Dirty Little Liars

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Dirty Little Liars Page 11

by Missy Lynn Ryan


  Juliette scooted the black dress to the side. “And then there were two,” she sighed. The sequined red halter dress and the cream-colored lace and chiffon, which she was pretty certain she wore at Margaret’s cousin’s wedding.

  Ugh. She definitely needed to try them on.

  She stepped into the red dress and slipped on her silver heels. While she was inspecting herself in the mirror there was a knock at her door.

  Great. Just great. She grabbed the hem of the gown so that she could move more freely and shuffled to the door. The sequins rustled against the fabric and she sounded like a muted maraca as she passed through the kitchen. She leaned against the door and snuck a glimpse through the peephole.

  Ty stood in her hallway like some kind of sexual genie. Whenever she had an inappropriate thought of him, he seemed to magically appear.

  Juliette opened the door.

  “Dare I ask what you’re doing here? Haven’t your little midnight visits caused enough problems already?”

  Ty wasn’t listening. His eyes were drinking her in from head to toe. He skimmed every covered and not-so-covered inch of her body. Her skin itched for his touch as she watched his face react. She should have taken a step backward, but she didn’t want to break the connection. Instead, she wanted to close the distance between them.

  She choked down the urge to touch him and pulled away. Ty took her movement as an invitation to come inside.

  “What are you doing?” Juliette asked.

  “I came to check in on you, see how things were going with Robertson.”

  “Oh,” she tried to keep her voice steady. “Everything’s fine. Why, did Courtney tell you something different?”

  “Actually, she said you were on the verge of making a breakthrough.”

  Juliette leaned against the arm of the couch and kicked off one of her heels. “I think Courtney is exaggerating. I’ve barely seen Robertson, let alone had a chance to get any intel on him. I might as well be bird-watching.”

  “It’s been a while since I’ve been on a nature trail, but I think you might be a bit overdressed for bird-watching. Where are you headed tonight?”

  “Art gallery, I think.” She kept her answer vague.

  “Really. By yourself?”

  Juliette kicked off her other shoe, making her three inches shorter. “What does it matter?”

  Ty shrugged as if he didn’t care, but she knew he did. He wouldn’t be asking her otherwise.

  “If you don’t tell me, I’ll just assume it’s a date.”

  “It’s not a date.”

  “Is he attractive?”

  “It’s not a date,” she snapped. “It’s the chief of staff for Robertson’s campaign.” She deliberately left out the part about him being pleasing on the eyes. Not as pleasing as her present company, but Ty was off-limits. So off-limits he might as well be living on the moon.

  Tyler frowned. “Jordan Christoff?”

  “Yes. Jordan Christoff.”

  “Is he picking you up or meeting you there?”

  “Ty.” Her voice had a less playful tone to it. He didn’t really have a right to ask any of these questions. They weren’t a couple. They were barely even friends. They fucked. Twice. That was it. Everything else was just business.

  If she weren’t working for Covington things might have been different. They could have been friends. Maybe even friends with benefits. Hot, sexy, dirty, can’t catch your breath because you’re drowning in orgasm, benefits.

  “I just want to make sure you’re safe.” Ty’s words interrupted her naughty tirade. “I don’t like the idea of some strange guy showing up at your door.”

  “And yet you keep doing that very thing.”

  He leaned on the counter, completely at home in her kitchen. “You know what I mean. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you, not after the last time.”

  Ty didn’t need to remind her of the mugging. She relived it every time she walked through an alley or an empty parking garage. She was a tough girl. Usually. But she continued to let down her guard around Tyler and it almost always ended with trouble.

  “Well, you don’t have to worry. Jordan is meeting me there. I’ll be totally safe.”

  “Why don’t I drive you?”

  She stared at him blankly. “Are you serious?”

  “Of course I am.”

  “You can’t drive me to an event. You can’t even be seen in public with me thanks to that damn photo going viral. And what if someone from the other campaign spots you? You’ll blow my cover and create an even bigger scandal than the one we are trying to contain.”

