Liar (a FAUX-MANCE novel)

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Liar (a FAUX-MANCE novel) Page 7

by Stephanie St. Klaire


  “He said he knew who I was even when I didn’t know who he was. Tony. I think this is more than a game to him. He isn’t bored at all, or looking to give a little ribbing to Phillip and the rest of the Chancellors, is he?” Tony’s grin widened. She was finally starting to see what he saw all along, or was she? “It’s about the proposal! He’s secretly interviewing me, isn’t he? That’s what all of this is about and why he wants to get to know me and see how I do in uncomfortable situations.”

  “Oh, dear, Cori…” Tony’s head dropped, and he began to shake it. “Not everything has to do with work. I think this is more personal than that. I think he—”

  “Oh no!” she shouted as the bulk of her white chocolate mocha spilled all over Tony’s feet. He squinted in pain at the scalding of Cori’s extra hot coffee. She grabbed a nearby roll of paper towels Tony kept behind the counter and went to work on the mess.

  The doors swung open, and Nick strolled in, turning right to Tony’s desk. When he saw the man’s strained red face and head tossed back, he became concerned. Especially as he got closer and heard the “oohs” and “ahhs” escaping him.

  That was…until he saw Cori pop up from behind the desk, right in front of him, on her knees. That concern took on a whole new meaning in that moment. Three mornings in a row now, he found the two of them in some awkward state. He reminded himself their relationship was innocent, a father-daughter type.

  “Do I even want to know?” Nick asked.

  “I get my coffee extra hot,” she replied, still making no sense of the situation.

  “And the relevance of that is…?”

  Tony turned to Nick, his sweat glazed brow glistening in the light. “She spilled it. She spilled it all over my ankles and feet.”

  Though laughing wasn’t appropriate in the moment, Nick couldn’t help but chuckle inside. “Should I send for ice? I can have Eve send some down from my office.”

  “I’ll be fine. Couple ice packs in my first aid kit back here. I’ll dig those out. I also have an extra pair of socks and shoes in my locker. Raquel will be pleased to know she was right and having an extra set was handy,” he said, referring to his wife.

  “Hey, Cori, you may want to get up,” Nick said.

  She looked around at the spying eyes, realizing just how precarious their situation looked, and launched to her feet. “Oh no. Oh my…how embarrassing.”

  Tony disappeared through the doors, behind his large security desk, to the locker room, where he was likely cleaning off his feet and getting fresh socks and shoes together. That left Cori and Nick to talk.

  “It’s cake day. Meet you down here around noon?” Nick asked.

  “Noon? The tasting isn’t until two.”

  “I thought we could grab lunch on the way and go over…last minute details. Get prepared,” he said.

  “Right. Prepared. Sure. Meet for a nooner, then cake. Got it,” she said, realizing what she just said when Nick’s eyes went wide in surprise. “I mean meet at noon, not have a nooner, because that would be…weird…and totally…inappropriate. And I’ll just stop talking now. You know what I mean.”

  With a blushed smile and wink, he headed for the elevator that led to his executive suite, but not before saying, “I’ll see you then.”

  She buried her face in her hands and said to herself, “Why do I make such a fool out of myself in front of him all the time?”

  Tony had stepped back behind the desk. “Cordelia Daschel, did I just hear you offer your boss a nooner? What has gotten into you?”

  “Ugh.”

  CHAPTER 10

  It was a shut-the-office-door-and-close-the-blinds kind of morning already. The day can only get better from here, Cori thought. And she was right. Hanging from the back of her office door was a black and gold signature Gwendolyn Brock garment bag.

  When she opened it, a note hung from the interior hanger from Gwen herself.

  It was a pleasure meeting and working with you. I think this dress and style marks your new signature look, dear. If you have any problems at all, please contact me directly. – G

  Affixed to the note was a business card with Gwendolyn’s personal number on it. How was that for stepping up in the world? The note, as flattering as it was, had been forgotten the minute Cori pulled the dress out.

