Page 117 of Mistaken Identity

“I’ve just seen her down in the parking garage, crying her eyes out.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’s all part of the act.”

“What act?” He takes a seat opposite me, crossing his legs. “The woman I just saw wasn’t acting.”

“Don’t be so easily fooled. She’s good at it.” She took me in.

“Good at what? You’re not making any sense.”

I lean back in my seat and focus on the pen that’s lying on my desk, rather than looking at him. “I don’t think I mentioned it at the time, but when I first heard Livia’s name, I had a feeling I recognized it. Not her second name, you understand, just her first name.”

“Well… I suppose it is fairly unusual.”

I raise my head, looking at him now. “Exactly. I thought it was odd, but I knew I’d heard it somewhere before. I abandoned the idea, though, and interviewed her…”

“And fell for her?” he says, tilting his head at me.

“Yeah… and fell for her.”

“And then you offered her a job?”

“I did. And I know that may not have been the wisest move in the world, but…”

“You couldn’t help yourself?”

“Something like that.” I pause, remembering that morning, and how she came into my office and blew me away, my chest tightening at the memory.

“Okay,” Drew says, interrupting the thought. “So, you met her, and employed her. This is ancient history. What happened today?”

“A guy came in here. He wanted to see Dad. I didn’t hear the beginning of the conversation, but the guy started yelling, so I went outside.”

“To protect her?”

“Of course.” Although I realize now, it was all part of the act; she didn’t need protecting from her own father, did she?

“And?”

“And he introduced himself to me… as Ken Bevan.”

Drew’s mouth drops open. “The guy who defrauded Dad?”

“Yes.”

He frowns. “What the hell was he doing here?”

“He came to gloat, I think. He said something about wanting to show Dad what a success he’d made of himself, or something. I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’d just worked out where I’d heard Livia’s name before.” I take a deep breath, still wishing it wasn’t true, even though I know it is. “She’s Ken Bevan’s daughter.”

“What the fuck?”

“I know. I feel like such an idiot.”

“What for?”

“Falling for her lies, of course.”

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