Page 135 of The Playboy

While my head was swarming with questions, my thumb was swiping the screen as I looked for the name I wanted, and when I finally found it, I hit Call.

“Macon, my man, what the fuck is up?” Jenner said after the second ring.

“A lot. That’s why I’m calling.”

I could have phoned Jo, his fiancée, but I wasn’t ready to have that conversation yet. I also could have reached out to Camden, but I knew what he would say.

Jenner would have a different point of view.

Because Jenner had been through something similar.

“What can I do to help you?”

I released all the air I’d been holding in my lungs, brushing my fingers through my wet hair. “She lied to me about her job, and then to make matters even worse, she went into Spade Hotels with a fake résumé. She felt like shit about it, so she came clean to Jo during the interview, but she didn’t say a word to me. I had to wait to learn the truth, which just happened a couple of minutes ago. Turns out, she’s the housekeeper here, and she came in to clean my bathroom while I was in the fucking shower. That’s how I found out the truth.”

I didn’t have to tell him who I was talking about. Jenner would know.

And I’d be shocked if he didn’t know Jo’s take on the story since I was sure she had told him after her interview with Brooklyn.

“And you want to know what I would do? Because the situations aren’t the same, but they’re not all that different either, am I right?”

I flattened my hand on top of my head. “Yes.”

“Let’s break this down. Yes, she lied to you, and you can be angry with her for that. Yes, she was dishonest about her résumé—another shitty check mark against her, which you can also be angry about. Since I can’t ask Brooklyn what her motive was, I have to put myself in her shoes and ask myself what I would do if I was faced with that scenario.” He turned quiet. “I’ll tell you what, buddy. If I was banging a Spade brother, heir to the Spade fortune, and I was a housekeeper at the hotel he was staying at, that wouldn’t be an easy conversation for me to have.”

“But would you lie?”

“Fuck.” He became silent again. “Maybe … and that’s an honest answer.”

“Even if I was bound to find out the truth?”

“I don’t know if that would stop me.”

I sat up, my feet falling to either side of the lounge chair. “You know how fucked up that is, don’t you?”

“Listen, have you ever driven a car like hers? Ever lived in an apartment that didn’t have a doorman and a rooftop pool? I know you haven’t because our families are the same. But is Brooklyn’s upbringing the same as ours? No. So, for just one second, see things through her eyes.”

“This isn’t about money, Jenner.”

“But in a roundabout way, it is, brother. She sees who you are and what you have, and she compares that to herself, and something about that locked her up where she didn’t want to tell you.”

I understood what he was saying.

But that didn’t ease the lie.

The way it was settling in my chest.

The way it was embedding in my heart because she’d felt like she couldn’t tell me.

“I hear you,” I growled.

“Do you?”

I did.

I just didn’t want to.

Because I wished none of this had happened.

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