a woman,” she muttered.

  “You think that pretending you’re not a stand-out attractive woman gets you ahead in life.”

  She let out a snort and covered her mouth with her hand, as though she could hide the blush on her face. Granted, she knew she was prettier than some, but hearing someone who dated only the best of the best describe her as stand out was still a lot to handle. “I, um, well, it sure as hell got me more in tips.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Oh yeah. If a guy called me pretty and I acted like it was the first time I’d ever heard it, the pity tips would start flowing.”

  “See, now if you acted like that around me, I’d assume you were lying your pretty little ass off to get more in tips.”

  “Well then, I guess that makes you cynical, doesn’t it?”

  “But right,” he pointed out.

  “I suppose my pretty little trailer trash ass better get used to you being right, shouldn’t I?”

  Wade held the door open for Zoe and studied her carefully. He hadn’t been home for at least ten years, and he sure as hell had never brought a woman here.

  “Wow.” Zoe looked up and spun in a little circle as she took everything in.

  He couldn’t tell whether it was a good wow or a bad wow. It could go either way. The large house that he’d grown up in had seen better days. It had been uninhabited for eight years now, so it was mostly covered in sheets and dust. He could’ve sold it at any point, but he’d been unable to make the call to put it on the market. There had been too many memories here. Too many nightmares.

  “I’ve seen this place so many times,” she muttered. “But I was never brave enough to sneak a peek through the windows.”

  It didn’t surprise him that his house would be such an attraction here. Birdsville, whose main employer was a large steel galvanizing plant, didn’t have a lot going on. Although his father had kept to himself for the most part, in this new social media age, he and his sister had become low-level celebrities. Between Sarah’s natural beauty and his penchant for dating women in the spotlight, it was no wonder that the small town he’d grown up in had become somewhat fascinated with him.

  At first, he’d rented out the house to make sure someone was keeping an eye on it, but managing one tenant when he was too busy with other things was inconvenient. After a few breakins over the years, he’d added motion-activated lighting and cameras around the house, and the instances of vandalism had dropped dramatically.

  And now it seemed worthwhile to keep the house after all these years. The closest motel was better known for their hourly rates than amenities. Considering how fast gossip could flow here, it was best that they were secluded in a place he could control.

  The house was two stories tall and looked out over the deeply wooded backyard. The living room was open to the second floor, and the windows stretched all the way up. Even as a kid, there had been little privacy at this place.

  “There are a few bedrooms upstairs. You can have your choice.”

  “Are there any clean linens? I should have time to run a load through the wash if we need to.”

  Wade ran a hand through his hair. “There are sheets somewhere. And even if there weren’t, I wouldn’t make you do the laundry first thing. You’re not the hired help.”

  She turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “I hate to break it to you, but I am the hired help.”

  “I didn’t marry you for—”

  “No. I’m not saying you married me for it. I’m saying I’m the person doing your cleaning. Bringing drinks to your table. Cleaning up your messes. I’m the hired help.”

  “So what? Do you expect me to look down on you for it?”

  “I want you to know.”

  “I already know every single shitty job you’ve worked in your life. There’s not a lot about you that can surprise me.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight back and forth, her defensiveness obvious. “You don’t know everything about me.”

  “Good. I like surprises.”

  She shook her head. “Liar. No one really likes surprises. Even surprise birthday parties are an excuse to catch someone off guard and looking their worst even when they’re the center of attention.”

  Well, that was telling. Note to self: Don’t throw Zoe a surprise party. “Why don’t I show you to the bedrooms?” he said, deciding not to push the issue.

  She was quiet but followed him upstairs. The upper level was made up of four bedrooms, all along the hallway that overlooked the open living room below. Each of the doors were burned into his memory. They were all closed. Even growing up, he remembered all the doors being shut. This wasn’t the kind of family that had an open-door policy….

  He led Zoe to his sister’s childhood room. The princess theme was still firmly intact, and the pink lace and ruffles surrounding the bed were obviously too childish for someone like Zoe. She ran a finger over the lace as she glanced around the room. “Pretty.”

  “If it’s too girly, there are other options.”

  “No. I can sleep anywhere. Really, it’s okay. I’m just happy you didn’t ask me to sleep with you.”

  He stiffened at that. “What?”

  “I mean, nothing personal. I’m just still…. The sex thing. It’s scary.”

  He took a step back, and she shook her head, running her hand through her hair. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “You’re allowed to voice your concerns.”

  “It’s not just my concerns. I…. I want to be honest with you. Whatever is going on between us is only going to work if we’re being honest, right? So if you’re going off to have a date with a mistress, I’d want to know about it. If anything I do makes you uncomfortable, I’d want to know. And if you’re about to kiss me, in public or private, I’d like to know.”

  Ahhh. This wasn’t about sex. This was about him kissing her. “I wanted to loosen you up.”

  “You manipulated me.”

