Page 217 of Wicked Fantasies

“I’m a big girl, Rob,” Meg replied softly, “and it’s just a drink. I didn’t realize you had a meeting.”

“I,” don’t, he started to say, but the word got caught in his throat. “I wish you would stay here.”

“Embarrassed by me?” she asked and Rob understood how much Shelly and Tara’s insults had hurt her.

“Don’t be silly,” he said before Tara’s voice came across the room.

“Honestly, Rob” she teased. “You would think we were a school of piranhas circling around your little goldfish. It’s just a drink. We won’t even leave the hotel. We’ll go to the bar downstairs. Come on Meg,” Tara added, a twinge of a dare to her words. “We’re all friends here, aren’t we?”

Meg pasted on a fake smile and stiffened her spine. “Of course, we are.”

Chapter Ten

Rob watched as Meg followed his oldest friends out of the hotel. The sound of the door closing behind them sounded ominously like the last nail being driven into his coffin. He’d been a fool to let her meet Shelly’s entourage, let alone leave with them. Sinking onto the couch, Rob’s mind raced as he considered what he could have done and said differently. Meg thought he was ashamed of her. How the hell could she think that? He was exceedingly proud of her and actually felt undeserving of her. She was a wonderful woman.

A wonderful woman he’d been lying to since the beginning and now all his lies were unraveling. Shaking his head, he realized she was never going to dismiss his lie as anything less than what it was--an outright deception. Now that she’d met his friends the deceit seemed even worse. No doubt, Meg would believe he was toying with her, making fun of her. Well, Rob decided, Tara and Shelly weren’t going to ruin the best thing that ever happened to him. Rising, Rob raced to the door, startled to find Pierre, poised to knock.

“Pierre,” Rob began, “as you can see I’m on my way out.”

“Yes sir,” Pierre said, continuing to block the doorway, “I beg just a moment of your time.”

“Pierre,” Rob started, “this really isn’t a good time.”

“I understand,” Pierre replied, adding, “I saw Ms. Williams in the company of Ms. Thompson-Rhodes and her sister. No doubt you intend to join them.”

“Yes,” Rob answered, relieved not to have to explain his haste.

“Dressed as such?” Pierre asked, gesturing at Rob’s clothing.

Grimacing, Rob realized he was still dressed in his swimming trunks and the tattered t-shirt he pulled on just before opening the door to Shelly and the disaster she represented. No wonder Tara and Shelly had looked so shocked when he first opened the door. He never dressed in anything less than height of fashion. However, he toned down his appearance over the past couple of days so Meg would feel more at ease. It occurred to him, however, that he was the one who’d been more at ease in the comfortable clothing.

“Damn,” he muttered, turning and tromping back to his bedroom. The sound to the door closing alerted him that Pierre had followed. Reaching into his closet, Rob pulled out his Etro Cargo pants and black silk shirt. Buttoning the shirt, Rob turned to find Pierre standing in the doorway. “Go ahead,” he said, “tell me what an ass I’ve been. I should have told her the truth. Say I told you so because, by God, you did.”

“I don’t think you were wrong,” Pierre said.

Still ranting, Rob continued, “I’ve been lucky to get away with such an idiotic lie this long. I don’t know what possessed me to think I could—what did you say?”

“I don’t think you were wrong to lie to Ms. Williams,” Pierre repeated.

“But you said no good ever came from a lie,” Rob replied, recalling the long conversation they had at the bar last night. He was astounded by Pierre’s admission, especially in light of the fact it was all about to blow up in his face.

“I think, Rob, you’ve never known a true friend or even a true love. Someone who saw you as you truly were, not merely as an image displayed for public consumption. Very few people have ever seen through the mask you don to hide the true person inside.”

Rob merely nodded at Pierre’s astute comments as he continued, “But Ms. Williams. She has seen inside you, yes?”

Again, Rob nodded, before whispering, “Yes.”

“And I assume she liked what she saw?” Pierre asked with a slight grin.

“Amazingly, yes,” Rob answered.

“Then you were not wrong to lie to her,” Pierre stated, “however, you would be sincerely remiss in letting someone else, perhaps someone less careful, reveal your true identity.”

“I would,” Rob added, “but Pierre, I’ve waited too long. How could I ever ask her to trust me when the whole basis of our relationship, short as it’s been, has been built on a lie?”

“Actually,” Pierre replied, “I would say, for the first time in your life, this is the only relationship not based on a lie.”

Considering his words, Rob agreed. Meg knew the true Rob Madison, the man underneath the money and power. She knew the man who liked corn dogs and horror movies, the man who hated vanilla anything and who read mystery novels voraciously. She knew his secret fondness for reality shows and folk music. She knew all of this because she listened to him, took the time to get to know him, and ask him about himself. She cared enough to get to know him--as a person of worth, not ‘net worth.’

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