Page 18 of Whiskey Lies

He drops his head into his hands and rakes his hand through his hair, and I feel the loss immediately. “Fuck,” he rasps, as he looks up at me and then with a voice that scratches my heart, he asks “Are you leaving him?”

I tilt my head in a surprised sigh. “Cash, I’ve been hired to find you a wife. Married women aren’t wife material.” I try to reason with us both.

“I don’t want a fucking wife. I want you. Are you leaving him?”

“No,” I manage to whisper, keeping the shakiness from my voice.

His eyes harden. The man who was so desperate for me only moments before disappears before my very eyes. I barely recognize the face he wears, and it kills me to know that I’m the one who is changing him. Altering his being, just by refusing to return his feelings. By keeping the truth from him. If love were the antidote, I just handed him poison.

Turning away from me, he points to the door. “Then get out.”

“Cash,” I say softly.

The splintering of his bellowing cry makes me jump. “Get out!”

I attempt to stand and wobble on my heels. I grab the side of the chair before I go sideways, but Cash doesn’t lift a hand to help. He doesn’t even look at me. That’s how disgusted he is. That’s how done he is.

I take a breath and steady myself. This is going off the rails. “Cash, we had a wonderful weekend. Now we both have a job to do. We both knew our time was limited. Please, let me do my job.”

He raises his eyes to meet mine, the hurt evident in his every movement. “We had a wonderful weekend? Really? That’s all you have to say about it?”

Irritated at how badly this is all going, and really just overwhelmed by the fact that my luck is so horrible that this is the scenario we’re in, I snap, “What would you like me to say? I tried to stay away from you. I didn’t show up for our date and you sought me out at the bar, pushed yourself on me by the beach, and practically stuck your tongue down my throat. What was I supposed to do? You’re gorgeous, we were both seeking a release and a break, and we had one. We had a wonderful weekend, but now it’s time to grow up and deal with real life.”

He shakes his head and says bewilderedly, “I don’t even know who you are.”

“Precisely my point!” I say shrilly. “You don’t know me. That was intentional. I suggest we take a breather, and we can meet for lunch to discuss the details of my job.”

I run my hands down my dress, straightening it out, and Cash’s eyes fall to my rings. I see the pain flash in his eyes, but it’s gone just as quickly and is replaced with a cold detachment.

“I don’t want to work with you…I don’t want to see you again. If my grandmother wants me to find a wife, she’ll have to find someone else to do it.”

Fear grabs at my chest. I can’t lose this job. Because then this entire conversation—hurting Cash, breaking us both—will have been for nothing. Without this, I won’t get the promotion anyway and then I might as well have just told him the truth.

“Cash, I’m excellent at my job. There’s no one better. I’ll find someone for you that will make you forget I exist.”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, and for a moment I think he’s going to tell me to just leave.

I hold my breath, waiting for his reply.

“You know what, you’re right. If you cared about me even an inkling as much as I cared about you, then it will kill you to watch me find my future wife.” He meets my eyes, and knowing he’s hurting me, knowing how much this is going to gut me, he replies, “You’re hired.”

Chapter 6

Cash

“So good news,” my sister, Cat, says as she walks into my office without knocking. Her black hair swings as she plops down into the office chair that Grace had just relinquished. My sister has dark soulful eyes, and against her light, creamy skin, even I have to admit that she is what others would call a knockout. Right now though, as she sits in the chair across from me with an excited glint in her eye, I only see the older sister who is fiercely protective and my best friend.

“What’s that?” I ask dryly, not in the mood for anything good.

“I found her!”

I sit up straighter in my chair. Fuck, now Cat will know I fooled around with a married woman. Cheating is something we don’t tolerate. We watched our father cheat regularly, on our mother, at life, and on his time with us. It’s not something we’d ever tolerate from any one of us, and I’m ashamed I’ve found myself in this position—even if it was unknowingly.

I stand up and cross the room to the bar which sits by the window. Without asking, I pour whiskey into two of the glass tumblers.

“What are you doing?” Cat asks as she watches me cross the room to hand it back to her. “Why are we drinking? I found her! Your mystery woman! Your Grace!”

I sip the liquid and allow both the drink and her words to burn everything in its path. My Grace. Two words that will never be true. And that never were.

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