  “You sound like Winston.”

  “Yeah, well maybe you should listen to him every once in a while. He knows what he’s doing.”

  Ty reached out and took her hand. She started to jerk away but his fingers clasped down on hers and he held her in a tight grip. His lowered his head, his gaze lingering on the place where their fingers touched. She waited for him to speak, but he didn’t. Instead he slowly began to caress her. His thumb massaged the base her palm. Each stroke sent a new wave of tremors through her body. He pulled her up from the couch so that they were standing mere inches apart and she could feel the burning electricity between them.

  “Ty.”

  He shushed her with his free hand, a finger gently pressed to her lips. He locked his smoldering blue eyes on hers and she could no longer think straight.

  He bent down to kiss her and she let him. His lips pressed against hers and the simple touch gave way to something more ferocious. He pressed closer to her, his arms pulling the two of them together and she felt the bulge in his pants pressing against her abdomen. The sensation sent quivers through her body. Her world began to swirl. Juliette was so dizzy with lust she didn’t think she could remain standing.

  Her legs gave out and the two of them fell backward onto the couch. She barely noticed the sound of ripping fabric before his weight sank on top of her, gravity forcing them together. A hand traced up her bare thigh to cup her buttocks and she thrust her hips toward him, frustrated by the heavy jeans and sequined dress in her way.

  There was another tearing sound and this time it jerked Juliette back to reality.

  “Shit,” she cried and shoved Ty away.

  Ty rolled off the couch and crashed onto the floor. The coffee table screeched forward on the wood floor and a decorative vase fell to its side.

  Juliette flailed awkwardly as she tried to pull herself up without further tearing the dress.

  “Don’t worry, I’m all right.”

  Juliette ignored him. “I was going to wear this and now it’s ruined.”

  “I think it looks good,” he said, eyeing the slit in the side that rode up a few inches shy of her waist. “It’s very Jennifer Lopez.”

  “Yeah, well I am not Jennifer Lopez.” She stomped off to her bedroom and slammed the door behind her. Then twisted the lock for good measure.

  The gown wasn’t ruined, but it was beyond repair for the time being. Even if she could get away with the high slit on the side of the dress, there was a second horizontal tear just over her right ass cheek. Juliette pulled off the tattered remains of the red gown.

  There was a knock at the door. Then a rattle of the handle.

  “Go away,” she said.

  “I’m sorry about the dress. I’ll buy you a new one.”

  Juliette balled up the dress in front of her, jerked the door open.

  “No you will not. You will go home, Tyler. Now.”

  “Even pissed, you look hot.”

  “OMG. You are never going to get elected if you keep trying to screw every skirt that catches your eye.”

  She slammed the door a second time.

  “You’re not just another skirt,” she heard Ty call from the other side. She ignored him.

  “Don’t dismiss what we are to each other. I wouldn’t throw away a political career for just any woman.”

  Ugh. That was just it. He w
asn’t throwing away his political career. He was marrying the daughter of an incredibly powerful governor—a man who was likely to run for President in the next four years.

  “Go home, Tyler,” she called from the other side of the door. She listened, frozen until she heard the front door close. Then she shot across the bedroom, peeking out the window until she saw him walking down the sidewalk toward his Mercedes. Even from a distance he was sexy.

  Chapter 30: False Start

  She had no other choice but to wear the cream-colored dress, though it was the least attractive of the three. Maybe that was a good thing. She had her share of unwanted attention for the evening.

  The gallery was close to home, on the edge of Georgetown overlooking the Potomac River. It was a small building Juliette had passed often but never bothered to visit. Personally, the art was a little too modern for her taste. It lacked the elegance and charm of the classic oils she loved so much.