  It was a lovely, bold, spring floral print, a tad above the knee in length, sleeveless, with a deep V neckline. The full skirt had pockets, which for some odd reason, became her favorite feature. Also in the bag, Cori found accessories and a handbag, as well as a bright red pair of strappy heels. She couldn’t help but feel like a princess as she packed all the lovely new things back in her bag.

  A buzz from her cellphone, on her desk, caught her attention. It was from Nick, and something suddenly felt off.

  Don’t go online today. I have people working on it. See you at noon. - Nick

  Cryptic, she thought, and that’s never good. She shot back a reply.

  Working on what? By the way, the dress is just lovely. Thank you. – C

  She sat and stared at her phone, willing him to answer quickly, but it took several minutes.

  Don’t worry about it. It will be down by noon. And I’m certain you are what will make the dress lovely. – Nick

  Though flattered by his remarks, she wasn’t swayed from looking online for whatever she wasn’t supposed to be looking for. If he didn’t want to tell her, she would figure it out for herself. Not knowing what she was looking for, she went straight to the web for current news stories and scoured every article. She found nothing.

  While thinking about what to search next, her phone buzzed again, only this time it was James texting her. He didn’t typically text during the day unless it was urgent since they were both busy.

  Girl, either you neglected to tell me something juicy, or you’re really playing this up.

  What was with the men in her life? Another cryptic message. She texted back a series of question marks only, hoping he would elaborate, because this was really starting to bother her.

  You and Blackthorne getting cozy. Gwendolyn freaking Brock. Wedding dresses?!

  Oh, that, she thought. But how did he know about that, and what did getting cozy mean? With a place to start, she did a quick internet search using just their names, and then it all came flooding in. She was all over the internet, as was Nick, kissing her.

  Whoever snapped the pics managed to get Gwendolyn and all her garment bags coming and going as well, and given the fact they all said Wedding Collection on them, it was pretty clear what was going on. Especially when the pictures included Cori, Nick, and Gwendolyn together. No spin there; it all really happened.

  She texted James back.

  OH SHIT!

  Then she sent Nick a message, somewhat panicking. Their little game just got a whole lot bigger.

  Oh my God. We are everywhere!

  Nick immediately fired back by calling her desk phone.

  “I told you not to look.”

  “Which always means hurry up and look! Who wouldn’t after your cryptic messages?” she spat before tossing him a little sarcasm. “And hello to you too, Blackthorne.”

  “I’m sorry. My people are handling it. Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I am,” she said, stretching the phone cord to the window so she could peek through the blinds. “I think everyone knows. The gossip clusters are assembling and looking this way. No wonder everyone was so hard at work when I came in. They think I’m marrying the boss and they’ll benefit from that. I guess it isn’t so bad if you look at it that way.”

  He was silent for a moment, to the point where she looked to make sure the little green light was on indicating they were still connected. “You thought being my fiancé would be bad?”

  “No. Not at all. I just mean…I don’t know…I was looking for a silver lining. This thing has gotten bigger than we planned. Now what do we do?”

  An ornery chuckle came across the line. “Or was it exactly what we needed?
Meet me downstairs, fifteen minutes, we’re leaving early. Bring your dress.”

  “Wait, early? I have work—”

  “Fifteen minutes,” he interrupted before hanging up.

  Nick was waiting in the lobby, talking to Tony, when she arrived. When the elevator doors opened and she caught his attention, he was all smiles. Was he really that happy to leave work early?

  He met her halfway and took her bags from her hands to carry them out for her. His free hand rested at the small of her back as he escorted her to the waiting limo outside. She turned to glance back at Tony, feeling a little guilty that she didn’t get to say hello or goodbye, but met his smiling face and returned the smile.

  Nick’s driver held the door for them and took the bags from Nick so he could help her in. She wasn’t entirely sure where her things went, but trusted they were in the car somewhere.

