Page 8 of A Sinner's Truth

“Your guest room.” He grins while rubbing at his head. “That whole encounter was weird.”

“Tell me about it.” I sigh before turning back to the coffee pot. I’m not going to even pretend to try to figure out what my father is up to now without at least a litre of caffeine in my system. “Why are you sleeping in my guest room?”

“Some chick passed out in my bed. I couldn’t wake her up to send her home, so I came here. Can you go see if she’s gone yet?” He gives me those puppy-dog eyes of his. The ones that usually make every woman in a five-kilometre radius drop her panties. Every woman but me. I’m immune.

“No. Go and deal with it yourself.” I laugh. “You left a total stranger in your apartment, Drew.”

“Well, I didn’t want to wake up next to her.” He shrugs.

“There is something seriously wrong with you,” I tell him, and not for the first time.

“But you love me anyway.” He winks at me. “Can you pass me a cup?”

“I bet whoever she is, she’s going through all your things. It’s what I’d do if some dude left me alone in his apartment.”

“You think she’s snooping? Fuck that.” He walks off and I hear the front door slam closed. I wasn’t lying. I’d totally snoop if it were me. Curiosity killed the cat. Not the woman.

I take my full cup of coffee and fall onto my sofa. So many questions are running through my pounding head.Maybe he’s dying…

The thought leaves just as quickly as it came. My father is indestructible. Even when I hate him, I don’t wish him dead. Although, it would be the easiest way out of this whole marriage thing.

Nope, still don’t want to lose the only parent I have left.

Damn it. Maybe working at his company will be a good thing. I could get inside, find out what is actually going on with this deal he’s made. And then find out a way to make sure it doesn’t go ahead. I don’t buy for a moment that he thinks me being married is in my best interests. My father doesn’t believe in the whole constitution of marriage. If he did, he wouldn’t be on his sixth divorce.

I hear the door open and then Drew’s heavy footsteps stomping back my way. “Crisis averted. She was already gone,” he says, plopping down next to me. “You make me one of those?” He nods towards my cup.

“You don’t seem to have a problem helping yourself to my guest room, which means you can also help yourself to the kitchen and the coffee.” I smile sweetly at him.

He gets up with a groan as he moves towards the kitchen. “While you’re in there, can you whip up some pancakes?” I call after him, knowing my best friend won’t deny me.

After filling up on breakfast, I decide it’s time to put my plan into action. If I’m going to fake this whole job thing, I need a new wardrobe. I need to dress the part—the corporate part. “I need to go shopping,” I tell Drew.

“For what?”

“Work clothes. Didn’t you hear? I have a job to start on Monday?” I grin at him.

“You’re actually going to do it?” Drew scrunches up his nose.

“Yes. I have a plan,” I tell him.

“Of course you do.” Drew rolls his eyes. “Let’s hear it.” He waves his hand in aget on with itgesture.

“I’m going to get close. I’m going to find out whatever I can about this deal he’s made. I have eight months to get myself out of this,” I tell Drew. “If I’m there, I can try to find something, anything that I can use as a loophole.”

“That’s actually not the worst plan you’ve ever had,” Drew says while nodding his head.

“Okay, so let’s go and find me an appropriate wardrobe. I’ll shout dinner afterwards,” I offer.

“Times like this, I really wish you had girlfriends,” Drew groans. He hates when I drag him out shopping, but lucky forhim, I don’t actually have any other friends. I’ve never really had many people I trusted enough to confide in. Drew was also the only one I kept around after high school.

It’s not that I don’t like people. I’m just not great at keeping in touch with them. But Drew is like my brother. He doesn’t give me a choice.

“Well, I don’t have any other friends. And as my best friend, it’s your job to help me pick clothes,” I remind him.

“Maybe you can makenewfriends at thisnewjob of yours.” He laughs.

“Yeah, because everyone wants to be friends with the boss’s daughter.” Sarcasm drips from every word. I’m not there to make friends anyway. It’s probably the one personality trait my father actually likes about me. My indifference when it comes to socialising. He’s always told me that there is no place for friends when you’re at the top. And according to Dad, us Swans are always at the top.

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