Page 66 of White Lies
And at fifty, she’s beautiful and devoted to one man, where Meredith Winter was devoted to many. “Happy fucking anniversary. Use my card and go to a ridiculously expensive dinner, and I need two things from you.”
“Item one,” she prods.
“I need a dress.”
She arches a brow. “Is there something you need to tell me, boss?”
“Royal blue. A slit in the front. Expensive.”
“I need more than that, starting with size.”
“Petite.”
She grimaces. “I’m good or I wouldn’t be working for you, but that isn’t good enough.”
“Look up artist Faith Winter. It’s for her. Make your best guess.”
“Am I shipping it to her?”
“Reid Winter Winery in Sonoma,” I say and hand her a sealed note. “Include this and have it delivered by tomorrow. And I need a gift to celebrate an artist’s success that says art. A necklace. A paintbrush. Both. I need options. Lots of options. I’ll know when I see it.”
Her eyes go wide. “Do I dare believe a woman finally has your attention?”
“I hope like hell the one standing in front of me.” I push to my feet. “I need to know where Montgomery Williams of SA National Bank is by the time I get to my car.”
“You have a deposition here in two hours.”
“Good thing this won’t take two hours.” I round the desk and head for the door, on a mission to see a man I despise and try not to think about the woman I can’t stop thinking about.
…
Considering I work in the financial district a few blocks from SA National, Montgomery Williams isn’t hard to find. He’s at a coffee shop a block from my office, and given that he’s short, fat, bald, and has a twenty-something girl sitting next to him with her hand on his plump thigh, I have no issue interrupting.
I walk to their booth and sit down across from them. “How’s the wife?” I ask. Montgomery turns red-faced. The girl straightens and looks awkward. I simply arch a brow.
She purses her ridiculously red lips. “I’ll see you tonight, honey.” She slides out of the booth.
“Was she talking to me or you?” I ask.
“What do you want, Rogers?”
“Faith Winter,” I say, and while I mean it in the literal sense, he simply registers the name.
“Why do you care about Faith Winter?”
Aside from the best blow job of my life, she’s as talented and intelligent as she is good in bed, but I leave out the details. “I’m representing her.”
“You work for some of the biggest companies on planet Earth. You don’t do probate.”
“I’ll supply a cashier’s check for a hundred and twenty thousand dollars, which covers her back payments and six additional months. In exchange, I want you to stop holding up the execution of the probate and drop all claims aside from the promissory note to the winery.”
“We want a reevaluation of the property before we agree to anything.”
“With what end game?”
“We’ll decide when we have the reevaluation.”
“And you ask why I’m involved,” I say. “I’m involved because we both know this isn’t just probate.” I lean closer. “And we both know you’re shitting your pants that I not only know you’re fucking around on your wife but that I’m now involved.”
