Page 4 of Sweet Lies

“You look perfect tonight, Bec, as always.”

My hand instinctively goes to my hair, making sure it’s all in place and no strands have slipped from between the pins.

I give her a small smile, and she bounces off.

Claire and Elijah live for these events. They love watching the others, trying to find weakness they might use against them someday. Everyone in this room was much the same, and the last thing I wanted was to be the one to give something away. I was much safer in my room.

I start away from my wall, hidden slightly by a collection of large potted plants, when I catch sight of Nick Flavio out of the corner of my eye. He’s speaking with his father—one of my dad’s enforcers.

When he catches me staring, he smiles, and my stomach does a flip. We’ve spoken a handful of times over the last few months, and I’ve caught myself fantasizing once or twice about seeing him more. I’ve not told Claire, as she would blow it out of portion. It’s a schoolgirl crush—I’m not naïve enough to think it could be anything more. He’s not Andre, after all.

It’s been interesting to see Andre’s eyes flash when I talk to Nick, though. For someone who’s always in control of himself, he seems irritable when Nick’s around.

Nick steps around his father and starts toward me. Or at least I think he’s coming my way. Glancing around, I try to find someone else nearby he could be aiming for but see no one.

I’m not the only one with a thing for Nick. Others have spoken about his charms and good looks, the more brazen discussing how good a kisser he is in the bathroom when they thought no one else was around. I’d have nothing to compare it to since I’ve never been kissed. No one pays me much attention, which I’m thankful for most of the time. But the more I think about it, the more I want to have my first kiss. I’d like to be the girl in the room who’s desired. It’s a catch twenty-two—I can’t seem to win and have it both ways.

My stomach swishes as he draws closer and my mouth goes dry.What to talk about? My nerves are running away from me with each step he takes. I don’t want to look stupid in front of him, having done that more than a few times. I want him to find me alluring, but I’m the girl who would prefer to be reading in my room.Not all that alluring.

What would Claire do? She has a way with guys. They all seem to follow her around. I could make a break for it and pretend I didn’t see him. Am I that big of a chicken?Yes. Yes, I am, I think as I take a step toward the exit.

“Rebecca! I didn’t see you there. You have a…good-looking hiding spot,” he states, stepping closer, his hand raking through his dark hair before resting in the front pocket of his black pants. He smells of booze and spearmint gum.

“Ah. Yes…”

I need to come up with something a hell of lot better.

“We have a good turnout,” I say, trying to talk about anything besides the weather. But as soon as I think that, I add, “No rain either.”

Why does my brain hate me? If I could kick myself without making myself look stranger, I would. Claire wouldn’t be speaking about the lack of rain.

He appears startled by my topic choice, and I can’t blame him. “Yeah, not bad at all. What are you doing hiding over here?” he asks, moving closer.

My personal space is narrowing between the wall behind me, the plants to my left and him in front.

“Making sure everyone’s having a good time. You can’t have any empty glasses floating around. Easy to spot them from this angle.”

As far as lies go, it could have been worse. I’m not sure how at the moment, but I’m sure when I’m falling asleep tonight, I’ll come up with some ideas.

He laughs. “Don’t you have staff wandering around for that purpose?” he asks, pointing out the servers.

I attempt a laugh. “Yes, but it never hurts to be on top of things.”

The staff was used to me being involved. I was never afraid to sit down and help polish the silver when needed. We got the job done quicker, and then we could all move on to better things, plus I got to make sure everything was a certain way, which is the more selfish and honest answer.

“You’re very different,” he states, looking back down at me. There was something in his tone I couldn’t place. It didn’t sound like an insult, but wasn’t a compliment.

“Ahh,” I start again, trying to save myself from making things worse.

He interrupts me before I can continue. “We should go out sometime.”

I’m shocked at his offer and feel myself blush. He wants to go out with me? Me? But why? Maybe the weather was a more stimulating conversation topic than I’d thought, but I highly doubt it.

“Yes. I would love—” I try not to stumble over the words, but they sound weird coming out my mouth in reaction to being asked out.

“Cool. Cool,” he interrupts. “I’ll text you.”

He pulls out his phone and looks at the time before asking, “Did you see where Claire went?”

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