Page 32 of Veil of Lies

My tolerance for socializing had always been low. Dad rarely dragged me along to galas and parties once I came of age, as he knew I was shy and hated talking to strangers. Unless it was a family-focused event, taking one of his rent-a-bimbos rather than a gawky teenage daughter was usually his preferred option. Which was perfectly understandable. It wasn’t until I hit my late teens that he started encouraging me to attend events with him. It was how I’d met Brody.

Brody was the son of one of his more well-connected clients. He’d made a point of talking to me at a charity gala one night. I’d been a very socially awkward 17-year-old who struggled with small talk, so when a handsome guy chatted me up, it felt like all my Christmases had come at once.

Thanks to Brody, I became more accustomed to parties and socializing in time, but it never got any easier. Being around a bunch of people I didn’t know was still a deeply uncomfortable experience, which was ridiculous given I was a 20-year-old college student. By rights, I should have been having the time of my life.

Yet here I was, on the outside looking in while everyone else drank themselves into a coma, snorted coke, and made out in dark corners. We’d been here for a couple of hours and Tessa was busy flirting with some hot guy she clearly fancied. She had tried to stick with me, but I wasn’t blind. I saw the way the pair of them were eye-fucking each other and I knew it wouldn’t be long before she had his tongue down her throat. No way was I sticking around for that, so I had forced her to leave me, telling her I was fine. I didn’t need any reminders of how tragic my own sex life was. Fortunately, by then she was too drunk to argue.

The party house was massive, as Tess had hinted at on our way here. It was a huge, modernist structure overlooking the ocean, an architect’s wet dream. While the views were undoubtedly amazing - it was dark outside, so hard to tell - the interior was rather sterile. Certainly not to my taste anyway. I wasn’t a huge fan of white and chrome. I much preferred warm colors, books, interesting paintings on the walls, antique furniture, and crackling fireplaces.

After seeing the mess left by many of the drunken guests, I hoped the host had an army of cleaners booked for tomorrow. He’d definitely need some help clearing away all the empty bottles, cans, used condoms in the bushes, and discarded underwear. Yeah, it really was that gross.

The loud techno music was giving me a migraine, so I wandered away from the main party rooms, seeking somewhere a bit quieter where I could catch a breath. I was already plotting my escape, but I figured it would be rude to ditch Tessa yet, even if she was preoccupied with her hottie. We weren’t exactly best friends, but there was a girl code, and I didn’t want to leave her alone, drunk, and vulnerable. While I got no bad vibes from her hookup, it didn’t mean none of the other guests were sexual predators looking for some drunk girl to roofie.

The wraparound terrace overlooking the beach was mostly empty. It was a cool night, with a sharp breeze blowing in from the ocean. I shivered slightly, despite my leather jacket, but at least it was quieter out here. A patio heater warmed the space around a rattan chair set and I took a seat on the sofa, tucking myself in next to a large potted palm. The light above me flickered and then died, casting a deep shadow. Far below, I heard the surf crashing on the shore. It reminded me of vacations long ago, at the villa on St. Barts.

We would never go there again, I realized with a pang of sadness. The villa had been seized, along with all of dad’s other assets.

I sighed. I didn’t much care about his luxury car collection or the Impressionist paintings, but the villa had been one of my favorite places. Thanks to its remote location and private beach, we rarely saw another person when we stayed there, aside from the guy who came to clean the pool and maintain the gardens. Dad had loved it there too. It was one of the few times he relaxed enough to spend time with me. It was there he’d taught me how to swim and fish, and also where I had learned to love hiking and being outdoors.

I was so lost in my memories that I nearly jumped out of my skin when Harley appeared. He jumped too when he saw me sitting in the shadows. “Fuck,” he barked in surprise. “I thought I was alone out here.”

He pulled out a packet of cigarettes and dropped down on the sofa next to me. “Want one?” he asked, holding one out. I shook my head.

“No thanks, it’s a filthy habit.”

“Yeah, I know, but it’s my only vice.”

I snorted.

“You have completely the right opinion of me,” he laughed.

We sat there for a while, neither of us talking. It was surprisingly comfortable. For all his flirting, he didn’t feel a need to fill the silence with inane chatter, which I appreciated. I also appreciated the warmth of his large body. The patio heater was kicking out some heat, but the wind had picked up and it was getting seriously cold out here.

Harley felt me shiver. “Cold?” he asked, apparently oblivious to the chill, despite only wearing a light sweater.

“A little,” I admitted.

He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me closer. I inhaled the warm scent of his skin, a mix of spice and musk. God, he smelled good. I didn’t ever remember Brody smelling this delicious. I barely remembered much about Brody at all.

I felt safe, tucked into Harley’s side. My head fitted comfortably into his shoulder and his fingers lightly stroked my hand. Anyone venturing out here would probably assume we were a couple. Which was dumb. It was hard to remember why I felt I should leave tonight. I didn’t want to go anywhere. Being here, with this boy’s arm around my shoulders, made me feel protected. It wasn’t a sensation I was used to.

“I hear you changed your hair color,” he said.

I tensed up. “Quinn told you.”

“Yeah, he said you got upset about him taking a photo.” I tried to pull away but he held me firm.

“Hey, relax, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t want to. I…can’t talk about it.”

My fight or flight instinct kicked in and I wasn’t feeling so relaxed anymore. Why couldn’t he have kept his mouth shut? Typical boy, he had to ruin the moment.

“Look, I better go, it’s getting late.” I tried to stand, but Harley’s arm was still around my waist; he wasn’t letting me go that easily.

“Don’t leave,” he implored, using his free hand to tuck some loose strands of hair behind my ear. “We can sit in silence if you prefer.”

I was torn. On the one hand, my instincts screamed at me to leave before Harley started digging away at my secrets, but on the other, I was enjoying this moment of intimacy a little too much.

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