Imperfect Love: Liar (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Stephanie St. Klaire

  The couple pulled up right behind Winnie and Phillip, who were just arriving. When Nick stepped out of the car, he offered his hand to help Cori out as they laughed about something silly, almost forgetting where they were or who they were meeting. Pinched smiles greeted them as Nick grabbed Cori’s hand and planted a kiss on her lips before he led her in their direction, each still laughing.

  “Well, if it isn’t the super happy couple,” Winnie greeted, her pitchy tone already hitting that nerve of Cori’s that it often did.

  “And the almost newlyweds. Yay,” Cori fired back with plenty of fake enthusiasm.

  “So glad you two could make it. It isn’t every day that you can get in for a tasting at such a highly sought-after bakery. We’ve had this scheduled for nearly two years.”

  “Huh. Really? I got us in just the other day,” Nick mentioned with surprise. “Not for a tasting. We don’t need one. We eat Bob’s cakes all of the time.”

  “Bob? Who is Bob?” Winnie’s tone was as sour as her expression.

  “Bob,” Nick said with confidence, “The owner, Bob? Surely, you know him? Anyway, we were golfing the other day…”

  “Golf? You were golfing with…the owner,” Winnie interrupted, perhaps regretting the invite now.

  “Sure. We go way back, golf all the time. Anyway, he said to let him know the date, and he’d make our cake personally,” Nick smiled.

  “Yeah,” Cori said, hearing this for the first time herself. “Bob is…great.”

  “He is, isn’t he?” Nick squeezed Cori’s hand in a silent apology.

  “Hmmm, sounds like it,” Winnie spat. “Should we go in? Some of us do need to try the cake.”

  The cake coordinator brought platter after platter of different samples of cake, fillings, and frostings. Every combination imaginable was presented, and Winnie and Phillip couldn’t agree on a single one.

  The coordinator suggested they each pick their favorite and do half of the cake in each, to which Winnie was appalled, given Phillips favorite flavor combination. Her second suggestion was to pick one flavor combination, and add a cupcake buffet with several different combinations for guests to choose from – cupcakes offended Winnie.

  Meanwhile, Nick and Cori were enjoying the samples and picked their fake wedding cake flavors in the first round of samples, agreeing on the combinations without even trying to convince each other of anything. Winnie also found that offensive. Nick and Cori found Winnie’s offense – offensive – but continued to play the part. It came easy to them, too easy.

  When the coordinator ventured back to the kitchen to pull together more samples and combinations, attempting to find something that would please their fussy pallets, Winnie went on about how they were not able to book New York’s most prestigious venue, Le Salle De Bal – which translates to The Ballroom. Like everything else she wanted, it was booked several years out, and no amount of money, or Wednesday night wedding compromise, would change that.

  It was a stunningly restored building with old-world charm that consisted of tall columns and chandeliers in every room. There were gold statues and retrofitted dancing fountains throughout. It was once a museum that lost its funding, and now, the location for every charity fundraiser, wedding, expensive art tour, or special event to New York’s richest.

  When Nick came back inside from making a business call, practically skipping, it was Phillip’s turn to be a dick. “What has you giggling, Blackthorne? Jesus, the only thing missing is piggy tales and a lollipop.”

  “I have great news, Cori,” Nick said, ready to stick it to Winnie and knock the wind from Phillip’s cocky sail. He hadn’t taken a business call really; he placed a call to a friend after Winnie politely insulted Cori’s lack of culture when she mentioned she had only heard of Le Salle De Bal but had not been there. She didn’t think Nick was listening, but he was. It was Phillip he was ignoring. That friend happened to own Le Salle De Bal.

  “Oh, what’s that?” Picking up on his enthusiasm, she was eager to see what he was up to now. They were getting too good at reading each other.

  “Your dream wedding, sweetheart. You’re getting it. Le Salle De Bal. It’s ours if you want it.”

  “Le Salle De Bal? My dream…wedding? How did you…” she couldn’t find the words. How the hell did he keep doing this?