  He didn’t answer. There was no use denying it, but he didn’t see any benefit to admitting it either. Sometimes silence was the best response.

  “Wade, you’re not the only one who has done research here. I know about you. How ruthless you can be in the boardroom. I think I’ve read multiple highly respected articles refer to you as an evil genius as a compliment. But what we’re doing here is complicated. If you want us to pull this off, you can’t treat me like some kind of opponent you’re trying to manipulate. We have to be partners in this. And I think that demands some kind of respect.”

  “Maybe I’m respecting you the best way I know how.”

  “Then it’s time to learn some new ways.” She shifted her weight once more. Even though she looked cool and collected, it was obvious she was still nervous.

  “You know I’m going to have to kiss you at some point. If we want to make this work.”

  “That’s fine. Just don’t do it by surprise.”

  “I don’t think you’re hearing me.”

  “Oh, I’m hearing you all right. It’s not going to do you any good if you go to kiss me and I punch you out of reflex.”

  “So if we’re in a room full of people, what’s the best way for me to signal that I’m suddenly about to kiss you? Do you want me to use ESP? Maybe use Morse code? Please enlighte
n me.”

  “God, do you take everything so literally? Fine. You don’t have to give me explicit warning if the situation calls for it. But if it’s something, like say we’re alone here and you’re trying to manipulate me into doing what you want, then yes, you should be able to give me some sort of warning.”

  Well, Wade couldn’t argue with that. “Do you want to hunker down for the night and see your family tomorrow?” It was late and she was exhausted, so he gave her the out if she wanted it, but Zoe was already shaking her head.

  “No. I need to go tonight. It will probably be best to tell her fast, like ripping off a Band-Aid. Then, instead of crushing me all day, she’ll have the night to digest. I need to ask you a favor though.”

  A favor? It seemed as if she was the one doing him all the favors. “What do you need?”

  “I don’t want my mom to know the truth. I don’t want her to know that you did this for money. Can you pretend to be in love with me?”

  A smile twisted his mouth. “Isn’t that the point?”

  “The point is to lie to your friends about it. I don’t want my mom thinking that I’m selling myself to the highest bidder. I also don’t want her thinking that I’m doing this all for her.”

  “You know, there’s one way to make this a little bit easier on all of us.”

  “Lots of drugs and alcohol?”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “If we want our relationship to look more realistic, we can always make it more realistic.”

  She took a physical step back and looked at him as though he’d lost his mind. “Is my husband actually asking me to be a wife?”

  “Nothing like that. We can enjoy the perks of spending so much time together. I don’t think I’ve made it a secret that I find you attractive, and I’m more than well aware of my own charm.”

  “Your modesty astounds me.”

  “Being modest is overrated. Think over my offer.”

  “While I might truly believe that you are attracted to me, the fact that you asked to sleep with me the same way you’d propose a business merger is an incredible turn-off. Besides, what if things end badly? What if I start diddling with you and then you start doodling somebody else? No, for us to get through these two years with our sanity intact, we need to be smart.”

  Wade schooled his expression, but her abrupt rebuttal stung a little bit. He wasn’t used to being told no and thought it was fairly obvious she was attracted to him, too. It seemed like a good idea for both of them. She had a point about not wanting to get too emotionally involved, but he hadn’t pegged her for the emotional sort.

  “I’ll give you a few minutes to rest up and change if you want, and then we can go to your mother’s.”

  “You’re not going to my mother’s. I’ll go and I’ll break the news alone. Then tomorrow we can play around with the family dynamics.”

  She wasn’t asking; she was telling. When was the last time anyone told him what to do, let alone a woman? Funny, he walked into this room purely curious about what it would be like to get her between the sheets; now, as he walked out, he was downright determined that he was going to fuck her, and sooner rather than later.

  Zoe looked at her childhood home with trepidation. Wade had accused her of being trailer trash, but she never actually lived in a trailer. Granted, she’d seen trailers bigger than the little seven-hundred-square-foot structure, but it was very firmly in the ground with the slab foundation, so they didn’t even have the benefit of the basement.

  A few years ago, she and her younger brother had repainted the outside of the house, giving the light-green color a fresh shine, but already it was looking dull and aged by the sun.

  The grass had been cut recently, but the corners of the house had giant weeds growing up, well over two feet tall. Her brother was no gardener, and her mother just didn’t have the energy to take care of it. Zoe made a mental note to make time for gardening while she was here. She had to carve out time for a lot of things. There was so much that she usually helped her mother with: groceries, cleaning, yard work, driving her to and from the hospital. If she was spending most of her time in New York now, she’d have to find someone to take over all these things.

  She supposed a good chunk of that monthly allowance could go to hiring out the jobs. They could pay for a landscaper. There were enough people around town who always needed some extra cash. She was sure she could hire her mom someone to help with transportation, and groceries. Maybe after all that was off her mom’s shoulders, there would be more time for cooking.

