Telling Lies Online
Miranda MacLeod
Contents
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Coming Spring 2016
Telling Lies Online
By Miranda MacLeod
Copyright © 2016 Miranda MacLeod
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
Find out more:
https://about.me/mirandamacleod
Contact the author:
[email protected]
1
Blinking with urgency, the unfamiliar message glowed red against the black background of the computer screen. Jamie’s brow furrowed in confusion. She’d only been gone a few minutes and the Tech Cupid chat window had been active when she left.
Maintenance Mode.
What did that mean? Her fingers raked through her cropped blond tresses, trying to work out what had caused it.
“Paul?”
The door to the kitchen swung open, revealing a tall man with a shining bald head. “Hey, Jay. You change your mind and want me to fix you a plate?” he asked.
“Are you kidding? I don’t know how you can eat this late at night. I just wondered if you did something with the router.”
“Uh uh, why? Is the Wi-Fi still not working?”
“It was fine until a minute ago. Now something’s not right.” She smacked the side of her laptop repeatedly but the message remained unchanged.
“I see percussive maintenance isn’t working,” Paul said. His ivory teeth sparkled in a goofy grin. “Have you tried the old gold standard, turning it off and then on again?”
Jamie glared at him like she would an annoying little brother. Though the contrast of his ebony skin alongside her pale Nordic features made it pretty unlikely that they were actually related, Paul was the closest thing to a sibling she'd ever had. But at the moment, his lack of technological prowess was not inspiring feelings of brotherly love. Rolling her eyes, Jamie shut down her browser, then restarted it. The Tech Cupid chat window popped back onto the screen, good as new.
“Oh. Never mind.” She felt her cheeks burn as Paul’s teasing laughter echoed from the kitchen.
Unfortunately, the gray dot next to PortlandProf’s avatar indicated she was currently offline. Jamie’s body had been tingling in anticipation of continuing their chat, but now she slumped in disappointment. She glanced at the clock. It was past midnight, which meant she’d probably gone to bed. Jamie knew she should do the same, but was too excited to sleep.
She stole a final glance at PortlandProf's profile picture, lingering one last moment before clicking her mouse to close the chat window. A faint smile teased her lips as it disappeared. At barely an inch square, there was still something about the woman's candid expression in her icon that Jamie found utterly captivating, like she had been captured in the middle of a heartfelt laugh.
I'll bet she has a great laugh. She certainly had a great sense of humor. Jamie couldn't remember ever laughing as much as she had since she started corresponding with PortlandProf.
Or rather, Claire. Claire. That was her name, Claire.
They'd exchanged their real names tonight. Just first names, of course, at least for now. You couldn't be too careful about how much personal information you shared on an Internet dating site. But instinct told Jamie that she might have finally found the one. She wanted to pinch herself! Was it really possible that such a charming, beautiful woman lived only an hour away, and was actually as interested in Jamie as Jamie was in her?
Given her disastrous track record in dating, it seemed like a miracle.
The clinking of silverware against porcelain broke Jamie's reverie. She looked up as Paul entered the dining room, balancing a heaping plate of leftovers in one hand. Jamie shuffled a pile of papers aside so Paul could sit beside her at the long mahogany table.
“Come, join me,” she said. “The dining room table makes a great desk, but I hear you can eat on them, too.”
“So, I take it the Wi-Fi upstairs is still not working?”
Jamie shook her head. “Not a single bar.”
“Sorry. You know me and technology.” He gave a self-deprecating shrug. “I'll get someone to look at it.”
“No rush. I really don't mind.” Despite their chat being cut short, Jamie's spirits were soaring so high after her evening with Claire that she doubted anything could bother her right now.
“You're sure looking pleased with the world,” Paul said, nudging Jamie in the ribs with his elbow. “Did someone send you some free porn or something?”
“Ewww,” she replied, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Seriously, Paulie, why is porn the only thing a guy can think of that might make someone look happy?”
“Uhhh.” He gave his head an exaggerated scratch, clearly at a loss for a better answer. “Okay, so, if it's not that, what else could it possibly be?”
“Well, if you must know, I took your advice.”
“Which advice?” Paul's forehead wrinkled. “You bought those leather pants? You finally signed up for salsa lessons?”
Jamie raised her eyebrows. “Dream on, my friend.”
“Wait!” Paul clapped his hands. “Oh my God. You decided to host one of those naughty toy parties for my birthday and you're inviting the hot diving instructor from the Marine Institute as my present!”
Jamie rolled her eyes. While her position as one of the Institute’s principle climate researchers didn't leave a lot of time for Caribbean vacations, one of the perks of the job was that employees could sign up for the occasional demonstration dive in their massive ocean tank. The instructor for her dive had been a particularly good looking man whom Paul was convinced gave off some sort of strong “gaydar” vibe. He'd been trying to get the guy's number for months.
“Paul, do you want to know why I don't take your advice more often than I do? Because nine times out of ten, you give really bad advice.”
