Beautiful Liar Page 9

  After I emptied, she wound her fingers in my hair and brought my face to hers, my mouth to hers. For a moment, I thought she’d speak, but then, she changed her mind and kissed me instead. And the sound of something—some weight lifted, perhaps—vibrated from her chest to mine as we remained locked together, bound together. One.

  FOR TWO WEEKS, things continued like this, with me going to his house at midnight. And each night, he had something different in store. I never knew until I was there, but one thing was sure. Each night, we fucked with a fury, a need that would take us into an abyss and just barely deliver us back. It was as though he and I together willingly stepped off the ledge, hand in hand—no, arms and legs entwined—neither of us knowing what the hell we were doing, neither of us caring, only knowing that without these nights, the mornings, the days, they would be too empty, too unbearable to live.

  Unbearable. What was I saying?

  I didn’t know what was happening between Slater and me. It didn’t make sense. He should hate me, but these nights together, they were so different than anything I would have ever imagined. All those years I’d been away I had wondered if he’d come looking for me. In a way, I knew he would. I even wanted him to. When Nick had hired me, I’d been too caught up in my own troubles to think anything about of the man he had wanted me to fuck. I didn’t even know his name until that night, and even then, even if it rang the tiniest bell of recognition, I didn’t put the setup together. Not until it was too late for Slater.

  I’d felt horrible when the photos hit the papers. I hadn’t known Nick would do that, and never had a chance to confront him because I never saw him again. Well, not in person. I did see him with Slater’s wife on his arm, their daughter on his lap. I’d figured out the setup was a joint effort between Nick and Slater’s wife, Dinah. Slater knew too. If there was any good to have come out of this, it was that Slater had learned the truth about the people he trusted most. The people he loved.

  I imagined what he felt. I tried to, at least, but I wasn’t sure anyone could imagine that if it didn’t happen to you. Why didn’t Dinah just ask for a divorce? Why did they ruin him? And what about his daughter? Would a time come when I could talk to Slater about it? We were growing closer. It was almost as though what we’d gone through together, even given our opposing roles, it had, in a way, worked like a solder. It had burned us both but had also bound us together at the same time.

  And now, here we were, years later.

  When my alarm went off again after the third time I’d hit Snooze, I switched it off and got up to take a shower. The late nights wore on me, but I craved them. I needed them. Him being here—it brought to light just how empty, how monotonous, how vacant my life was. For the last three years, I’d been existing. That was all. I’d forgotten—had I ever known?—about living. Living.

  I realized something in that moment. I had needed Slater to come for me. All those years, I’d been waiting. I needed him to punish me. Perhaps I needed him to forgive me. Was he doing that in action, not in words? He found something in me he needed as much as what I needed from him. I knew that, I felt it coming off him like a palpable thing. It was like I was the last thing, the final piece that he needed to grasp on to—his last chance.

  That thought frightened me. It was the desperation of it.

  When I arrived at the bookstore, I realized I didn’t remember driving there. I’d been too absorbed in my thoughts. I locked my car—even though it was only one of a handful, since it wasn’t quite opening time for any of the shops yet—then went into the bookstore and locked the door behind me. I’d be working the full day, and Amanda, a college student who’d taken a semester off to earn some money for a European trip, would work part of the day so I could get stock unpacked and returns taken care of.

  Bill hadn’t reappeared yet, not since leaving my house that day Slater had shown up. I’d given him the cash I had, two thousand dollars, and told him that was it. That I didn’t have any more. Although I hoped that would be my final meeting with him, I wasn’t naive enough to believe it would be. Slater hadn’t mentioned him again, and although I hoped telling him would ease my burden, I didn’t. After all, what right did I have to ease my burden by increasing his? Especially by increasing his. And even though we were growing closer, there were parts of our lives that seemed to be off-limits.

