It Started With a Lie

by Lisa Suzanne

  She huffs out a mirthless chuckle, but she doesn’t say anything as she shakes her head in apparent disgust.

  “And I was trying to save my brother some money.” I chance a glance in her direction, and her focus whips from the window toward me as she lets out a loud and startling laugh.

  “Ha! Right. Like my agreement to live with you was based in any sort of reality.”

  “Sort of has to be considering my friends are over all the time.” I’m bluffing, but I’ll get her on my side. “You signed an NDA that said you’d play along.”

  “Provided you’d treat me better.”

  “And I have. I’m offering you a place to stay free of charge. I’ll even let you borrow one of my cars to get you to and from the office if you don’t want to carpool.”

  “How incredibly gentlemanly of you,” she spits out, her voice laden with sarcasm.

  “Let’s just give it a try. It’s temporary, anyway. My house is big enough we don’t even have to interact.”

  “Weren’t you the one throwing a tantrum in Miami just a few days ago because you couldn’t seem to get away from me?”

  I lift a shoulder. “I’ve already told you, Viv. Things have changed.”

  “You’re not giving me a choice.”

  “There’s always a choice.” I decide it’s time to appeal to her good business sense. “But if you’re really trying to save both FDB and my brother money, you can easily see where this makes sense. The Westin doesn’t come cheap, nor do your meals when you’re eating out for three months straight.”

  “What will you tell Mark?” she asks.

  “I don’t have to tell him a goddamn thing.”

  She leans back on the headrest and turns her head to stare out the window. The lights of the Strip are bright in the darkness of night, the glow magical as it always is.

  “Take me back to the Westin,” she says softly as she releases a breath, and while I sort of knew it was coming, it doesn’t stop my heart from dropping anyway. “I need to get my things.”

  I don’t say anything at all as my heart lifts back up and a smile tips my lips.

  She tells me to wait in the car, and she disappears into the hotel for a good fifteen minutes. I scroll through email on my phone while I wait, and I find several replies to the proposals and emails I sent earlier today. Apparently weekends are fair game for business in this town.

  Three of the proposals I sent have already been signed, one has a few amendments, and I have two companies interested in learning more about what we do. All in all, it’s a good few minutes and I’m excited to share the news with Vivian.

  But then I realize these are the exact things that will keep her from me. Getting FDB out of the red and back on track is the goal, of course, but the faster that’s done, the quicker she’ll leave.

  And that’s not something I’m ready for just yet.

  So rather than share my excitement about the green light to move forward with some of these companies we worked together on over the past two days, I decide to keep my mouth shut for the time being.

  I put my phone down while I wait, and when I see her inside the lobby with two suitcases plus another large bag slung over her shoulder as she waits to be addressed by the clerk, I head inside to help.

  As soon as I get close, I notice the fresh and slightly more powerful scent of roses and I realize she freshened up.

  For me.

  “I’ll get your luggage to the car,” I say.

  “Thank you.”

  I nod and take both bags from her. She only had one in Miami, so she must’ve stored one here since she checked out and checked back in. I get both her bags into my trunk, and minutes later she’s strolling toward my car. I open the passenger door for her and she slides in, and then I shut it and walk around to my side.

  She fidgets as I get into the car, and before I start it up, she says, “I’ve been fighting with myself ever since I got out of your car.”

  “About what?” I turn to look at her rather than starting the car. It’s dark here, but her face is lit by the flashing sign across the street from us advertising some cheap late night buffet.

  “About what to do. I see where you’re coming from and I agree it’ll save money, but I just don’t think this is a good idea.”

  “Now see, that’s where you’re wrong. I’m convinced this is the best idea I’ve had in ages.”

  She allows a small chuckle, and while it chips away at the ice between us, it doesn’t break it. She lets out a long sigh. “I just think we want different things.”

  “I’m sure of that, but what’s life without a little excitement?”

  She purses her lips as she gazes thoughtfully at me, and then she nods. “Okay. Bring on the excitement then.”

  I laugh and start the car. When I chose my home, one of my top priorities was being close to the office, so it’s only a ten-minute drive from where we are. I punch in the code to my gated community and the heavy iron gates open. We wind through the streets, and I can tell she’s impressed when we pull into my driveway.

  But then I realize it’s not necessarily me she’s impressed with. I as much as told her my brother bought the place for me, and she’s well-informed of my current financial situation.

  “What’s your place in Los Angeles like?” I ask.

  She stares up the driveway at my house. “It’s modest compared to this. Three beds, three baths, a little over two thousand square feet. I love my backyard. It has a pool and it’s just the most relaxing thing ever. And I have a custom-built wine room in my garage.”

  “Are you a big wine drinker?” I ask.

  “Not huge, but I love a nice glass of pinot noir.”

  I shake my head. “Red wine drinkers,” I mutter.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” I pull into the garage. “Come on in.”

  We step through my laundry room first and then into the kitchen. I gauge her reaction as she glances around, but she’s hard to read.

  “This is actually exactly how I pictured your home.”

  “You pictured my home?” I ask, sort of surprised she admitted to thinking about me.

