Fraud

by J. L. Berg

  I grinned. “So, does that mean you’ll go out with me again?”

  “Maybe, although, if I declined, I think I’d be in serious trouble.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  She motioned behind me.

  Not too far away, at the edge of the parking lot, was the same group of girls, gathered close together, their eyes following me.

  “The girl in the green?” Kate pointed out. “She’s my student assistant. Now that she’s seen us, she’d never forgive me if I said no.”

  I laughed. “So, you’re doing this for her then?”

  “Let’s call it half and half.”

  “When is her next shift with you? Sometime today?” I asked.

  “Two o’clock, I believe. Why?”

  “Just giving you more to talk about,” I said right before taking a solid step forward.

  Her eyes widened a split second before my mouth fell on hers.

  A quick flick of my tongue, and I discovered she tasted like coffee and endless possibilities. I felt her gasp the moment my body pressed into hers. And, just as swift as it’d started, I pulled away.

  Leaving her flustered, bewildered, and needing more.

  “I’ve been wanting to do that since last night,” I said, remembering our brief good-bye in the restaurant parking lot.

  She touched her fingers to her lips as her eyes met mine.

  “Still half and half?” I asked, my hands casually settling in my pockets as I started to walk away.

  “Huh?” she asked, somewhat bewildered.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment. I’ll pick you up at seven. Text me your address.”

  Knowing she was still standing there, next to her car, watching me walk away, I did so slowly, letting her appreciate the view.

  But little did she know, every part of me ached to turn back, which was exactly what I had been afraid of.

  It seemed Miss O’Malley was getting under my skin, and I had no idea what to do about it.

  “WHO WAS THAT?” AMY, MY incredibly nosy student assistant asked the second she appeared in my cubicle.

  She wore her signature ripped jeans and brightly colored T-shirt that proudly bore the name of her sorority, making it sometimes hard to spot her amongst the two-thousand other students around here wearing the same exact thing.

  But not today.

  The moment Amy and her friends had walked by and I had seen that gleam of dark brown hair, I knew I’d been caught red-handed.

  “A guy,” I stated, trying to appear aloof and nonchalant.

  I was anything but.

  That kiss…

  That kiss had come out of nowhere.

  Surprising me. Delighting me.

  Disturbing me in the greatest possible way.

  “I know, but what guy? What is his name? How long have you two been dating? Is he a good kisser?” she asked, firing away questions faster than I could register them.

  My attempt at playing it cool faltered as my face cracked into a huge grin.

  Looking around, I summoned her closer. “His name is Killian. One date, and, God, yes!” I said, my lips still tingling from the sensation of that kiss.

  She made a high-pitched squeal, and I shushed her with my hands.

  “Why are you being so secretive?” she asked quietly, taking a seat in the extra chair I had stashed in the corner.

  “Because,” I explained, “the second everyone finds out, I won’t hear the end of it. It will go from one date to wedding planning in five seconds flat, and I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.”

  “You guys really do have an unhealthy interest in each other’s lives,” she commented.

  I handed her a pile of papers to file. “Oh, like you don’t know every tiny detail of your friends’ lives.”

  She shrugged. “Yeah, but those are my friends, my sorority sisters. Not my coworkers.” Her features scrunched together, like she’d just tasted a sour grape.

  It was times like these when the small age gap between me and someone like Amy felt less like six years and more like twenty.

  “Someday, you’re going to be all grown-up, too,” I joked. “And you’ll be talking to your coworkers about bad dates and family troubles. Heck, you might even consider some of those coworkers friends outside of work.”

  She shook her head. “Nope. I’m holding out for Prince Harry. If he can date an American actress, there’s no reason he can’t date a beautiful and vibrant young college student. He just needs to realize we were made for each other.”

  “Right. And what does Josh think of this?” I asked.

  Amy had been dating Josh since their sophomore year. Now that they were both seniors, I thought reality was starting to sink in for them.

  Amy didn’t want to grow up yet.

  Hell, I didn’t blame her.

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Things between us are weird right now. He keeps saying he wants us to have a plan. ‘We need to have a plan, Amy!’” she said, imitating Josh’s deep voice. “But I don’t even know what that means. Individual plans for each of us or a single plan for us as a couple? Because the two are very different.”

  “Have you asked him?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m too afraid to hear the answer. Part of me wants to have a plan, you know? The two of us against the world, but I’m so young. What if I make a mistake by settling down with my college boyfriend? What if I make a mistake by walking away?”

  I wish I had advice for her.

  I wish I could tell her that love never faded. That, no matter what, Josh would wait for her.

  But I couldn’t.

  Because life didn’t always work like that.

  A boy was going to be in my house.

  Scratch that.

  A man…a really, hot, honest to god man was going to be stepping foot in my house.

  Soon.

  Early, I’d been casually getting ready, enjoying the process of dressing up for the second time in a week. I shaved my legs, curled my hair, and walked around in my robe while I contemplated what to wear.

  It felt indulgent and satisfying.

