by Jenny Lynn
White Lies
Dangerous Duet - Book One
Jenny Lynn
Untitled
The characters in this series are not based on any other individuals; living, dead, or fictional. Any resemblance is purely coincidental.
The author retains all rights over the works, no parts may be used or reproduced without permission, except in the case of brief quotations for review purposes.
Copyright © Jenny Lynn
Prologue
It was raining hard outside, heavy droplets tapping rhythmically against the windows. It seemed all too appropriate for a funeral, as if the weather had been ordered along with the flowers and heavy oak casket. The obituary ran in that morning’s paper, a full page dedicated to Simon Blackstone. The length of the piece would strike many as an honor but to Nicholas Blackstone it seemed insufficient. Simon had been a respected businessman, a generous philanthropist, a world traveler who adored his wife and children. The obituary to Nicholas seemed to reduce the life of a loved one, a great man, to a mere handful of simple paragraphs.
In the stuffy church the remaining Blackstone family sat solidly in the front row, eyes glassy as the eulogy was given. Beside him Nicholas’ mother wept, her small shoulders bobbing with each shallow sob as she held a handkerchief against her cheek. He placed a hand on her knee gently and she looked at him. People said he looked like his father but that he had his mother’s eyes. Right now her eyes were red, watery and slightly swollen. She tried to give him a faint smile, but sobbed again, turning her attention back towards the front where the priest continued speaking in his soothing monotone voice. On his other side sat his sisters, equally devastated. Together they were all reeling from the sudden loss.
When the service concluded a line formed and people came forward to pay their respects. Nicholas heard variations of the same sentiments expressed again and again; his father was a good man, he would be dearly missed, he was taken from this world too soon. Nicholas kept a steady face and nodded to them all, a strong silent figure in the swirling void that loss created. It amazed him how easily life was wiped from this world, leaving those behind to pick up the pieces. When the room had cleared of all but close friends and family he neared the casket once more to look down upon the cold pale face of his father, a face similar to his own, only older. A chill crept into his heart and refused to leave. The devastating truth could not be ignored; Simon Blackstone was really and truly gone.
1
The alarm blared and I rolled over under the sheets, pressing my face into my pillow and trying unsuccessfully to ignore the noise. I turned onto my back and looked up at the water stain on the ceiling of my bedroom. This was my life. A small, dingy apartment and working as a waitress full-time while I attended school. Slipping my legs over the edge of the bed I turned off the alarm then stood up and headed for the shower. I stripped out of my shorts and tank top, discarding them on the floor, and stepped under the warm stream of water. I closed my eyes, it felt wonderful against my skin and helped me wake up as I lathered my body with vanilla scented soap. After washing my hair I applied conditioner and quickly shaved my legs by balancing on the edge of the tub. When I was done I rinsed off and stepped out, water beading on me as I wrapped a towel around my body.
I wiped the steam from the mirror and stared at my reflection. My eyes were still red with dark circles from a night of crying, but that could be hidden with makeup. The hard part was going to be smiling through the day when I had just been dumped. “Get it together Breanne,” I told my reflection. I dried my hair, the nozzle roaring in the enclosed space, then scooped it up into a ponytail. My makeup took me another fifteen minutes, with the help of concealer and eye drops I looked alert and refreshed. Now all I needed to do was get dressed.
In my room I opened my closet and took out my uniform; a pressed black skirt and a white blouse. I slipped them on then put in gold stud earrings and a thin gold necklace that had been a gift from my parents when I moved to Chicago for school. I placed my black pumps in my bag and stepped into my flats for the commute. The restaurant where I worked as a waitress was uptown, I would be there in twenty five minutes and ready to start the brunch shift.
I headed out and locked the door behind me, then went down the stairs onto the street. The city was starting to come alive around me, people were jogging along the sidewalk or flagging down taxis. I breathed in the morning air as I walked to my stop and when the streetcar came I got on, paid my fare and was able to find a seat near the back. It would drop me off two blocks from the restaurant, until then I had time to read. In my seat I pulled a textbook out of my bag and started to review; I was studying Psychology at The University of Chicago in my first year. I found the subject compelling, and with my busy schedule I needed to find every chance to review materials that I could. When I was on public transit, a break at work or every spare moment at home I had my eyes focused on a book in my hands.
I had the suspicious feeling I was being watched and glanced up, making eye contact with a cute guy wearing a backpack. He looked about my age, probably a student as well. He smiled at me and I hesitated a moment before looking back down at my book. I didn’t want to give him any indication he should come over and talk to me. My heart was still broken, and besides, I had made a promise to myself last night that I was going to focus entirely on my studies. Dating was a distraction I didn’t want or need.