  She lifts a shoulder. “Sure. I love looking at houses.” She leans in a little like she’s about to reveal a secret. “I’m an HGTV junkie, especially when I’m in hotels. There’s always something interesting on.”

  I’m already learning new things about her and she’s only been in my house for ten seconds. “So what about this is how you pictured it?”

  “The dark woods. The navy blue. The extravagance. It’s all exactly your personality.”

  I narrow my eyes at her. “How?”

  She leans a hip against my counter. “This countertop. Is this quartz?” She glances at me, and I nod. She runs a fingertip over the surface. “Did you pick it out?”

  “With a designer’s help, but I personally approved every detail of my house.”

  “Navy quartz. I read somewhere dark blues cut through clutter. You tend to do that as well, especially at work.” She glances around. “You have lavish details, but only when you look closer.” She nods toward my kitchen cabinets. “Those are high-end, as is the reclaimed wood paneling on this wall.” She runs her fingertips over one of my favorite details of my home. “A darker wood is typically considered more luxurious, and from what I’ve seen, you enjoy life’s luxuries. Plus your countertops are completely barren, which speaks to your Type A personality.”

  I raise my brows. “Well you’ve certainly got me all figured out.”

  She shrugs. “Homes say a lot about people.”

  “What would your home say about you?”

  She lifts a shoulder. “Probably that I work too much. My plain white walls are barren. I don’t have much time for home decorating, and I’m always traveling anyway. That’s why I watch HGTV. I can decorate houses vicariously through others.”

  “Except for your wine room.”

  She nods. “Except for that.”

  “You
know what that tells me about you?”

  It’s her turn to narrow her eyes at me. “What?” she asks.

  “That you put a higher priority on alcohol than you like to admit.”

  She laughs and walks over to me just to mock slap me in the arm. I grab the spot of the offense dramatically.

  “Show me the rest of your place,” she says.

  I take her on the grand tour, and she nods knowingly with each new detail I present to her. She’s not at all shocked I have a room dedicated to my favorite sports team, and I’m reminded of the AceStar Gala when she distracted me from winning the signed Payton jersey.

  I don’t show her my bedroom, mostly because I don’t want to take her in there unless we’re planning to stay in there a while. Instead, I point down the hallway toward my room then lead her the opposite way toward my office and my guest rooms, ultimately ending up in the room where she’ll be staying.

  For now.

  Until I can convince her she should be staying with me.

  “Nicer than a hotel?” I ask as she takes a look around her room. Of course it’s nicer than a hotel. The thread count is higher and it’s a home. I set her suitcase next to the dresser.

  “With the exception of someone who will come deliver my food for me, I guess it’ll do.”

  I laugh. “Fox Estate will happily provide that amenity for you, but it comes with a cost.”

  “Fox Estate? I like it.”

  “I’ll leave you alone to settle in. If you need anything, I’ll be in my office.”

  My office happens to be the room directly next to the room where she’s staying. I didn’t plan that on purpose...except I totally did.

  I hear her voice through the wall as I sort through a few emails and reply to the ones I saw earlier in the car. She must be on the phone. It’s muffled, and I can’t make out what she’s saying, but just the hum of her voice reminds me she’s here, and somehow that provides a sense of comfort I didn’t expect.

  I lean back in my chair for a minute and listen to the sound of her talking, and I realize even though this plan might’ve been out of left field, somehow it’s working. She’s here, and now that I’ve got unlimited access to her, it won’t be long before she sees how great we could be together, too.

  chapter thirty-one

  By Monday morning, I’m, as my sister would say, a hot mess.

  I can’t stop thinking about her legs.

  I’m hornier than ever, and it has everything to do with the woman I invited to be my houseguest.

  What a stupid fucking plan.

  I didn’t think it through, and now I’m paying the price. Yesterday as I lounged in one of the recliners in my football room just off the kitchen with a business magazine, she walked by in a pair of short shorts. Her pink top was as modest as ever, showing no cleavage, but her legs seemed to go on for days.

  And she was barefoot. Fucking barefoot! I’m not a foot guy, but as my eyes were drawn to the bottom of those long stems of hers and the red nail polish adorning her toenails...well, maybe I became a foot guy in that moment.

  I pretended to be invested in my magazine, but I was really watching her every move as she helped herself to a glass of orange juice.

  Somehow even that became sexualized in my mind as I thought about all the sticky places I could trail orange juice along her body before I lapped it up with my tongue.

  Hence the issue today with my aching balls desperate for relief. I gave the big guy some self-love this morning in the shower, and while it relieved some of the immediate pain, it came back quickly and with a vengeance. This is the sort of ache that only a woman can alleviate, and somehow I just know the only woman who can really take care of my needs is sitting in the chair across from my desk at the office, tapping away at her laptop.

  She glances up at me and catches me staring. She gives me a polite smile and returns her attention to her computer. “What’s the deal with Crimson Cloud?” she asks out of nowhere.

  I’m snapped back to attention. “Crimson Cloud?” I ask stupidly.

  She nods. “Their numbers don’t add up. Eighteen months ago, they received analytics they paid for, but they’ve stopped paying their monthly service charge and you’re still providing the service.”