  “I know the owner, and…”

  Cori laughed, “Of course, you do. That’s fantastic. That just leaves…flowers.”

  “Branch and Magnolia got back to me – I can’t believe I forgot to tell you. They want to know what color peonies you would like.”

  Winnie’s jaw dropped. “You booked Branch and Magnolia? Are you serious? How on earth…and Le Salle De Bal?”

  “Just calling in favors. It really goes a long way when you help others out and do well for your community. Clean business – it pays off. Always have a favor to call on,” he said with a wink for Winnie. It was his own way undercutting her after the jab she took at Cori. It was a well-known fact that both the Chesterfields and Chancellors were dirty backstabbers in the business community. They bulldozed their way to their fortunes, and it left them all alone on their tiny little islands. Nobody wanted to work with them unless they absolutely had to – they really only had each other.

  “Wow. Looks like Cori is getting absolutely everything she wants – Manhattan’s princess. I heard about Gwendolyn booking the dress too; that’s…amazing, considering she doesn’t do custom work anymore.”

  “Oh, she doesn’t,” Cori chimed, “She is an old friend of Nick’s family – another one of those favors. What did she say, honey? I insist on doing little Nickie’s wedding so I can die a happy Godmother. She’s great.”

  “Godmother, really? How wonderful for you,” Winnie sneered. “Must be nice to have all of those connections at your disposal, Cori. It’s like a fairytale – poor, orphan farm girl marries a rich big-city prince. You’re just a modern-day Cinderella, aren’t you? All that’s missing is your glass slippers!”

  When Phillip chuckled at Winnie’s insult, it fueled her fury and the claws came out. “I’m surprised you still work – I mean, surely you have his credit card in your wallet by now, given what you’re wearing – go you.”

  Winnie took a sip of her drink like she’d tossed a compliment that deserved a big fat thank you. Her posture straightened, and smarmy grin tightened in challenge, daring Cori and Nick to fire back. Just when Nick went in for the jugular, Cori stopped him.

  “Wow, look at the time,” she said, looking at her new expensive watch. “We have to go.”

  “We do?” he questioned, standing alongside her.

  “Yes…pillow shopping, remember?” she asked of Nick before turning her attention back to Winnie and Phillip. “His place is such a bachelor pad – mancave really – that’s what they call it.”

  “Right,” Nick nodded, “pillows…for the mancave.”

  Wrapping her arms around Nicks waist and looking up into his steely blue eyes, she said in the dreamiest annoying voice she could muster, “We’re moving in together.”

  Nicks eyes brightened and his excitement plastered across his face when he realized what she was saying. “We are. That’s right.”

  “Yep,” she said, turning back to the jaw dropped couple still unable to pick a cake flavor, “Tonight. Just need some…pillows. Farm girl to Manhattan Penthouse; I mean, is this my life? I have to pinch myself these days.”

  Now to really lay it on, Nick tossed in the final coat of sickening sweet love story, “No, it’s our life, sweetheart.”

  His kiss wasn’t intended to be so sultry, but it was, and it was perfect. So much so, Cori couldn’t feel her legs. “Let’s go, my prince.”

  Twirling her around him, in the direction of the door, he replied, “After you, Cinderella.”

  Both fell into the waiting limo, laughing. “Did we really just do that? We’re acting like children!” Cori laughed.

  “Welcome to New York’s elite brat pack. That’s how they
all act – one up each other, then toss a friendly insult.”

  “I’m really sorry I sprung that on you like that. She is just so…”

  “Mean, evil, calculated, conniving…”

  “And then some.”

  Dropping to a more serious tone, he asked, “Are you really moving in?”

  “I sort of have to after that, don’t you think? I can have James bring a bag. He’ll know what to bring; he’s James…and of course Bronco. I’m going to be watching her,” she laughed.

  “Let’s go get pillows, and dinner and go home!” Nick was going to need a shower after that dirty exchange with Winnie and Phillip – more so, though, at the thought of having Cori in his home, sleeping in his bed.