  The night’s exhibition was no exception. She and Jordan stood in front of a ten-foot stretched canvas with a black background and several large white boxes. That was it. Nothing more. Juliette overheard someone mention how reflective it was of the modern society and our constant need to pursue the light. Juliette wanted to gag. This work wasn’t good, it was lazy. And some schmuck was going to drop a couple grand on a painting she could have done in her sleep.

  Juliette turned away, already bored. Until she spotted the familiar couple at the gallery entrance.

  Jordan, who had his arm draped lightly around her waist, felt her stiffen and leaned into her. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I just have to…use the ladies room.” She lied. “I’ll only be a moment.”

  She made a beeline for the bathroom before Courtney or Ty could spot her.

  The moment she locked the bathroom door behind her she dialed Winston’s number. After their disastrous trip through Virginia she had his cell phone on speed-dial.

  “Hello, Jules.”

  “Don’t hello Jules me. What the hell is he doing here?”

  “By he, I assume you mean the senator?”

  “You know exactly who I mean.”

  “If I had to take a guess, I’d say he’s there because you’re there, and I’d imagine he’s jealous.”

  “So what? He can’t be here. I can’t get information from Christoff with him glaring at me from across the gallery. And Jordan isn’t supposed to know that I have any connection to the Chase campaign.”

  “Don’t think you’re telling me anything new. I said all this to Ty before he left. But the man is persistent. Once he sets his mind to something he can’t be stopped.”

  “That’s not good enough. Did he tell you he showed up at my apartment earlier?”

  “He may have mentioned it.”

  “So why didn’t you stop him?”

  “I just told you the man doesn’t listen to me. Not when it comes to little Ty Jr.”

  “Please don’t use penis references with me. I don’t need to hear that.”

  “Listen, Jules. You have the flash drive I gave you. You don’t need to stay at the art gallery. Get Jordan to take you to the campaign headquarters and run the software on the drive. That’s all you need to do. It will take five minutes tops.”

  “It’s nearly 9 p.m.”

  “Trust me, the place isn’t deserted. And even if it is, Christoff will have a key. Get there. I’ll see if I can distract Ty and Courtney.”

  The DNC building was dark when Juliette and Jordan arrived. They stopped in front of the odd-shaped circular building and he escorted Juliette past the main doors to a plain-looking metal door on the side. He swiped a key card, entered a code, and then pulled the glass door open. There were only two sets of elevators at the end of the hall, both of which also needed a key card for activation. Jordan swiped the plastic card and the doors slid open.

  The two of them stepped inside an the elevator whisked them upwards. When the elevator stopped and the doors opened and she heard music drifting down the hall.

  Winston had been right. There were people still working.

  Juliette and Jordan followed the sound of Dave Mathews Band while he warned her not to take anything the guys said seriously. Then he pushed open a door and escorted her inside.

  The room was as informal as the lobby had been formal. There were only a handful of offices lining the edge of the space, but the majority of the space took on an open office concept with large tables, chairs, couches, and even a small kitchenette. Like the Chase campaign offices, there was paper everywhere: flyers, posters, banners, leftover campaign materials, white boards with various numbers scrawled across every free surface. Someone had taped a piece of construction paper to the board that read, “DO NOT ERASE, or I will have your head.”

  Okay, so it was a little less organized than Ty’s headquarters. Even with only three people, it had a chaotic energy about it.

  “Jordan, you’re here. I told you that art gallery was a waste of time,” the redhead said without glancing up at them. The other guy gave him a nudge.

  “Who’s this?”

  “This was my date for the evening. For some ungodly reason she wanted to learn more about the campaign, so I promised her a tour of the office.”

  Juliette gave a wave but before she could introduce herself properly the redhead interrupted her.

  “Right, well Ben can do that. I need you now.” The redhead went back to the stack of papers in front of him and the tall lanky guy grinned at her.

  “No problem. I’d be happy to take this lovely lady off your hands so you two can do some real work.”

  Jordan apologized. “Do you mind? It will only take a minute, I’m sure.” Then he left her standing near the doorway.