  “Who’s the CEO?” I ask.

  She clicks a few buttons. “Vince Ridley.”

  I clear my throat. “Right. Highest bidder on a year of free services at last year’s Vegas Business Con.”

  “Isn’t that the event you presented at on Friday?”

  I nod.

  “Then it’s been a year. Time’s up and Crimson needs to start paying up.”

  “You’re right. I had that on my calendar, but with last week’s presentation and surprise trip to Miami, it slipped through.”

  She shakes her head. “We can’t let things this big slip through. And you can’t give away a year’s worth of services for free. That’s tens of thousands of dollars.”

  I shrug. “It got our name out there.”

  “But the winner was someone who’s already a client. That makes no sense,” she says, and her passion is yet another turn on. “He was already paying for his analytics, and you gave him a free pass. You offer freebies to catch new clients, not to retain the ones you already have.”

  “You think we shouldn’t treat our current customers well?” I challenge.

  She shakes her head. “You’re missing the point. You treat them well, of course. But you never turn away a sure thing.”

  A sure thing.

  Interesting.

  I am a sure thing, yet she keeps turning me away. Rather than say that, though, I turn my attention back to some papers on my desk and say, “Let’s just agree to disagree.”

  “No,” she says, and her voice is so sharp my eyes whip toward hers in surprise. “I won’t agree to that. I’ve agreed to a lot of things I’m not comfortable with, but my job is to fix what you’ve messed up.”

  My brows raise at her outburst. I feel the sting of her insult, but it doesn’t matter. As much as I want to hate her, I just can’t. Every single thing she does seems to make me even more attracted to her—seems to make me want her even more.

  She forges ahead before I have the chance to defend myself. “And this is a definite screw-up, Brian.” She taps some keys then looks up at me. “Thirty-six thousand dollars. That’s what you lost. That’s what your prize was worth. Thirty-six thousand. That’s practically an entire new hire just from one company’s bills for a year.”

  She’s fired up, and her passion about my company just shows me what a great choice my brother made in her.

  That thought is even more confusing than my sudden feelings for her.

  My brother was right...and I’m admitting it?

  Something is definitely wrong here. Something’s in the water, or someone has drugged me. I’d never willingly admit to my brother being right about anything, and yet...

  I’m glad Viv is here.

  “You’re right,” I finally say. “And that’s why Mark hired you.”

  She looks shocked by my words, but she doesn’t get the chance to respond because Becker comes barging into my office.

  “What have I missed?” He glances at Vivian sitting at her desk in the corner of my office. “Aside from the fact that you somehow found a woman to date you and she moved into not just your home, but your office?”

  “Fuck off,” I say with a good-natured roll of my eyes.

  He chuckles and sits. “What’s the latest?”

  I glance through some notes on my desk I took specifically to fill him in. “I’ve written thirty-seven proposals in the last five weeks. Eight have signed and are in various stages of the contract, fourteen have indicated further interest, ten have declined, and I haven’t heard back from five.”

  “Thirty-seven?” he asks. He raises his brows and lets out a whistle between his teeth. “Good work.”

  “The Vegas Con event really boosted that number. It’s the single best event
each year for us.” I lean back in my chair.

  “Meaning in about two months, we’ll be rolling in the dough?”

  I grin at my best friend. “Exactly.”

  “Excellent. Anything else I need to know?”

  “We have a new hire starting today to bring the work we were outsourcing to Germany back here. She’ll need a team, so we’ll have to get back together in a few days once we determine her exact needs.” I see Viv’s sharp glare at me out the corner of my eye, but I choose to ignore it for now. She can yell at me when Beck leaves.

  “I’ll be sure to introduce myself,” he says. He stands. “I tried to keep up with email while I was out, but I’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

  “Good to have you back, man.”

  He stretches lazily. “I wish I could say it’s good to be back, but honestly, a month in Italy with my wife was pretty spectacular.”

  “Just go down to the Venetian for a few hours. It’ll be like you’re back there.”

  He lets out a loud laugh as he leaves, and Viv starts in on me as soon as he’s out of earshot. “You didn’t tell me those numbers,” she says.

  I shrug and sit forward in my chair, leaning my elbows on my desk. “I figured you knew since you have full access to everything.”

  “I only look at what I need to look at, and your email correspondence isn’t one of those things.” She looks a little offended, and it’s sexier than I need it to be when she has already hooked my interest. “Frankly, I don’t have the time to spy on you, and besides, stages of contracts don’t come through on financial reports until you’ve secured the deal and they’ve made payments.”

  I steeple my fingers in front of my mouth. “Fair enough. I’ve got eight contracts coming through in the next few weeks.”

  “Brian, that’s amazing.” She looks at me with some degree of admiration—something I’m not used to seeing from her. “That might be enough to reverse this entire mess.”

  I hope it is for the sake of my company, but as soon as the mess is fixed, Viv will leave. And I’m definitely not ready for that.

  * * *

  “I’ve got an excellent proposal for you, Mr. Porter,” I say. “I’m just confirming our meeting time tomorrow morning.”