  Zoe remembered how much her mother would love spending all day in the kitchen making these elaborate and fancy feasts. With Zoe at the stove, the family usually ate out of boxes or cans. But considering what normally happened when she tried to cook from scratch, everyone was grateful for the boxes and cans.

  Zoe couldn’t even imagine where she was gonna start with this. All she could do was take a deep swallow and start toward the front door. The knob turned easily, no key required. Zoe was always harping on about the need to lock doors, but her family’s much more laid-back attitude about security had apparently won out in her absence.

  As soon as she walked in, the familiar sound of DJ blasting something away on his videogame came to her. She smiled at the sound that had annoyed her so often in the past. She couldn’t believe she was leaving this place. So many things hadn’t hit her the way they should’ve when she signed that contract. It wasn’t that she didn’t know she’d have to leave home. But knowing it and actually experiencing it were two different things.

  “Nice to see you, too,” she said to DJ, who was clearly ignoring her as he kept on shooting the aliens.

  “You’re the one who didn’t call Mom,” he said without looking at her.

  Well, of course she didn’t call Mom. What she could say? She sold her life to a billionaire? Sorry, just two years of her life to a billionaire.

  “I was a little busy,” she muttered. “Do you know where she is now?”

  “She went to church.”

  “Service ended hours ago.”

  “Some potluck thing. She made potato salad.”

  Zoe shook her head. Her mother had always found comfort in religion, and had been relying on it a lot since her illness had progressed, but Zoe hated when she went. She was happy if God gave her mother peace, but the women at that church were terrible. Their main way of comforting her mother was to tell Diane that God obviously wanted her to die. That it was his plan. Her mother kept up a good face, and the pastor was socially adept enough to avoid saying anything stupid, but every time her mother came home, she seemed to look worse. Every once in a while, she’d say she wasn’t going to go again, but she always went back eventually.

  “I’ll go make some lemonade. Do you want any?”

  DJ finally looked away from his game and stared at her ominously. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong.”

  “You only make lemonade when something’s wrong. You think the sugar will make it better.”

  “That’s a lie. I make lemonade all the time.”

  “You made it when you told us that Johnny was leaving you.”

  “Better idea—I make lemonade and then pour it on your head.”

  “Don’t hate the player, hate the game,” said DJ as he went back to playing.

  “You’re not using that right.”

  His grin told her that he knew that already, but he was just trying to annoy her.

  Some things would never change. She wondered what DJ would think when she told him she was leaving. Would he be happy to not have to fight her for the TV anymore? Would he miss their playful banter? She couldn’t believe she was leaving now. He was fourteen years old; things were just getting interesting. He was changing from her annoying little kid brother to a man, and she was gonna miss this. What was he going to be in high school? Was he going to be a teacher’s pet like her? A jock? Class clown? Some odd mixture of all three?

  She moved through
the living room and into the kitchen. Like the rest of the house, the kitchen was tiny, with barely any counter space and a small table just big enough for the three of them for the rare occasions they sat down for a family meal. Occasions that would be even rarer now, she supposed.

  She went on autopilot as she grabbed her mother’s favorite lemonade mixture in the pantry, a pitcher from above the refrigerator, some extra sugar, and moved to the sink to fill it up. When was the next time she’d be able to go on autopilot? She had to get used to a new kitchen now. A nicer kitchen. Did Wade even like lemonade? Judging from how ripped his body was, she guessed he didn’t put a gram of sugar into his body that wasn’t meticulously planned.

  An image of him shirtless came to her, and a blush ran up her cheeks. Of course she’d never seen him shirtless, thank goodness, but there were enough paparazzi photos of him in various states of undress for her to have a good image based on memory. She kind of wished she’d paid more attention to those photos now….

  All of that sexy, barely contained man had just offered to sleep with her. Somehow that was more shocking than the fact that she was married to him now. She could understand him wanting to deal with her for business reasons, but sleeping with her just for fun? Even though he mentioned it multiple times in his own condescending way that she was pretty enough to fuck, she was still surprised. He probably thought that about hundreds of women every day, and he wasn’t propositioning any of them. Considering her inexperience and her gruff way of dealing with him, she was surprised she even made it on his list.

  Still, she was happy she’d declined. The reasons she gave him were all valid, but they weren’t honest. She did want to keep a good working relationship with him, but she also wanted to keep some sort of upper hand. He had more money than her. He had more experience than her. She was moving into his domain. His world. She had to keep at least some sort of ace up her sleeve, right? Not that she ever thought she could really use her body against him, but it could be one way to show him that he didn’t completely control her, even if he kind of did.

  Zoe added all the ingredients to the pitcher and started to heartily mix it together when she heard the front door open. Glancing at the clock, she figured it must be her mother. She got to work beating faster, willing the lemonade mixture and sugar to dissolve in time.