Page 29 of Addicted Lies

I’m not as involved in the darker side of the family businesses as some of my relatives are, but I’m not dumb, and I understand they’re all shady as fuck. Even my own father. When my parents sat me down and explained what it was my father does beyond lingerie store franchises and the darker demands of the world, it didn’t make me feel any particular way. Even the fact that he runs one of the largest escort businesses and sells virgins at auctions—consensually, of course.

Even though Dutton wanted me to know nothing about the things they do, I’m grateful they sat me down to explain the situation rather than acting like something they’re not. And I was happy to discover that though many of their businesses might be illegal, they’re very protective of their employees’ safety. I’m kind of proud of that because I know there are other illegal—and even legal—businesses where women, especially, don’t have that same sense of safety.

From what I’ve seen, my brother has taken over Dad’s business flawlessly, and he’s grown it with ease. And I guess it was always assumed I’d take after my mother, considering how much I enjoy baking. But I’m not sure I want to follow in either of their footsteps. That’s the kind of thing you do in families like mine—you take on roles and responsibilities that are handed down to you so your parents can retire and enjoy life. Or you take up a profession that will somehow benefit the family.

Which is how I ended up choosing a career I thought could be used in different ways and not entirely for a shady business. It was a stupid mistake when I picked something to do with money, though. Because even though I might not be physically involved in anything they do, I can now be asked to hide money and move it without being caught. Which, to my family, is just as helpful as putting a bullet in someone’s head.

“That guy’s cute,” Ivy mentions and immediately pulls out her phone. “But let’s take a deep dive.” She means stalk him. Ivy’s father is a tracker—the best one in the world. There is no one that man can’t find. And Ivy is just as good, which is a little scary. I remember in high school, I told her about this boy I had a crush on. I hadn’t met him in person, just online. She took it upon herself to find him, go through his messages, and basically perform a deep dive on him in a matter of hours, then she requested I block him and never talk to him again.

She doesn’t want her family to know how good she is, though, because, like me, she’s not sure she wants to follow in either of her parents’ line of work. But I wonder if her family already knows, what with her father being able to find out anything. Or maybe he respects her enough to leave her alone. Doubt it. All of these men are controlling and meddling.

She grimaces, and I laugh. “That bad already, huh?”

“I think I should just stop at his Instagram page. And this embarrassment is public.” She laughs.

I can’t help but glance in Ford’s direction again. I need to apologize for last night, and I need to ask about the jackets because I’m certain he’s the one who sent them. But I also still have half of a heart tattoo on my ass that he needs to finish.

“Earth to Billie.” Ivy’s snapping her fingers in front of my face, and it draws me back into the room. “Damn, it’s either that hangover hit you harder than I thought, or you’re epically distracted.”

That’s when I notice my mother has joined us, catching the end of the conversation. “Why are you distracted? Is everything all right?” she asks, resting her hand at the small of my back.

I smile. “Yes. I’ve just been thinking about my first day at my new job on Monday,” I lie.

My mother’s expression softens. “You’re going to kill it.” But I can tell Ivy isn’t so easily convinced. “And what about you, Ivy? How long will you be here before the next adventure?” my mother asks. Ivy works freelance IT and can do her job remotely.

I zone back out of their discussion and look over to where Eli is having what looks like a hushed conversation with Ford and Hawke. Most likely discussing mafia business.

I stare for God knows how long before Ford’s dark eyes finally meet mine. He looks away without giving me any type of reaction, whereas his brother notices and gives me a wave. I wave back, sighing. Not the brother I wanted a warm welcome from, but when has Ford ever been inviting, especially in front of others? If it weren’t for his calm demeanor, we most likely would’ve been caught much sooner, and it wasmyidea to keep us as a secret.

When I return to the conversation, my mother is explaining how to make the maple syrup dumplings she loves. She then glances over to my father and whispers into my ear, “Billie, can you go and see if your father is almost ready? I’m just going to send Ivy this recipe first.”

“We’ve only been here for an hour,” I remind her. She smiles politely, like I should know better. If my mother can escape these events, that’s exactly what she’ll do. I try not to laugh as I make my way over to my father, who is speaking to my uncle, Crue.

Crue stops talking when I reach them. “Billie. I hear you’ll be working for my wife’s firm.”

I give him a hug. Although he’s not the affectionate type, he always humors us and at least tries to be nice. But he’s as ruthless as they come, and it’s obvious where Eli gets it from.

“Hey, Uncle Crue. I start on Monday,” I say with a smile.

“I’m surprised you’re allowed out without your brother here,” he says, and my father chuckles.

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, well, apparently, he and Posie are selecting flowers for the wedding. More specifically, Dutton’s choosing and dragging Posie along for the ride.”

My father laughs at that.

“Also, Mom wants to leave,” I tell Dad.

“Of course she does.” He smiles.

I make a point to walk past Eli and Ford, deliberately not looking his way, but I feel when his gaze is on me. So I make my way to the small hallway leading to another two conference rooms and the bathrooms. The first room is empty, so I step into it, holding my breath and hoping I’m not acting foolish. Once I’m in the small room, I notice the two red seats with a coffee table in between them. Still holding my glass of champagne, I take a seat and wait for him.

Hoping that he’ll come.

CHAPTER 13

Ford

It’s hard not to notice Billie and even harder to try to ignore her. That tight green dress is going to be my fucking undoing. I tried multiple times to look away from her and failed miserably. And then the little ball of chaos decides to saunter past, her hips swaying in invitation. I might be conceited, but I can tell she wants my attention, and I’m the fucking fool unable to suppress my desire to run to her when she calls. Now that I know what she tastes like, I can’t resist. And last night was peculiar, and I’m hellbent on reiterating what we are to each other, what our bodies can do for each other. But I’m hiding under the reality of just needing my next hit.

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