Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
He shakes his head adamantly. “I wanted to, and I did. And I appreciate everything you did last night. So I just wanted to say thank you as soon as I could.”
Those words echo like a warning as I turn away from him and set down the chocolates on the kitchen counter.
David is handling situations with grace, saying thanks as soon as he can. I didn’t handle falling for his dad the same way. Or the right way. But I can’t fix that with a confession now. Nick has to tell him. Nick’s relationship with his son has to come first.
I have to tap dance my way out of more lies. Their talk will be soon. I’ll get through this awkward moment, and then David can see Nick, and we’ll deal.
I take a deep breath, then spin around, pasting on a smile. “How’s Cynthia?”
“Really good,” he says, affection in his tone. “Also, painkillers are, evidently, her new best friend. Direct quote.”
I laugh, shifting into hostess mode. “Want a water? LaCroix? Want to grab a cup of coffee?” Before your dad tells you in an hour that I sat on his face last night?
“Nah. I just wanted to hear how last night went,” he says.
“It was great,” I chirp, but he’s not listening.
His eyes stray to my window, overlooking Central Park West. He walks there slowly, stares out it a bit too long then scratches his jaw, turning back around. “Did you and my dad drive back together?”
Alarm bells ring.
I want to deny it, but if he’s asking the question, he clearly saw something. I replay the walk from the parking garage to my place. Nick and I didn’t hold hands. I don’t think we acted like lovers.
“We did. We both wanted to get back to the city,” I say evenly, then quickly I add, “I have a thing with Mia today. We’re doing some collabs.”
I hate myself a little bit more. I don’t have a thing with Mia. But I’ll definitely go to her store later on now that I’ve lied myself into a corner.
A corner for lying liars who lie.
He gestures to the window and the street beyond. “I thought I saw him at the end of your street,” he says.
The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. I stay quiet. He didn’t ask a question after all.
“When I turned onto your block a little while ago,” he adds.
“Probably because I gave him a ride,” I say evenly, and I should leave it at that. The more you say, the more obvious it is that you’re lying. But I don’t want David to figure out we’re a thing before Nick talks to him in an hour. So I have to say more to explain why Nick was here. “And he insisted on dropping me off and said he’d make his own way home.” I roll my eyes, like how ridiculous is it that Nick brought me home rather than asked for a ride to his place.
“That sounds like him. He doesn’t like to impose,” he says with an apologetic smile, but it burns off quickly and he’s Detective David again. “I guess I didn’t realize you were friends.”
We’re not friends at all. We’re so much more. I just shrug. That way I don’t technically have to answer.
David rubs his palms along his jeans, something he does when he’s solving a problem. I remember it from when I tutored him. He’s adding up details. “But hey, it’s cool that you’re friends. I just…” He shakes his head like he’s shutting himself up.
My skin crawls. I want this conversation to end so much. “So tell me more about Cyn—”
“—I guess I didn’t realize you’d met him in Miami,” he says, his brow furrowed, both in confusion and clear frustration.
My heart explodes with fear. This is seriously bad if he knows about Miami. My own words from the night at the diner, when I bought the corset, when he saw the satin fabric in my bag, blare in my head. I said I had a date the next night with a “sexy, powerful man I met a few months ago at a conference.”
David’s connecting the dots. At Mach speed, I cycle through what he might possibly know for certain. “Oh?” I ask, vague and nonchalant as I try to buy some time.
“Raven sent me a text this morning, thanking me for letting her be a part of the auction. She landed some business already from it and then she said…” David stops to grab his phone and read a text. “P.S. Your dad was awesome. I missed his speech in Miami but heard it on a podcast and loved it. I’m sure you heard how great it was from Layla.”
Forget bad. This is a disaster. He knows something.
I have no idea what he knows. No clue at all.