  Chapter 13

  A mini home décor shopping spree and take out dinner later, and they were back at the penthouse, relaxing and settling in. Cori had only been kidding about pillows and something pink, but Nick insisted so she would feel comfortable there and threatened to charge Eve with the task if she wasn’t willing. She begrudgingly gave in.

  Getting acquainted on a whole new level, as roommates, they enjoyed their time and talked about everything from what to eat for breakfast and sharing bathroom time to get ready for the day. The one thing they hadn’t discussed was sleeping arrangements. It was clearly only a one-bedroom apartment, despite the space, and that also meant, one bed.

  “So, I will take the couch.” Nick offered.

  “The couch?”

  “Sleeping. Unless you want to share a bed, I will take the couch,” he clarified with an awkward chuckle.

  “Nick, no. I can’t let you do that. This is your place – I’m just…visiting. I’ll take the couch. It’ll be fine.”

  “Exactly,” he confirmed, “You are a guest and a lady. You get the bed.”

  “But it’s your apartment and your bed. I can’t.”

  “It’s our apartment, and our…well, your, bed, too. At least for now. Please take the bed.”

  “As comfortable as this couch is to sit on, I can’t imagine it being as comfortable to sleep all night on – you won’t even fit on it – you’re too tall. I think we are having our first argument,” she teased, trying to make light of the situation.

  “Hold that thought. Actually, meet me in the bedroom. We are not having an argument.” Nick turned on his heels and headed toward the bedroom, himself, but stopped just shy, turning into the laundry room.

  She couldn’t tell what he was doing in there when she passed the doorway, headed to the bedroom, but heard clanking and shuffling, followed by an “ah ha”.

  Joining her in his room where she was sitting at the edge of his bed, he held up an unopened box and said, “Problem solved. I’ll sleep on this.”

  “A box?” she joked.

  “It’s an air mattress. I was going to go camping once but ended up at the Ritz and never used it. I’ll just blow it up on the floor and slide it under the bed in the mornings.”

  He did just that, quick to unroll the blue, flat, plastic mat and plug in the electric air pump. Within a couple of minutes, he had his own makeshift bed and the solution – though not the one he wanted – was sleeping next to her bed when he would rather sleep in her bed. He promised chivalrous and gentlemanly, so this was his compromise.

  They took turns in the bathroom, each getting ready for their first night as a fake engaged couple living together. Ladies first, Nick waited his turn in the bathroom before turning in for the night. When he returned to the room, he paused in the doorway at the sight of her, sitting in the middle of his bed. He’d give anything to be one of the two dogs lying next to her – hell, he’d even be the small one with a pussy name. He would have to settle for lying next to her…on the floor.

  Closing the gap between them, he stood at the edge of the bed, each taking the other in. “So, do we hug, or…”

  She laughed, “I think we do whatever we want to do. Nobody sees this part – except Bronco and Bunny – but they won’t tell.”

  With him still standing there, awkwardly staring at her, she broke the ice and scooted to the edge of the bed, raising to her knees. She leaned in, as did he on her cue, and raised her hand, throwing him for a loop. “High-five. Put’er there, Blackthorne.”

  A boisterous laugh erupted, and he met her high-five before laying down on his new air mattress – on the floor – where he couldn’t see, hear, or feel her.

  It was quiet for a few moments, and they both found themselves lost in thought. Cori was self-shaming, mortified with her choice to high-five a super-hot guy, standing before her, half dressed in only low slinging sweats, broad shoulders and abs for days proudly displayed. He was already uncomfortable, and it had nothing to do with the mattress and everything to do with a hot little brunette, sleeping in his bed with nothing but a thin white cotton nightgown that was a little snugger, than she probably realized, across the chest.

  ***

  Nick was the first to wake the next morning, and he was as uncomfortable then as he was when he went to sleep – he was hard as a fucking rock. What was worse – both dogs had left her in the big comfortable bed, and crowded in with him on the much smaller mattress, creating an unnatural tilt to the mattress. He felt like a snob for a moment because he missed his big expensive, comfortable bed.