I heard my stop called out and shoved my book back into my bag, making my way to the doors and waiting. When we came to a stop I stepped out onto the street and walked the few blocks north to the restaurant. Outside the tall building I balanced against the wall as I switched into my heels. Cafe Mirage was on the top floor, bathed in warm natural light with a breathtaking view of the city. After a quick elevator ride the doors opened into an immaculate space, white linens on the tables with fresh flowers in silver vases. The open kitchen was against a brick wall, all within view of the diners, the appliances polished steel. I walked over to the waitress station and wrapped a white apron around my waist.
“Morning Breanne,” said Sandra, another waitress as she brought out glasses from the back.
“Good morning,” I told her. “Expect we’ll be busy today?”
“I think so, I hope you got a good night’s rest. We have about twenty reservations this morning.”
I smiled, glad to hear it. A busy morning meant more tips, which meant I could pay for rent and school. I saw our manager, Mark, walk from the kitchen towards us.
“I have some bad news girls,” he began. “Christine called in sick, and I wasn’t able to find a replacement on such short notice. It’s going to be just the two of you.”
I looked from Sandra to Mark. “No problem,” I assured him. “We can do it.”
“I know you can. Sandra you can get started on cutlery, Breanne I need to speak with you for a second.”
I watched as Sandra walked away, shooting me a worried glance over her shoulder. Mark was a tough and demanding boss, I was nervous to hear what he had to say to me and hoped it wasn’t about my performance. I needed this job.
“Relax Breanne,” he told me, taking in my expression. “You’re doing a great job, I’m glad I hired you. The situation is we have important guests in today, they’ve reserved our entire back room so they can have a private meeting. It will only be four but I’m going to need you to be very attentive to them. Make sure they have everything they need, when they need it. They arrive in an hour and a half.”
I nodded, wondering why a group of four needed a private room when our main dining area was spacious and beautiful. We were an expensive restaurant so I was used to a certain class of people, but this still struck me as a bit over the top.
“It’s not a problem,” I told Mark. “I’ll take c
are of it.”
“Great,” he told me. Mark walked away, back towards the kitchen and I headed over to Sandra to help finish setup.
“What did he want?” she asked me.
“There’s a group in the private room today, he wants me to take care of them.”
Sandra looked at bit put off. “Why didn’t he ask me? I’ve worked here for years.”
I shrugged. “Considering how busy it’s going to be today, do you really want to add a demanding private group to your workload?”
She thought about it for a moment then shook her head. “No, you’re right. Let me know if you need any help out here later when it starts to get packed.”
“I will,” I assured her.
We had just finished setting up when the first diners arrived. Sandra showed them to their table and by the time she brought their coffee we had seated four other groups. In a half hour the restaurant was humming with conversations and activity. I went smoothly from table to table, bringing drinks and meals, refilling water and smiling. When I noticed a couple’s baby drop her toy I was there in a heartbeat placing it back into her chubby little hands. I was working calmly and efficiently, losing myself in the tasks and forgetting all about my personal problems. It was better than yoga for me to enter a different state of mind. With just the two of us though it was busy work, and I barely had a second to stop.
I was bringing coffee to a table when I noticed Mark at the front doors, greeting a group with a wide smile plastered on his face and gesturing for them to follow him. When he scanned the restaurant and saw me, he nodded and I knew this group was the private party. I couldn’t get a good look at them, just four men in nice suits walking into our back room.
I dropped off the coffees and did a quick tour of my tables to refill water glasses, then I walked over to the back where Mark was waiting for me. Our private room was typically for parties and events, but this morning there was only a single table set up. The back wall was exposed brick and wood beams ran along the high ceiling. I approached the table with a smile and greeted the men.
“Good morning, my name is Breanne and I’ll be your server today. Can I get you anything to start?”
“Coffee with cream and sugar,” said one man with greying hair.
“Same,” grunted another.
“Me too,” said a third.
My eyes fell on the fourth man, much younger than the others. He was wearing a pressed grey suit with a matching silk tie, where the others were all wearing black. He looked up at me, his piercing blue eyes staring straight into my own. He was handsome, with smooth dark hair and a strong jaw.
“I’ll have a coffee, black, please,” he asked me. I nodded, breaking eye contact as I turned on my heel to leave. I heard the men jump right into a conversation, and when I looked back from the doorway I saw that the younger man was still looking at me as I walked away.
I busied myself at the coffee machine, getting their order ready when Sandra came up beside me. “Two of your tables requested the bill, need me to drop them off?”
“That would be amazing, thank you,” I told her.
“What’s the private group like?” she asked as she started to print receipts.
“They seem like they’re here for some kind of meeting, I’m not sure. One of them is a lot younger than the others.”
I placed the coffees on a tray, picked up cream and sugar, then walked back towards the room. They were deep in conversation when I approached.
“The shareholders think it would be prudent to sign over in entirety,” said one man.
“We need to be thoughtful of any eventuality, and to be honest, some of your lifestyle choices make the shareholders nervous,” said another.
I placed coffee down in front of each of them then stood back, holding the tray against me. The younger man looked back up at me. “Thank you,” he said with a gorgeous smile. I guessed he was in his late twenties or early thirties.