“Ah, come on. Everyone needs at least one pair of leather pants!”
“See, that's what I'm talking about. But I guess signing up for Tech Cupid must have been lucky number ten, because I'm only a few days into my free trial and I already met someone who’s perfect for me.”
“Oh yeah? Congratulations, Girly!” Paul paused to swallow a bite of his dinner. “So, when you moving out?”
Jamie cringed. “Shut up, Paul,” she said, smacking the back of his bald head playfully. “You can’t get rid of me that easily this time.”
“Yeah, well, I guess I just remember how it went last time you met the one. Was it even a whole month before you moved in with Naomi? And then, let me think,” he continued, tapping his finger against the patch of hair on his chin, “it was your eight week anniversary when it all fell apart, right?”
> Jamie pursed her lips, her eyes narrowing. She was a practical person by nature but she had an impulsive side when it came to love. So many times she'd been convinced a new relationship was the real deal. So many times she'd been proven wrong. Sometimes even before the unpacking was complete. If he planned to run through the complete history of her relationship failures, she might need to go heat up a plate of food for herself, just to keep up her strength.
“Eight weeks,” he repeated, shaking his head slowly and clicking his tongue as if to scold her. “And then who got stuck living with your sorry ass again? Oh, right. That was me.”
“Come on. You've loved every minute of it. You jump for joy every single time I move back in with you. But fine,” Jamie said with a shrug. “Point taken. Maybe I've rushed things a little too much in the past.”
Jamie glowered as Paul broke into a mock coughing fit in response.
“Ha, ha,” she said when he was done. “I've learned my lesson.”
“Uh huh. Repeatedly,” Paul responded, clearly unconvinced. “And this time will be different why?”
“For one thing, I don't have a choice. I’ve got to take it slower this time. Claire lives in Maine.”
“Maine? Is she a lumberjack or something?” He thought for a moment. “Well, that is different. Usually you're the one rocking the flannel and hiking boots, not your dates.”
Jamie glanced self-consciously at the threadbare flannel shirt she had tossed on after work. Even in the summer heat, she rarely went without it, like a security blanket. “No, she's not a lumberjack. She's an English professor at some liberal arts college in Portland. So, it's not like either one of us can just pick up and move.” Jamie paused, a dreamy expression softening her emerald eyes. “Not right away, anyway.”
“Uh huh,” Paul responded. “Somehow I know you'll find a way.” He gestured toward her laptop. “You might as well show me a picture of this Claire person so I'll recognize her when I see her.”
Jamie glared at her friend. “What, the moving van she'll show up in won't be enough of a clue for you,” she quipped. She pulled up Claire's profile page and slid the laptop toward him.
Anyone who knew Jamie at all would have to admit that everything about the woman in the profile, from her curly brunette ponytail and golden brown eyes to her love of the ocean and obsession with all things British, screamed that she was the one. It was like someone had just delivered a big bag of Jamie-catnip. Paul continued to scroll, his brow furrowing as he approached the bottom of the screen.
“Hey, Jay, have you seen this?” he asked. “There's an urgent notice here from the Tech Cupid IT department.”
“What? No, I didn’t see it,” Jamie replied. “What does it say?”
“Uh, it says: Dear Valued Customer, yada yada… problems with demographic information on some new profiles… now resolved… please refresh your account for updated information.”
“Huh. Maybe that’s what that maintenance screen was about.”
“Should I go ahead and do the update?’
Jamie shrugged. “Sure.”
Paul hit the refresh button and then clicked back to Claire's profile. His eyebrows shot up in alarm. “Uh, Jay? There's maybe a, um… did you say Claire lives in Portland, Maine?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Because I refreshed the page like the message said to, and now her profile says Portland, Oregon.”
“What?” Jamie shrieked, dragging her fingers through her hair. “No, that can't be right, Paul. Oregon is on the other side of the country! You did something wrong, obviously. You said it yourself, you suck at technology.”
“Hey, I just did what the instructions said!”
“Paul, you don't understand. I really like this girl. All those emails and chats we've exchanged…” Jamie's voice trailed off in a tone of desperation. “Just fix it, okay?”
“Yeah, okay. I'll fix it. Just calm down, Girly.” Paul clicked, typed, and clicked some more.
Recalling a detail from an earlier chat session, Jamie released her tortured hair from its death grip and smiled. “Paul, it has to be another glitch. There's no way she's in Oregon.”
“Why's that?” he asked.
“In our very first chat, she asked me where I lived. I said north of Salem, and then she said she was just outside Portland, and we figured out it would take about an hour's drive to meet up. You know,” she added sheepishly, “if we ever decided to meet. Not like we're rushing into it.”
Jamie paused in frustration as Paul failed to respond. His face appeared troubled. “Paul, just pull up the first couple of messages, okay? You'll see what I mean. She's in Maine. No doubt about it.”
“Jamie Lee,” he said softly.