  Finding his way to the bathroom without embarrassing the hell out of himself might make for a tricky feat. Especially since he didn’t know if she was still asleep or if he would run into her, or his goods rather, in the hallway. It took some cajoling to get the dogs to quietly move just enough so that he could carefully and slowly sit up and peek over the edge of the bed to see if the coast was clear or not.

  Still snuggled up, hugging his pillow, she was sound asleep and the sweetest thing he had ever woken up to. Messy bed head, smeared left over make up, and a little drool – she was still the prettiest, sweetest thing he’d ever seen. There was something special about her, and it was becoming more and more obvious as he was becoming more and more smitten.

  With a plan to make a quick dash to the bathroom, he darted as fast and quiet as he could so as not to wake her. He needed a minute to calm his…mood with a cold shower. His morning run would be pretty painful otherwise, and the obscenity he carried front and center might get him banned from the park.

  Slightly disoriented, she woke to the smell of woodsy man scent and eggs. Why that turned her on and made her stomach growl was beyond her. It was new.

  Fully awake at the realization that she was not in her own apartment, the previous day and night came flooding back. With a glance at the empty floor where the blue air mattress and sexy man once lay, she smiled, remembering it wasn’t so empty last night and that the woodsy smell surrounding her was likely from him.

  Refreshed from one of the best night’s sleep in one of the most comfortable beds she’d ever been in, she was reminded of his sweet sacrifice. He wanted her in his bed, and he would take the floor – a gentleman, who made her libido do flips when she thought of him sleeping in this bed every night before her.

  He was sweet and kind, thoughtful to a fault. All things she wasn’t used to finding in men, or New York in general. He made her smile with a mere thought, and she appreciated his die-hard desire to defend her honor in a childish ruse that should have ended the moment it started. He was so invested, though, and she didn’t understand why. She did appreciate it.

  The smell of breakfast wafted through the air, reminding her that he was here and cooking, which sent her libido into another flip. Running her hands through her tangled hair, she decided a quick shower and more presentable clothes were in order so it felt more natural and less like an odd, we didn’t even have sex I just slept in your bed, walk of shame.

  While digging through her suitcase to find something to wear, she decided to unpack while she was at it. She was here for the better part of a month and didn’t feel it sensible to live out of a suitcase for so long. When she went into the large walk-in closet, however, she was shocke
d to find women’s clothing. A lot of it.

  She looked to her left to see Nick’s things, then back to her right at all of the lovely, expensive, items. Clothes, shoes, accessories…a full wardrobe. Anger flared, coursing through her. She was being played. Did he think she wouldn’t notice – for an entire month – that another woman lived here? A wife? Girlfriend? Mistress? It didn’t matter; she wasn’t a homewrecker or the other woman in anyone’s relationship.

  She tossed her things back in her bag in a heap, threw on the first thing she found that mostly matched, grabbed her purse, and pulled her suitcase behind her. She parked the suitcase at the end of the hall that led from the living room to the foyer and stood with her hands on her hips, staring through the open living room, straight into the kitchen where Nick stood, making breakfast.

  He looked up, sensing her presence. His smile quickly fell. “Where are you going? What’s wrong?”

  “I won’t be the other woman, Nick. Err, fake other woman. It’s not right,” she said, flailing her arms in frustration. “Is this all just a joke to you? Is Phillip in on it? He is, isn’t he? So, you’re married? Live in girlfriend?”

  She finally paused, giving him a chance to speak. “What are you talking about? There’s no one else, other than Bunny, but he’s new here.”

  Cori didn’t find any humor in his half assed explanation. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because I genuinely like you – a lot. We talked about this, Cori.” He was absolutely confused, had no idea where she was coming from.

  She froze; he liked her. He said he genuinely liked her, and her heart did the flip this time. Quick to remind herself that she didn’t care, she went right back to angry. “Don’t distract me with your…handsome looks and…charming ways! Fool me once…”