Page 70 of Never Tell Lies

“Bradley.” The tone in his voice told me that I’d just made a mistake. “Your date at the Serenity opening?”

“He wasn’t my date. He works here. He offered to help with the project because he loves building gardens as much as I do. We’re friends.” Bradley had said as much yesterday. Kindness was a quality he valued in friends. Alfie didn’t look convinced.

“When does this project start?”

“Saturday.”

He arched an eyebrow. “And why am I just hearing about it?”

“It never came up.” I shrugged. “Is it a problem?”

“That’s going to depend on you.” Before I could ask him what he meant, he stood and kissed me on the mouth, tossing my papers onto my desk. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Alfie,” I said as he headed for the door, “why did you do this? Why did you come here today and do this right in my office?”

He shrugged. “You said you weren’t thinking about me. Now you’ll be thinking about me.”

I stared after him, speechless as he walked out the door.

As Alfie instructed, I did go to him that night and every night after.

A fuse lit inside me whenever we laid eyes on each other. The air became static and I let him lead me into his den of depravity, of limitless pleasure. Each time, I knew him better. Igrew used to the way he slept, the smell of him, watching him dress in the morning. Alfie the billionaire tycoon was becoming Alfie the human being, and I was sinking irrevocably further into his clutches.

By the time Saturday came, he was all I could think about. That was until my hands were in the dirt and I became absorbed by my greatest passion in life.

The spring sun bore down on my shoulders, and the rhythm of my spade falling in and out of the dirt was almost meditative. The garden was a hive of activity. Between parents and teachers I had more volunteers than I’d expected. I’d been nervous this morning when I’d had to climb up on the picnic table to give Bradley and everyone else their marching orders. It had suddenly hit me that everyone was counting on me to get this right. But now that everyone was hard at work and I was in the swing of things, we were making good progress.

I was digging out the brick pathway. I hadn’t been able to stretch the budget enough to buy the bricks but I’d managed to arrange a donation from a local construction company. I slammed my spade into the dirt, taking out my frustration on the earth that that same company had called me this morning cancelling the donation. They had excuses but it didn’t really matter. I chewed my lip as I dug into the ground, trying to figure out a plan B with precisely zero resources.

Setbacks were normal, I told myself.You’re Lola O’Connell. You’re a showgirl. You can figure it out.It was something I said to myself even when I didn’t feel it. My version of ‘fake it till you make it’.

“Lola!” I looked up to see Mrs Reed was walking over to me, her graying hair pulled back into a clip, her glasses hanging from a chain around her neck. She’d told me to call her Rebecca but I couldn’t. It felt wrong to call a teacher by their first name,she’d always be Mrs Reed to me. “A delivery has just arrived, a donation of compost bags. I didn’t know we’d arranged that?”

“We haven’t.” This was either going to be helpful or someone just wanted to get rid of their unusable stuff and had decided to dump it on us. “I’ll go and take a look.”

“Alright, also there’s someone here to see you. They’re parked out front.”

“Who? Another volunteer?” I put down my spade, wiping the sweat from my forehead.

“I don’t think so. He’s very good looking, expensive suit, expensive car. He certainly doesn’t look like a volunteer.”

Oh hell.Suddenly I was very grateful that Natalie and Ryan had football practice and couldn’t make it here today. I thanked her and hurried out of the garden.

I found Alfie in the car park, looking sorely out of place next to a delivery of compost bags. I could feel him studying me as I approached but behind his Raybans it was impossible to tell what he thought of my sweat patches and dirty clothes. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face, though. I was in my element today.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him, glad that there was no one around to watch us.

“I want to pull you away,” he said, slipping his hand into mine. “I’ve arranged to take you to London. We have seats for the opera. You said you’d never been before.” Had I said that? Probably, during one of our post-coital conversations.

I blinked at him. “Alfie, I’m busy.” I gestured at my dirt-covered self, at the bags of compost. “You knew I had plans today.”

“But you have volunteers. You have Bradley. He can do this for you.”

I raised my eyebrows. Suddenly, the surprise visit was making a lot more sense. “So, that’s what this is about? Getting me away from Bradley?”

“No, that’s just a bonus.”

I sighed, trying not to be frustrated by his attempt to manipulate me. Again. “Alfie, Bradley isn’t a threat and I want to be here. It’smyproject. I’ve been working on it for months.”

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