“You’re welcome,” I told him. He seemed to be the only one at the table that had any manners. “Do you need more time or are you ready to order?” I asked the group.
One of the men glanced at the menu. “Eggs benedict,” he said not looking at me.
“Poached egg on whole wheat,” said the other before falling back in conversation with the man beside him.
“Asparagus omelette,” said the third. Finally I came to the younger man, who was watching me this entire time.
“What do you recommend?” he asked, tilting his head slightly and tapping the menu with his finger.
“That depends,” I told him. “Are you in the mood for sweet or savory?”
He looked at me, his gaze lingering and intense. “Sweet, most definitely,” he told me. I couldn’t help but blush and look down at my hands. Was it my imagination or was he flirting with me?
“Well in that case, I would suggest the mixed berry crepe with mascarpone cheese. It’s one of our best dishes, in my opinion,” I told him.
“That sounds perfect, thank you Breanne,” he said.
I turned and hurried out of the room to put in the order, aware of him watching me again as I went. While the kitchen started on their food I quickly checked on my other tables, dropping off food or bills, refilling water or coffee. When the private party’s breakfast was ready I balanced the plates and brought them over. They were in the midst of a heated conversation when I arrived.
“Listen, Nicholas,” one of the men was saying. “No one is doubting your future or leadership. Simon left you in charge of the company in his will, and we are all here to advise you during the transition. I just think it’s prudent to name Liam as second in command to pacify the shareholders.”
“Liam is still an Executive, and when the dust settles he and I can have a conversation about succession. But I’m planning on being with the company for a long time and it doesn’t make sense for me to get that ball rolling so early. Besides, I know Liam feels he should have been left in charge instead of me. We need to find a balance and a good working relationship before I name anyone else as my second in command.”
“There is no one else more qualified,” said one of the men. “The board is expecting you to indicate Liam.”
“Well then they’re in for a surprise. Because I’m not ready, and I’m a cautious man. I don’t do anything until it’s been well thought out.”
I placed the plates down one at a time, now knowing the younger man was actually the one in charge and his name was Nicholas. I reached forward to place his plate down and he looked into my eyes again, pale blue searching into my hazel green. My hand shook slightly and I accidentally bumped into a glass of water, tipping it over and watching in horror as it crept over a pile of documents.
“What the hell are you doing!” shouted the older man, picking up the pages while water dripped off of them. “How hard is your job, really, to be able to put down a dish and not cause a disaster?”
“I’m so, so sorry,” I stammered, mopping at the wet spot on the table. “I didn’t mean-”
“To ruin important documents? Well you did,” the man spat back.
“Jeffrey,” Nicholas cut in. “It was an accident, and I’m telling you to stop.” His voice was firm, and at his command the older man snapped his mouth shut but still glared at me.
“It’s really not a problem,” Nicholas continued to tell me, placing a hand lightly on my arm. “I was never going to sign them anyways.” I looked down at the place where he made physical contact, feeling an electric current run through me.
“I really am sorry,” I told him.
His smile warmed me. “I know, and I assure you, it’s okay.”
I swallowed hard and walked away to let them eat their meal. I felt so embarrassed, I couldn’t believe I had made such a mess of their meeting. I was on edge as I checked on my other tables, wondering how Mark would react when he inevitably found out what I had done. When I went back to check on the group one of the older men pointed at his coffee cup, still visibly anno
yed with me, and I went around the table refilling. Nicholas continued to watch me whenever I went into the room and thanked me whenever I did something for him. When they were done I timidly brought the bill and apologized again for any issue I had caused. The men shrugged into their jackets and amid their protests Nicholas paid the bill, leaving cash on the table as the group left. When they walked past he looked at me, giving me a small smile, and then they were gone.
Once I was alone in the room I felt like I could finally breathe again. That had been more stress than I expected for a brunch service. I cleared the plates and picked up the billfold, then I blinked as I checked the amount left behind. My jaw fell open as I realized that Nicholas had left their clumsy, bumbling waitress a two hundred dollar tip. I stared at the door they had passed through and found myself wondering who Nicholas was and why he had been so kind to me.
2
I was curled up on my bed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, reviewing my notes from today’s lecture. My phone buzzed and I checked the message, it was from my friend Tabitha.
Stop ignoring me. I’m going out tonight and you’re coming with me.
I shook my head. She was nothing if not persistent. I typed out a reply.
Not tonight, studying.
My social life was not as active as most students, but ever since I had met Tabitha in one of my classes she did her best to get me out. She was a lot of fun and we were becoming great friends, I just didn’t think I had it in me tonight. My phone buzzed again.
Open your door.
I stared at the screen, puzzled, then I put down my book and walked over to the door. Looking out the peephole I saw Tabitha, standing outside looking fabulous in a fitted violet dress and waving a bottle of wine at me. I laughed and opened the door, revealing my own lackluster outfit. Tabitha looked me over then came inside.