  His daughter, Mel, was one of those topics. He’d mention her now and again, some crazy antic or story, but they were all old remembrances, and I saw his pain when he talked about her. I felt it with him, his heartbreak. He hadn’t yet healed from the loss of her. But why didn’t he go back? Why didn’t he stake his claim to her? He was her father, he had rights. When I’d mentioned that, he’d shut down the conversation, had shut down entirely, in fact. He hadn’t touched me that night. Instead, he’d sent me home. I hadn’t asked again.

  I made myself a cappuccino, put the prepared muffins into the oven to bake, and headed to the stockroom, where I started on the returns. Bill’s presence two weeks ago had cast a dark shadow over this strange…elation…I felt when I thought about Slater. I knew he’d be back but had no idea when, and in the back of my mind, I thought of how I could cut ties with him permanently, how I could make him leave both me and Janey alone, out of our lives for good. And certainly Sadie’s. I wondered what—if—I should tell Slater. Tell him everything. Ask him for help.

  But did I have the right to tell Janey’s secret?

  “Morning!” Amanda’s voice came loud and clear across the shop and into the back room.

  “Good morning, Amanda,” I called out and checked my watch. It was ten o’clock, time to open the shop. I walked out of the stockroom. “How are you this morning?”

  Amanda pulled the shade up to let the bright sunshine in and turned the CLOSED sign around. “I’m great!”

  Amanda was always great. Upbeat to the point of being annoying, honestly, but she meant well. And quite frankly, I appreciated the ease of being around her.

  “New bestsellers are in.”

  “I see that,” she said, peeking at the stack I held. “Need some help unpacking?”

  The bell over the door rang then, and our first customer walked in. Mr. Hamish from a few blocks away.

  “Morning, Mr. Hamish,” I said.

  “Good morning, ladies. Just opened?”

  “Sure did. We could set our clock by you, Mr. Hamish!” Amanda chimed in.

  He smiled. He was almost eighty and lived alone since his wife passed away a few years ago. I figured he got pretty lonely at home.

  “Would you like your usual this morning? The muffins are still warm.”

  “I’d love that!” He made his way into the café part of the store, and Amanda went to make the coffee.

  “I’ll get these shelved and continue unpacking, Amanda. Holler if you need help.”

  “Will do.”

  I shelved the books on their appropriate shelves and returned to the back room, put on some music, and unpacked for the next few hours, shelving new books and sorting those that needed to be returned. I covered Amanda’s lunch break and spent most of the afternoon in the back room, only heading out front at a little after three o’clock.

  “Mind if I grab something to eat before you leave, Amanda?” She was scheduled to work another half hour.

  “Nope, go ahead. I’m fine to stay a few minutes longer today.”

  “Thanks.” Taking my coat off the rack by the front door, I went out to the parking lot, walked past my car, and continued walking to a nearby bagel shop. Although it was the dead of winter, the sun shone bright and the fresh air felt good. I took my order—a toasted sesame-seed bagel loaded with cream cheese and a cup of hot tea—to go and crossed the street. The sea was only two blocks away. It grew colder as I neared, but I didn’t care. I tightened my scarf and stepped onto the sandy beach, the sound and smell of briny seawater energizing as I made my way to a bench in the dunes. Not many locals came here during the day, and winter wasn’t peak tourist sea
son, so I had the beach to myself. I loved it here. I loved being so close to the water. Settling in on the bench, I drank my tea and ate my bagel as I listened to the sound of the seagulls, the waves crashing on the shore, the powerful wind. It relaxed me, made me feel safe in a way. Hidden here, sheltered by dunes and rock, out of reach of everyone.

  I thought about Slater. I wondered what he did while I worked. I didn’t know him in the daytime. What a strange thing.

  Twenty minutes later, the tip of my nose and my fingertips frozen, I stuffed the paper bag into the empty cup and made my way back to the bookstore. Amanda had her headphones in and sang along quietly as she leafed through one of the new books. She looked up when I came inside.

  “Hey, I hope I’m not too late?” I checked my watch. It was just five minutes past Amanda’s scheduled time.

  “No worries,” she said, tucking the earbuds and her iPhone into her pocket. She came around the counter. “Did you go to the beach?”