  “A photographer had been waiting outside the building yesterday and paid off Gwen’s assistant for pics inside. Not sure who tipped off the photographer to begin with or why he would be waiting outside the building, but I have a few guesses,” Nick said of the leaked photos.

  “I bet you’ll only need one of those guesses.” Cori was certain it would all lead back to Winnie and Phillip upping the ante.

  “Gwen fired her assistant, on the spot, and insisted on handling your fittings personally from this day on.”

  “Wait, my fittings? Nick, why would I need fittings? We got what we wanted, a picture of me in a dress, and now the whole world has seen it. We’re done with the wedding dress debacle. It’s not like we’re buying it.”

  “Why not?” he asked, matter of fact.

  “Um, because the wedding isn’t real. We aren’t getting married — we don’t need the dress. And I can’t afford it.”

  “You don’t have to — called in a favor, remember? One day, when you do get married, you’ll have your dream dress.”

  “Nah, relationships don’t seem to be my thing. I doubt marriage is in my future,” she laughed.

  “You never know. Don’t write it off just because of one jackass. Your family stuff is unique, an isolated incidence. You can’t attach that to what Phillip did and declare all men assholes and the institution of marriage just as dastardly.”

  His words struck a bit of a nerve. She knew he was right, but had no desire to dig into that mess. Not today, maybe not ever. And not with him.

  “Where are we going anyway?” she asked, changing the subject, not so subtly.

  “I ordered in. We are going to my place so we’ll have a little privacy and you can change,” he said.

  “Um…you know I didn’t mean a literal nooner, right? I mean, I like you, but I’m not that kind of girl,” she half teased.

  He knew she wasn’t that kind of girl, which was part of the draw. “I promise it’s strictly with chivalrous and gentlemanly intentions that I take you to my home.”

  And she was sure it was just as he said, because more and more, he was proving himself to be one of the good guys.

  CHAPTER 11

  Nick’s home was actually a penthouse in the elite Waterfront District of the city where most of the upper-crust lived. It wreaked of money with stunning city views and far more space than a family needed, much less a single person. That was saying a lot, in Portland, where most families crammed into apartments the size of a coat closet — or just moved outside the city to suburbia.

  Eve, Nick’s assistant, was there when they arrived, overseeing the meal being prepared by the caterer Nick hired to cook for them. The overwhelming aroma teased something yeasty and Italian, like really good pizza. With a quick nod to Nick and Cori, Eve excused herself, along with the cook, leaving them to their meal, which was set up on the dining table in front of the large, floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the city.

  “Is that really…pizza?” she asked.

  “Yes. You said you loved pizza, so I thought it was a safe choice.” He smiled.

  “You know we could have grabbed one anywhere. You didn’t have to hire a fancy…chef.” Cori was starting to see that although Nick seemed like a down to earth, regular guy, unfazed by money, he did have a few spoiled tendencies.

  “Of course we could have, but Gianni does it all from scratch. He also hand tosses the dough and makes a mean antipasto salad with breadsticks.” Nick waggled his eyebrows and rubbed his hands together. The only thing missing from his excitement over their meal was drool.

  “Okay. If you say so,” she laughed, taking a seat and really seeing the meal for the first time. She took her first bite, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. “Oh my. I think I get it. Oh my God, this is amazing.”

  They ate over light conversation, enjoying their meal. It was easy between the two of them, like there was a long history between the couple, even though there wasn’t.

  He was impressed by how real she was and that she didn’t want a single thing out of him aside from his company. When he did pull out all the stops, she wasn’t impressed and was even a bit uncomfortable.

  He impressed her for similar reasons. Though he had more money than God and could afford to do and be anything he wanted, he was still a pretty grounded guy. Where Phillip lived off the pomp and circumstance, Nick could do without and preferred quite the opposite. He was eating pizza. Cori couldn’t remember a time when Phillip had ever had a slice of pizza.

