Page 13 of Nothing But the Truth

“Sorry. The words were in my mouth; I was going to say something about dry cleaning, but nothing would come out. It was like I couldn’t—”

A thought struck her. A thought so crystal-clear and simultaneously irrational, she didn’t know what to do with it. She held it up in her mind like a puzzle piece, overlaying it on every bizarre thing that had happened that morning. And every time, it fit.

“Oh my god,” she muttered.

Oliver raised his arms above her head and pulled the scarf against her hair. He was no stranger to aiding in emergencies. At Joanna’s behest he had delivered replacement wardrobes to shoots, fixed busted stilettos, and surely found a spare headband to remedy a client’s bad hair day. It didn’t surprise Lucy in the least that he was ready to assist. “What? Lift,” he instructed.

She wadded her hair in her hands and lifted it from her neck. Oliver reached around and deftly tied the scarf taut against her skull. He yanked it tight so it wouldn’t slip, and the small rattling of her brain made her certain of a wild truth.

“Oliver, I can’t lie.”

She dropped her hair, and he set about tugging strands and adjusting the scarf. “What? Of course you can. Everyone can lie. And you’re a publicist; it’s literally part of your job...” His voice trailed off into a laugh, but Lucy swallowed a hard lump in her throat.

So far, the lies she couldn’t tell had all been personal—confessing to her mother about children, spin class, breakfast, what she said to her coworkers. She hadn’t thought about needing to lie for her job. She wasn’t a liar, but sometimes she needed to bend the truth to let people hear what they wanted to hear. People like celebrities who paid her to keep their public image pleasant.

As soon as she thought about her predicament, she realized just how many lies she told for her job: that dress looks great; you will bounce back; don’t worry, everything is fine. That last was the publicist gospel—telling eccentric public figures everything was fine. What would happen to her career if she had to tell every celebrity she worked for just how big the messes they made were and that everything was in fact not fine?

The thought made her knees weak. She collapsed into her chair.

“Oliver, this is serious. I think I’m in trouble.”

“What are you talking about?”

She knew she could be honest with him even if she sounded completely insane. He was the friend she’d run to if she ever traveled back in time and had to convince someone she was from the future. Nina was too logical to buy into things like that, but Oliver—Oliver would follow her into the time machine without question.

Still, she could see he was struggling with what she was telling him.

She knew it sounded crazy, but every word coming out of her mouth made her surer that she was right. It was all coming together. All making confusing, terrifying, but perfect sense.

“I mean, I can’t lie. When I tried to tell Joanna some excuse about my clothes, I literally couldn’t. Physically couldn’t. And it’s not only verbal lies—it’s like I have to tell the truth in all ways. I have to... act the truth.” She gasped and threw a hand over her lips. “Oliver! That explains it!” She popped from her chair and started pacing. “I didn’t go to spin class because I hate spin class; I just pretend that I like it. Lie. At breakfast, I ordered this bagel sandwich because it sounded delicious and I didn’t want yogurt and three blueberries like I normally eat. Lie. And then that guy on the street! I told off some guy harassing me and Nina when I normally would keep quiet even though I was upset. Lie. Not to mention what I said to my mother about the future grandchildren she may never have, and the things I’ve said to Annie, Mikayla, and Chase this morning. And when I was getting ready for work, I had this overwhelming urge not to do my hair, make up my whole face, or wear anything I stuff my body into each day because it’s a lie. The... costume I put on every day. It’s not me. It’s not the truth!”

Oliver stared at her, looking less like he’d follow her to that hypothetical time machine and more like he was going to ask if she was on drugs.

The pieces were still clicking in her head, coming together like frightening little mosaic tiles, and she needed someone on her side. Someone to believe her.

She reached for his arms. “Oliver, I know this sounds nuts, but I think this is really happening. I need you to help me prove it. Ask me something I’d normally lie about.”

His face moved from stunned disbelief to consideration to temptation faster than Lucy was comfortable with. The devilish glint in his eye made her hold up a finger.

“Don’t.”

He hummed a teasing laugh like he was toying with all sorts of cringeworthy options: the number of times she’d watched the Fifty Shades trilogy; what Caleb was like in bed; what she thought about his last boyfriend, but he kept it tame. “Fine. What color is my shirt?”

Pink, pink, pink.It was pink. Though Oliver would probably scold her for saying pink when it should have been salmon or blush. Whatever the color, it matched his socks like always. But that was beside the point. She knew what she had to do.

Green.Just say the word green.

She focused as hard as she could, fearing and somehow already knowing what was going to come out of her mouth.

“Your shirt is gre—”

She couldn’t do it. Although she could think it, the word wouldn’t come.

She cleared her throat and tried again.

“The shirt you are wearing is gr—” She clutched at her throat, feeling like her tongue was trying to strangle her.

Oliver’s mouth fell open. “Holy shit. You can’t lie.”

Lucy pressed her hands to her cheeks. “Oliver, this is not good.”

He checked his watch. “No, it doesn’t seem like it. But we’ve gotta go right now. Just keep your mouth shut at the stand-up, and we’ll reconvene after.”

She nervously nodded, trusting him to help her because she needed something to hold on to. She felt her hair and found the scarf snugly in place. “Thanks for the gift. How do I look?”

He tugged on a tendril. “You’ve kinda got a Lily James Cinderella thing going on now. It works. Let’s go.”

---