  “I probably look it, huh?” I asked, glancing at the mirror set on the far wall behind the coffee bar. Wisps of dark hair had come loose from my ponytail, and my face was flushed pink, the tip of my nose red.

  “You look great!”

  I hung my coat up, set my bag behind the counter, and pulled my hair out of its ponytail to brush it out. The bell over the door dinged, and I turned to look, not believing my eyes.

  “Well, hey, sis!” Janey called out, a huge smile spreading across her face.

  “Janey!” I ran to her, elated, surprised, shocked. Taking her into my arms, I squeezed her hard, tears trickling out of my eyes. “Oh my God. Janey!” It had been so long, and I’d missed her so much. I didn’t even realize how much until I hugged her again.

  “Mama.”

  I gasped, pulling back, and looked at my little sister. There, behind her, stood my niece hiding behind her mama’s coat, her little arms wrapped around one of Janey’s legs.

  “Oh my goodness. Is this Sadie?” I recognized her from photos and bent down to look at her little face, noticing immediately one midnight-blue eye, one violet eye. Our mother had had the mismatched eyes too. Sadie shied away from me, and Janey bent down to pick her up.

  “Sadie, this is your aunt Mac. Mac, meet Sadie.”

  I smiled as Sadie buried her face in Janey’s neck. “Wow.” It was all I could say. Apart from her eyes, she was a miniature version of my sister, with nothing of her father visible to the eye. I thanked God for that.

  “Think I can get a cup of coffee for myself and something to eat for Sadie?”

  “Oh! Yes, yes, of course!”

  “I didn’t know you had a sister and a niece!” Amanda said, coming over and patting Sadie’s head.

  “Amanda, this is Janey and Sadie. Guys, this is Amanda.”

  “Great to meet Mac’s family. I was starting to think she was a loner!”

  Janey cast a glance my way. “Nope, not a loner. It’s nice to meet you, Amanda.”

  “Hey, if you want me to stay…” Amanda offered.

  “No, that’s okay. I appreciate it, but I know you had plans.”

  “Okay, but tomorrow, if you need me to cover for you, ask. Have a good day!”

  “Bye, Amanda.”

  We watched her go, and Janey set Sadie down. She went directly to the rack of picture books.

  “Why don’t we grab one and bring it with us when we have something to eat,” Janey said, taking one book and winking at me. “She’ll tear the place down if you’re not careful.”

  “Wow, I can’t believe you’re here,” I said, hugging her again, both of us tearful when we pulled back.

  “I can’t believe I stayed away so long.”

  “How did you buy two tickets?” I asked.

  “Aunt Alice. She’s great. She lent me the money. Well, said it was for my birthday but I want to pay her back when I can. She’s done so much for us already.”

  I smiled. It felt right that she was here. She should have been with me all along. Why hadn’t I seen that? But right alongside those thoughts, as if to check my reality, Bill’s face came into my mind. He was here too. What if she saw him? What if he saw her?

  “You okay? You’re white as a ghost all of a sudden.”

  “Fine,” I muttered. I would have to tell her. I would have to tell her and ruin her surprise visit.

  We made our way to the café section of the store and settled Sadie at a table then went to the bar, where I made us two cups of coffee.

  “So, how are you?” she asked, taking the muffin I handed her and walking back to Sadie. “You sound different on the phone these days.”

  “I haven’t told you a few things.” That was an understatement. She didn’t know about me stripping, nor did she know about Slater. And she definitely did not know a thing about Bill.

  She cocked her head to the side while she worked on taking the paper wrapper off the muffin and handed half to Sadie. “I knew something was up.”

  I carried our coffees to the table and joined them. “Slater Vaughn is in town,” I said, sitting down.

  Her eyes nearly popped out of her head.

  “He’s my neighbor.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing coincidental or accidental about it. He sought me out and showed up. That’s all.”

  “That’s all? That’s not all.”

  I smiled, and the concern in Janey’s face gave way to something else, something mischievous.

  “So this is not a bad thing, I’m thinking?”

