Page 10 of The Deception: Hercules Valentine and I
Another ironwork art piece that’s attached to the wall passively catches my attention. “No, I haven’t,” I say in a high-pitched voice. I really haven’t. Every interaction I’ve had so far with Hercules has been awkward and highly stressful, but I can’t imagine how she found sexual tension in the way I’ve been fumbling my words and nearly hyperventilating in his presence.
“Don’t worry. I don’t think Mason has picked up on what’s going on between you two. He’s always the last person to figure it out.”
We’re heading up another flight of stairs. “Nothing is happening between us.”Unfortunately.
“But I don’t know if he’s safe to date,” she says.
The fact that she totally ignored me doesn’t escape me. “Why do you think he’s not safe?”
She shrugs as we pass an alcove with a door and head up another set of stairs. “Just a hunch.”
“Does he have a reputation?”
“No reputation.”
“Then why the hunch?”
She shrugs again.
I shake my head as I sigh, feeling a sense of loss at what I’m going to say next. “It doesn’t matter anyway because I think he’s with Lilith Cope.”
Finally, we reach the top floor after walking up six flights of stairs. There’s another alcove with only one door to enter.
“By the way, you’re a rock star, Lark. Usually, when I bring people on this trek, they conk out by the third floor. You’re in good shape.”
I scan the area, looking for a hallway. “I’m a runner. Are you the only one who lives on this floor?”
Lake uses a keycard to open the first of three locks. “Yes. I know… great find. I got lucky. I knew somebody who knew somebody who knew somebody and ended up landing this great apartment. And it’s rent-controlled. Ta-da!” She pushes the door open.
The space is wide-open and appears to extend from one side of the building to the other. She has it decorated so quaintly, with a yellow velvet L-shaped sectional facing large windows with a stellar view of the building across the street. There’s a standard dining room set in one corner of the space with an adjacent kitchen. On the opposite side the room is a full-on studio. Knickknacks and figurines have been placed on just about every surface. There’s so much to take in.
“Wow. This is nice,” I say, observing the paintings sitting on a number of easels. Some of the works are complete, and some are not.
Lake drops her coat on the back of the sofa. “I know. Let me have your coat. I want you to make yourself comfortable, loosen up.”
I spot the kitchen and hallway as I take off my coat and hand it to Lake. “My place isn’t even a quarter the size of this place.”
She tosses my coat next to hers. “There’s going to be an opening in two months. I can make sure you’re in the running. I have some pull in these parts, you know.”
Just thinking about being her neighbor makes my insides vibrate with delight.How fun would that be?But Lake is friends with Lark Davenport and not the scheming Paisley Grove.
“I like it,” I say, giving the space another once-over. “But I prefer to be close to the job.”That’s a lie. I would totally move into the empty unit if I could.
She nods understandingly as she tosses her keycards into a glass bowl that sits on a table against the wall. “I get it. You live off the High Line, right?”
I nod as she pulls her shirt off and heads over to the art studio. “Yeah, I do,” I say, folding my arms, feeling uncomfortable.
My uneasiness isn’t merely because she’s taking off her clothes in front of me. It’s because of why she’s doing it—Lake trusts me.If she knew the truth, would she hate me for being a liar?
“I bet you pay a premium for that shoebox. By the way, come over here and take off your clothes.”
I jerk my head back. “What? Why?”
She pulls her pants down. “You’ll see. And I mean all of your clothes.” Now her panties are off.
I can’t move an inch.
“Don’t worry, Lark. I’m strictly Mason’s-dickly. I mean…” She crosses her fingers on both hands.