Jamie froze. No one called her that any more. She'd been just plain Jamie, or Jay to her friends, for as long as she could remember. Even her own mother hadn't called her Jamie Lee since around the time she'd stopped scolding her for forgetting to bring her lunch box home from school. Whatever Paul had discovered, it couldn't be good.
“Jamie Lee,” he repeated when he had her full attention. “First of all, there's a Salem in Oregon, too. Or have you forgotten the state capital song we had to sing in fifth grade?” He started to hum.
“Stop!” she pleaded. “You don't have to sing me the song. I'll take your word for it. But, so what?”
“So, the Portland and Salem in Oregon are about the same distance apart as the Portland and Salem here. I just checked the map. So that chat you had doesn't prove anything.”
“Oh, come on,” Jamie whined in frustration. “What kind of bullshit is that, anyway?”
Why would someone go putting Portlands and Salems right next to each other all over the country? Did they run out of names? Jamie wasn’t convinced that a supreme being existed in the universe, but if it did, sometimes it seemed like it was just looking for a way to smack her down. Well, Jamie wasn't going to let the universe win. Not this time.
“That's okay,” she added, her voice filled with determination. “I'll just fly to Oregon. It's not like you have to take a covered wagon across the country and risk dying of dysentery any more.”
Paul sighed heavily. “Jay, that's not all. In fact, that's the good news. Here. I'd better just show you.”
Jamie felt a chilly lump form in her stomach. What could possibly be worse than finding out that the love of her life lived three thousand miles away? She leaned over Paul's shoulder, looking blankly at the screen.
“See, right here,” he said, his index finger tapping a line near the top of Claire's profile.
Jamie's heart sank as she stared at the words. She blinked rapidly, hoping that if she blinked enough times the words would change.
Woman seeking man.
No way. Claire had been the one to message her first, so she obviously wasn't looking for a man. Why did Tech Cupid now insist that she was? Why would Claire be seeking a man, unless…no, it couldn’t be…
“That can't be right, can it? I thought Tech Cupid was a gay dating site.”
Paul shrugged. “It's what they're known for, but strictly speaking, they offer everything.”
“Even so,” Jamie said, “she's the one who wanted to talk to me. Why would she do that if she's not at least interested in women?”
“Well,” Paul said, “what did you put for an answer on that line?”
Jamie groaned. “I think I left it blank. I thought they were joking. Still, she had to have noticed I'm a woman.”
“Maybe she thought you were a dude?” Paul winced as Jamie's open palm made contact with the back of his head. “No, seriously. The tech glitch could have left off your gender. Let me see your profile.” He chuckled. “Uh, yeah. She totally thought you were a dude!”
“That's ridiculous, Paulie. I know I'm not the world’s most feminine person, but I’m positive no one has ever mistaken me for a guy.”
He looked her up and down with a dubious frown. “Okay. I’ll take your word for it.”
Jamie
crossed her arms and stared at the floor, her cheeks burning. She might not always take the time to polish her appearance, but she liked to believe women generally found her attractive anyway. Hell, she could look downright hot when she tried, even at the ripe old age of thirty-four.
“Just look at this profile pic,” Paul said, pointing to the screen. “Observe that you are wearing some sort of khaki coveralls and a cowboy hat. A cowboy hat, Jay? Have you been reading those lesbian cowgirl romance novels again?”
Jamie shrugged, embarrassed. “Maybe.”
“Your face is completely hidden by that ten gallon abomination. Who knows what’s under there. A girl, a guy, a sheepdog…”
“Really? A sheepdog?” Jamie rolled her eyes. “It was the only picture I could find, okay?”
“For God's sake, Jay, I'm a professional photographer. If this is the best you can manage on your own, promise me you will never post another photo of yourself anywhere, ever, without consulting me first, ‘kay?”
“I'll admit that it's not a great picture,” Jamie said, her voice clipped. “But I don't see how that leads to me being a guy.”
Paul snorted. “Take a look at your description. Six feet tall, athletic build, and you told her your name was Jay.”
“So? That's all true.” She smiled, feeling especially proud of how lean and toned she managed to keep her body with bike riding and regular morning swims.
“I know it’s not your fault that you’re freakishly tall and have a boy's name, but that’s a pretty masculine description.” Paul glanced from the computer screen to his friend and then back again. “If they left out the part about you being a girl, hell, I might respond to your profile. If it weren't for that hideous hat.”
“Lay off the hat, Paulie. I like the hat.” Jamie tugged sharply at her hair, wincing as several follicles snapped under the assault. “Seriously, could Claire really think I’m a guy?”
Paul raised his eyebrows and remained silent.
“This is a disaster, Paulie. What am I going to do?”
Paul sighed. “Not much you can do. Maybe you could figure out a way around the Oregon thing, but the being attracted to men instead of women thing is kind of a deal breaker, don’t ya think?” He paused and looked Jamie squarely in the eyes. “You have to tell her the truth.”
Telling Lies Online Page 1