  I shook my head and picked up the spoon to stir the froth into my cappuccino. My face heated up at the question.

  Janey laughed. “MacKayla Simone, you have been holding out on me! How long has he been here? And are you two, what? Dating?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t say dating.” No, definitely not. “We’re just getting to know each other. I don’t think even he knew his intention when he found me, but, I don’t know, we’re just getting to know each other, and…”

  “You like him,” she said, her attention split between me and Sadie, who’d started on the second half of the muffin, adding to the mound of crumbs in her lap.

  “I guess I do.”

  We spent the next half hour visiting, and in the back of my mind was the knowledge that I wouldn’t see Slater tonight. I’d need to contact him and let him know something had come up. Would he understand? And why, as excited as I was to see my sister, did I feel a hint of disappointment?

  “I think I’d better put Sadie down for a nap,” Janey said. “How long are you working?

  I needed to tell her about Bill. She needed to know, to be prepared.

  “There’s one more thing, Janey.”

  She waited for me to continue, the pleased, playful smile disappearing off her face.

  “Bill was here two weeks ago.”

  “Bill? How? Why?” She sank back in her seat, her forehead creasing as she lifted Sadie off her seat and held her little girl tight in her lap.

  “He wanted money.”

  She shook her head, a look of disgust barely masking the panic beneath.

  “He knows you’re living with Aunt Alice. He said something that makes me think he’s been there and seen you and Sadie.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Mentioned her eyes.”

  “Shit.”

  “It’s okay. I haven’t seen him since I gave him the money he wanted.”

  “That’s why you called me, wasn’t it? Telling me you couldn’t send money.”

  I shrugged a shoulder. “It’s okay, it will be fine.”

  “No, it’s not okay. And you shouldn’t have to deal with him or give him anything. You owe him nothing. You can’t protect me forever, you know that, right?”

  “I wanted you to know because he came by the house. Slater was there. He saw him. I think he scared Bill a little, actually, so maybe he’s gone.” I knew he wasn’t, though.

  Sadie fussed in her arms. “She’s overtired.”

  “Go to my hou
se and put her down. Just lock the door. I don’t think he’ll be back there, and I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

  “We can’t run forever, Mac.”

  I nodded as I slid the house key off my key ring. “Maybe it’s good we face this and finally stop.”

  I gave Janey the key to my house along with directions, and she and Sadie left. The rest of the afternoon was unusually busy, and by the time I left, heavy clouds blew past, hinting at the coming storm. My car stood alone in the dark parking lot. I nervously glanced around, although I’d rather have Bill appear here than at home. But he didn’t, and I drove back home without incident.

  I STOOD IN the porch light as twilight fell, surveying the small toy in my hand. To keep busy during the days, I made toys for Mel. I’d discovered over the last few years that I liked working with my hands. Well, not so much discovered as I’d recovered a lost hobby from my teenage years. Managing a political career as well as a charity didn’t leave much room for hobbies. I had built Mel a dollhouse a while back, and ever since then, I had been making furniture for it. I shipped something off to her once a month or so. In the beginning, I used to call and ask Amelia if Mel received them. If she liked them and played with them, trying not to sound disappointed when my own excitement over the toys exceeded Mel’s. I spoke with Dinah only when absolutely necessary and only because, even knowing Mel wasn’t mine, I still couldn’t let her go. Wasn’t this supposed to be easier? Didn’t knowing she wasn’t my child make any difference? Apparently, not for me. I still loved my little girl.

  Guilt gnawed at me. I questioned daily what I’d done, how easily I’d left.

  But what choice had I had?

  The day I’d found out was the same day I’d learned it was Nick and Dinah who had paid MacKayla to sleep with me. I’d hired my own investigators, knowing the whole situation stank of a setup. And Dinah played her cards perfectly—using my love for Mel against me. When I told her I’d wanted custody, she’d just laughed at the joke that was on me and told me in the cruelest way possible, without a shred of remorse, not a damn thing in her voice. She’d simply said, “Good luck with that, since she’s not yours.”