Page 15 of A Secret and a Lie
Falling onto one of the bar seats at my kitchen island, I drop my head into my palm. I don’t have the patience for this. Sounding disinterested, I tell him, “I see. Well, you can tell yourfriendthat my books are closed. I’m not taking on any new clients, but I’d be happy to set him up with one of my ladies.”
“I told him that,” he rushes out nervously, and I wonder where he is and why the hell he’s calling me in public to discuss this. “But he was quite…persistent that it be you. Youarethe best, though, so I can understand.”
I wish I could say that I’m immune to flattery, but I’m not. Although, he’s going to have to do better than that if he wants me to relent. To my surprise, he adds in a hushed whisper, “He’s willing to pay.”
That captures my attention, and my left eyebrow arches as I take another sip of my drink in order to suppress a snort.That’s what they all say.When I don’t reply, he insists, “He’s good for it, I promise.”
Curiosity claws at my brain feverishly, like a house cat that escaped the warmth of a home in the dead of winter, begging to be let back inside. While I’d normally shut this shit down, something in my belly clenches. Trusting my gut, I ask, “Does yourfriendhave a name?”
The fact that I’m even entertaining this tells me just how exhausted I am. I don’t have it in me to put up much of a fight.
“Uh…Clark.”
I roll my eyes. It’s not uncommon for a client to give a fake name,which is clearly what’s happening here, but their identity never stays hidden for long.
Sighing, I fold like a house of cards. “I’llmeetwith him, but I make no promises. My assistant will send him the instructions. Tell him that he’ll need to pay the deposit before the meeting.”
“Yes, yes, I’ll tell him.” Henry sounds relieved.Why?
“And Henry?” I say sternly, using my Domme voice. “Thewholedeposit.”
I don’t need to tell him what that means. He knows.
Ford
Isnort as I read Drake’s text.
Drake: I’m coming over. Need to use your gym. This one sucks.
“You do realize that I own the gym that you claim sucks,” I tell my best friend not ten minutes later as he strides into my home gym. He chuckles behind me as I shut off the treadmill after my three-mile warmup.
With a smirk, he shrugs. “This one’s better.”
“So, why are you really here at five in the morning?” I ask, calling him out on his shit.
He laughs, the sound too bright at this ridiculous hour. “I wanted to come see my broody asshole of a friend.”
My eyebrows arch as I wait for him to give me the real answer, dragging a towel down my face before picking up a set of dumbbells for some lateral raises.
Drake chuckles as he settles onto the stationary bike. He’s the only other person with a key to my place, but I know it’s safe with him. He’s the only family I have left and he’s not technically family at all.
“Fine, fine. I wanted to check out the Choi crime scene again before going into the office. This was just convenient.”
I snort, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “So, you’re just using me.”
“Your sparkling personality is hard to resist.”
I shake my head, though a smile threatens to consume my mouth. Moving to the stereo system, I press a few buttons and Nickelback’s “Something in Your Mouth” filters through the gym.
“You know music has progressed past 2008, right?”
“Fuck off, these are American classics, like horror movies, hot dogs at baseball games, and apple fucking pie.” Music peaked with these divorced dad bangers, and I’ll be listening to this shit until I die, despite not being a dad nor divorced even once in my life.
“I’m not sure I’d pair Nickelback with an apple pie, but I suppose I’m game to give it a try,” he remarks, his voice growing slightly strained as he pedals.
As we both settle into our routines of reps and sets, we fall silent. It’s not until we’re both cooling down that Drake asks, “How’s your assignment going? Have you met the madam yet?”
“Next week. In the meantime, she sent me a stack of forms thicker than the Constitution to fill out.”