  She followed Jordan, curious about what pressing item the two could be working on, but Ben intervened.

  “So you want to see the office. I can give you the grand tour if you like. I even know some of the history of the building, if that interests you.”

  She shrugged. “Sure.”

  Getting rid of Ben was easier than she thought. When they passed Robertson’s unlocked office, she faked a coughing attack and asked for a bottle of water. Then as he was leaving, she yelled to him, “I’m just going to use the bathroom. Can you set it outside the door?” And that was that. He went off, she slipped into the office, shut the door behind her, and looked out at the land mine in front of her.

  Chapter 31: Political Espionage

  She set her shoes on the chair beside her. She had taken the heels off so that she could better sneak about unheard. Now she stood in front of a wall-to-wall bookshelf full of dull law review books and various accolades acclaiming his success. She moved to the plaques and skimmed them. There was a humanitarian award and another recognition from the ACLU. There were a few photos of Robertson with some rather influential leaders, including one with former President Clinton himself.

  Juliette wasn’t active in politics. She had never really bothered to vote, or pay attention to any election until now. For the first time since she had started this crazy adventure she questioned whether she was backing the right guy. She stared at Robertson’s wall of accomplishments. He didn’t seem like a monster. He seemed like the kind of person who cared about helping others.

  She turned to the desk and sat down behind the computer screen. A soft green light was lit at the bottom of the monitor and she knew the computer was powered on. She jiggled the mouse and the computer whirled to life. But she was immediately greeted with a log-in screen. Crap. She didn’t have time to try and figure out a password. She pulled out the flash drive from her small purse and stuck it into the USB port. Then she took out her phone and texted READY to the unlisted number.

  The flash drive lit up and within seconds the computer log-in disappeared and was replaced with a black and white screen. Various lines of text filled the screen and she wondered if it was an automatic program running or if Winston was typing furiously on the other end. She glanced down
at her phone. He was supposed to text her again when he was finished. In the meantime she could keep snooping about the office for any other intel that might give them a clue to what the Robertson campaign was up to.

  She began opening and closing drawers but didn’t find anything out of the ordinary. Pens and office supplies, blank stationary, and a box of cigars. Then she came to a locked file cabinet. This was something she could handle. She went back to her bag and pulled out her miniature lock-picking kit. Then she went to work. She crouched down on the floor so that she could more easily see the lock then twisted the two pieces in the metal keyhole. It took her less than thirty seconds to pop the lock.

  She opened the drawer and found a handful of unlabeled file folders. The first one had a few newspaper clippings on Tyler. That wasn’t surprising. Every candidate did opposition research and his appeared to be tame.

  Or at least that was what she thought before she spotted the orange 9-by-11 envelope. It contained not one but several photos of Ty and Juliette. A few also contained Courtney, but those were rare. She froze when she spotted the very same picture that had run in the newspaper. So either Melissa had been trading info with the Robertson camp all along or they paid her good money to betray her friend.

  What she couldn’t figure out was why, if they had all these pictures of Ty and Juliette together, they didn’t run more of them in the paper. Surely they recognized her as the same woman.

  What if Jordan had seen these photos? Did the chief of staff recognize her as the girl with Tyler? Had her cover been blown before the night even started?

  No, she cast the idea aside. She didn’t recall any indication that Jordan recognized her. And he would have never taken her to the campaign office if he knew her true identity. So maybe Robertson was keeping this a secret from his team?

  Jules moved to the third folder. It contained several more newspaper clippings, all related to some rezoning project. She didn’t know what it was, but it looked like there was going to be a lot of money involved and the sale of some historic landmarks to private owners as a result. She flipped through the dozen or so clippings, only stopping when her eye caught a photo of Robertson at a fundraising event. There were three men in sharply dressed suits smiling back at the camera. One of them was Robertson. The other man was Senator Reis, the guy who died six months ago, after which Tyler had been appointed to fill his vacant seat.

 

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