  Even Loki seemed to be enjoying my change in temperament, cuddling up next to me on the couch, while I drank a hot cup of tea.

  But then reality set in.

  I wasn’t just going on a date.

  I was being picked up.

  In an hour!

  A sudden look around my place caused a rush of panic.

  Who had picked out those curtains? Did they always have ugly blue flowers on them? Maybe I should clean the bathroom. What if he was allergic to cats?

  These questions plus a million more swam through my mind as I jumped up, unceremoniously dumping poor Loki on the floor, and I got to work.

  First was the kitchen. I was fairly neat and usually did a good job of keeping up on the small amount of dishes I used on a daily basis. But that didn’t stop me from running a damp cloth over the counters and stuffing a few possibly embarrassing things in the cabinets.

  The Cookie Monster jar that I kept fully stocked at all times? Now hidden behind several pots and pans. The picture of me with frosting all over my face from my first birthday? Tucked inside a cookbook.

  I did this same thing for every room.

  I quickly realized I didn’t have enough storage to hide the amount of lameness in my house. It shone through, like a bright neon sign written across my forehead.

  I was boring.

  From the stacks of books to my never-ending collections of crap I’d insisted on keeping, I was the epitome of dull. My home reflected the solitary life I’d been leading since college. Ever since Jane had run back to New York, ready to conquer the world, I’d been slowly retreating from it.

  As the months and years had faded away, so had the handful of friends I still had around. One could only say no so many times before the offers ceased altogether, and that was exactly what had happened.

  “Kate, come hang out with us.”

 
“Kate, it’s my birthday. Please?”

  Until, finally, there was just me.

  I didn’t know why I’d let everyone go. Jane had seemed to think it stemmed from loss, but whenever she’d brought it up, I’d cut her off.

  I was good at diverting certain topics, even with a pushy friend like her.

  So, I’d made a world inside this small apartment.

  And, now, I was about to share it…whether I liked it or not.

  Finishing my mad dash around the bedroom, I gathered up a few loose pieces of clothing and hid them away in the closet just as the doorbell rang.

  I swore under my breath, feeling my nerves rising.

  Last night had been easy.

  No expectations, no personal addresses involved. Just two strangers meeting for dinner.

  Tonight though?

  My palms felt clammy as I walked the short distance to the door.

  The instant my eyes met with his, the tension eased a bit. That charming smile he carried everywhere was fully intact as he took a long, appreciative glance down my body.

  Okay, so maybe meeting here did have its advantages.

  “You look great,” he said, leaning forward to gently kiss my cheek.

  I hadn’t expected it, and the feel of his body close to mine once again made my heart instantly race.

  “Thank you,” I replied.

  “You didn’t let me finish.” He grinned. “You look great, but I’m going to have to ask you to change.”

  Confusion hit hard as I eyed my new black dress that I’d bought especially for tonight. It hadn’t been easy either. The simple task had required me driving downtown like a madwoman in order to make it to the high-priced boutique Jane had recommended. Thankfully, Jane knew retail, and the trip had been painless.

  Well, nearly.

  The bill had left my head spinning for some time.

  “Why?” I finally asked.

  He motioned to himself, and it was then that I noticed the stark difference in our attire. While he looked like he was ready to go run an errand or hit up a movie, I was dressed far nicer in my new curve-hugging dress that had cost more than a month’s worth of rent.

  “We’re doing casual tonight. I should have warned you,” he said before adding, “Actually, I’m glad I didn’t. Otherwise, who knows how long I would have had to go before seeing this little black number on you.”

  I smiled. “Sure you don’t want me to keep it on?”

  Am I flirting?

  Jane would be so proud.

  “As much as I want to say yes, I would feel terrible if you were freezing all night.”

  “Freezing?” I asked.

  “Nope,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s a surprise. I’ll wait in here while you go change.”

  I’d been so caught up in him staring at me, I’d completely forgotten to invite him in.

  Realizing we were both awkwardly standing at the threshold of my apartment, I took action. “Yes. Sorry. Make yourself at home.”

  I said a silent prayer that he wouldn’t find all the junk I’d hidden around, and I made my way to the back bedroom. My apartment was small, so small I could hear his footsteps as they made a long path around the living room.

  Where was my laptop?

  I’d been so concerned with what he would think of me that I’d forgotten all about the other me.

  This double-life thing was tougher than I’d thought, especially when dating was involved.

  Sprinting around the room, I threw on a pair of dark jeans and an emerald-green sweater. Running a brush through my hair, I grabbed a pair of boots and practically ran back into the living room.

  I found him in nearly the same spot I’d left him in, staring at old photos near my dining table.

  No Laura Stone paraphernalia anywhere.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, I made a mental note to buy a filing cabinet.

  One that locked.

  That was one aspect of my life I did not want to explain—at least, not yet.

  Maybe not ever.

  “Who’s this in the water with you?” Killian asked, pointing to a faded Polaroid on the mantel.

  “Um, no one special. You ready to go?” I asked, hoping he wouldn’t notice my unease.

  “Sure, let’s go.”

  I followed him out, turning off the lights and locking the door to my apartment.