  Quick to clean up and store the food in the containers Gianni left behind, they moved on to why Nick really brought her to his home and why they needed privacy to discuss it. He wasn’t sure how she would react.

  They moved to the living room, a glass of wine in hand each, when Nick cut to the chase. “I want you to move in with me.”

  Choking on her sip of wine, Cori couldn’t believe what she had heard. Nick quickly placed her glass on the coffee table in front of them and began to pat her back. “Are you okay? Shit! I didn’t mean to choke you!”

  “Come again?” she asked, voice cracking. “I might have heard you wrong.”

  He sat back, an ankle tossed over the opposite one, and watched her expression. “I think you heard me right, given the reaction. I asked you to move in with me.”

  When she started to stand and look around for her purse, he held her hands in his and guided her back to the couch. “Hear me out. Just give me that, okay? Hear what I have to say.”

  “You have like five minutes, Blackthorne.” Arms crossed, she backed into the corner of the couch and listened to what he had to say.

  “We’ve been trying to get to know each other, right?”

  “I think we’re doing a pretty good job at that, yes.”

  He nodded, then added, “But we don’t know enough. Dates a few nights a week are…nice. But we aren’t really getting to know each other’s habits. Know what I mean?”

  “Sort of. Carry on.”

  Thrilled he had her attention, he did as she asked. “If we live together, strictly platonic, it would give us more down time together. We wouldn’t be cramming in lunch meetings to get our stories straight. It would seem more…organic, real, natural.”

  “You’re really good at this. Like really good at this,” she teased, feeling a little better about his proposal. Though a bit unconventional, he was on to something.

  “The headlines today made me think of it. The world now knows, so how do we react?”

  “By moving in together — validates the rumors, and we look legitimate. Plus, we get more time together, are seen more together. Hate to say it, but it’s a good plan, Blackthorne.”

  She looked around his penthouse apartment, taking in all the lovely things, views, and space. It was hard to picture herself living there. It just wasn’t her, or anything she thought she would ever have to call home, even if for just a little while. She’d started something big and let it get out of control, and this was where it left her.

  She had so much on the line. It wasn’t just about saving face with Winnie and Phillip, but also her reputation in the business commu
nity. She was becoming a total fraud, and that could destroy her career before it even started. It didn’t matter that Nick knew her, the real her, because there were board members and clients to think of too.

  “Can I think about it?” she asked.

  “Of course. I assumed you would want to anyway. It would only be until the island trip. Whatever happens after that…happens.”

  “Question. Why…are you doing this for me?” she asked.

  With a shrug, he replied, “Why not? You’re not like other women, Cori. You don’t care about my money or what’s in it for you like other women do. You’re just…you, and you don’t try to impress me. You aren’t afraid to tell me what you really think, you’re honest, and expensive things don’t impress you. Plus, I enjoy your company. You’re fun.”

  “I don’t impress you?” she asked quietly.

  “Quite the opposite,” he said, moving closer to her. “I find you intriguing, genuine, and the only woman in this town who didn’t want my diamonds and connections. It’s refreshing. I can be…me when I’m with you.”

  “Wow. Okay, I—”

  “And you’re beautiful. Stunningly so. And kind. Even when you don’t have to be.”

  “But if I accept your offer, doesn’t that make me like other women?”

  “You could never be…”

  Locked in each other’s stare, words escaped them both. Nick finally broke the silence. “There’s a Gala next week. It’s a fundraiser hosted by McCain Industries. Beck McCain is an old friend, he and his wife have a foundation I support. I would love for you to join me.”

  “As your colleague…or guest?” she asked, putting him on the spot. She sensed a change in their relationship, but she couldn’t tell what it meant or who was responsible. Were they just more comfortable with each other, or were they crossing the line from partners in crime to something more?

  “Can it be as both?” he asked sincerely.

  Pleased with his answer, she rewarded him with a smile. There was part of that change. Her attendance wasn’t just about the company. Why that pleased her was ominous to her, but she didn’t need to reconcile that at the moment.

 

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