  And all the memories it held.

  “This is where we’re going?” I asked as we pulled up to a deserted parking lot along the shore.

  “You’ve never had a picnic at the beach?” he asked as the engine cut off.

  I could hear the gentle sound of the waves coming in, one after the other. It was peaceful and calming even if I couldn’t see them.

  “No. Well, I mean, yes, but usually during the day.”

  He smiled, grabbing the keys from the ignition, and then he pushed open the driver’s door. “Exactly, which is why we’re doing it at night.”

  I couldn’t find any reason to protest his logic, so I followed his lead.

  He popped open the trunk and pulled out several grocery bags. “I did warn you, my knowledge of food around here doesn’t extend much further than fast food or the grocery store.”

  I nodded. “You did.” Helping him out, I grabbed the last of the groceries and tagged along behind him down the beach. “I guess this means, no fast food?” I asked.

  He took my hand and helped me around a large boulder. The Oregon Coast was rocky, and it took a bit of concentration to navigate the darkened path.

  “Not tonight.” He laughed.

  Once we made it to the sand, it was much less treacherous. We walked side by side, listening to the waves crash, as he pointed to several other people enjoying the evening.

  “I don’t remember the last time I was actually at a beach,” he commented as we found a place in the sand, not too far from the water.

  “I used to go all the time,” I said. “I grew up a few hours from here.”

  “Is that why you went to Fremont?” he asked. “To be close to your family?”

  I’d settled on the task of unloading some of the bags we’d brought down. But, the moment he mentioned family, I faltered, dropping an entire bag on the ground.

  “Sorry,” I said, reaching down to survey the damage. Luckily, nothing breakable was inside. Just a few bags of marshmallows and chocolate.

  “Are you planning on feeding the entire beach?” I asked.

  “I wasn’t sure what you liked,” he admitted. “So, I grabbed a little bit of everything.”

  “But why so many marshmallows?”

  “I didn’t know which ones to use.”

  I looked strangely at him, holding back a grin. “Which ones? There’s more than one?”

  He grabbed the bag and dumped it out in front of me. Small and large marshmallows, organic and name-brand.

  “Wow.”

  “I’m from New York,” he explained. “The closest thing to s’mores I got as a kid was an experiment in the toaster oven.”

  “You burned the house down, didn’t you?” I joked.

  “No—well, almost.” He laughed. “I blamed it on my little brother.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “He deserved it. Still does,” he replied. “Do you have any siblings?”

  I swallowed audibly. “No,” I answered before quickly moving on, “You do know, there’s a no-fire rule on this beach.”

  His eyes grew wide as I held up a bag of marshmallows.

  “Shit! Can I interest you in plain marshmallows and wine then?”

  My eyes had adjusted to the lack of light now, and even under the moonlight, I could see how gorgeous his smile was, how it gave me hope for more, even when my mind was telling me to run.

  “Sounds perfect,” I replied.

  He’d thankfully thought of everything, and soon, we not only had marshmallows, but also fresh cheese, juicy, ripe fruit, and a loaf of French bread.

  “Sorry about the col
d,” he said as I pulled my jacket a bit tighter.

  “It’s not that bad.”

  “It’d be even warmer if you were closer,” he said.

  My belly did a little flip-flop, but I complied, scooting toward his warm body.

  “Better?” he asked.

  I nodded as the warmth of his body melted into mine. I should have been nervous. After all, I’d only met this man a few days earlier. But, somehow, he made me feel at ease, as if we’d known each other far longer.

  It wasn’t usual for me to click so quickly with another person. But, with Killian, it was easy.

  “How’s the job hunt going?” I asked as we snacked on cheese, fruit and bread, saving the marshmallows for later.

  “It’s slow,” he admitted.

  “I can’t believe you moved across the country without a job.”

  “Or an apartment,” he added.

  “Isn’t that scary?” I asked, unable to imagine myself doing anything remotely similar.

  “Yeah, but that’s the fun part—the unknown. In New York, every day was the same. I woke up, went to work, came home. It was easy and safe. But what is the fun in safe?”

  I shook my head. “But what if it all goes to hell? What if you don’t find a job? Or a place to live? What if you run out of money?” I turned to him, seeing his lazy grin.

  “Then, at least, I’ll have the memory of you and me on this beach.”

  His words sent goose bumps down my spine.

  “You make it sound so simple,” I said.

  “It is,” he replied. “We’re young, Kate. This is the time for seeking out adventure and making mistakes.”

  “I thought that was the speech you recited in high school when you were caught doing something bad.”

  He chuckled. “It still applies. You act as though your life is already settled. Come on, tell me something you’ve always wanted to do but never had the courage.”

  I bit my lip, contemplating my answer.

  There were so many things.

  Go on a vacation—a real one. Get married. Quit my job, and do nothing but write all day.

  “Go skinny-dipping,” I said bravely.

  His eyebrows rose in pure delight. “Well, hell, I can take care of that one right now.”

  “What?” I said, feeling a sharp jolt of excitement pump through my veins.