Tell Me to Go
Charlotte Byrd
Byrd Books, LLC
Contents
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1. When we arrive…
2. When he tells me the truth…
3. When he makes me choose…
4. When I wait for more…
5. When I receive the present…
6. When he sees me…
7. When it’s time to play…
8. When we meet them…
9. When I see her…
10. When she sees me…
11. When I tell her part of the truth…
12. When we make plans…
13. When we discuss terms…
14. When I get a call…
15. When a secret slips out…
16. When he tells me a story…
17. When he asks me for a favor…
18. When I run away…
19. When we play a game…
20. When he makes me cry…
21. When I have to make a choice…
22. When we make a plan…
23. When the plan changes…
24. When there’s an interruption…
25. When he surprises me…
26. When we talk…
27. When he speaks…
28. When I speak…
29. When we listen to him…
30. When I talk to him…
31. When we wait…
32. When we eat…
33. When I find out the truth…
34. When we kiss…
35. When there is an interruption…
36. When they take care of the problem…
37. When I find out why…
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About Charlotte Byrd
Copyright © 2019 by Charlotte Byrd, LLC.
All rights reserved.
Proofreaders:
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Cover Design: Charlotte Byrd
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a word of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Visit my website at www.charlotte-byrd.com
Identifiers
•Tell Me to Go (Hardcover): 978-1-63225-055-1
•Tell Me to Go (Paperback): 978-1-63225-054-4
•Tell Me to Go (eBook): 978-1-63225-053-7
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About Tell Me to Go
His offer: 365 days and nights = $1 million
My addendum: I’m not doing that
His promise: Before the year is up, you’ll beg for it
My days of lying and stealing are over, but then Nicholas Crawford makes me an offer I can’t refuse. Spend a year pretending to be his significant other in exchange for $1 million dollars.
I tried to put that part of my life, and those hard-won skills, behind me. But I need the money. He needs a partner.
I told him that I’d never sleep with him. He promised me that I would end up begging for it. Now, I want him more than ever.
Especially when I run my fingers over his chiseled body and he teases me with his tongue.
Especially when he puts his hands on the small of my back and kisses me.
I want him so much I am going to scream. I want him so much…I might even beg.
Praise for Charlotte Byrd
“Extremely captivating, sexy, steamy, intriguing, and intense!” ★★★★★
“Addictive and impossible to put down.” ★★★★★
“I can’t get enough of the turmoil, lust, love, drama, and secrets!” ★★★★★
“Fast-paced romantic suspense filled with twists and turns, danger, betrayal, and so much more.” ★★★★★
“Decadent, delicious, & dangerously addictive!” - Amazon Review ★★★★★
“Titillation so masterfully woven, no reader can resist its pull. A MUST-BUY!” - Bobbi Koe, Amazon Review ★★★★★
“Captivating!” - Crystal Jones, Amazon Review ★★★★★
“Sexy, secretive, pulsating chemistry…” - Mrs. K, Amazon Reviewer ★★★★★
“Charlotte Byrd is a brilliant writer. I've read loads and I've laughed and cried. She writes a balanced book with brilliant characters. Well done!” -Amazon Review ★★★★★
“Hot, steamy, and a great storyline.” - Christine Reese ★★★★★
“My oh my....Charlotte has made me a fan for life.” - JJ, Amazon Reviewer ★★★★★
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Also by Charlotte Byrd
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Tell me Series
Tell Me to Stop
Tell Me to Go
Tell Me to Stay
Tell Me to Run
Tell Me to Fight
Tell Me to Lie
Tangled Series
Tangled up in Ice
Tangled up in Pain
Tangled up in Lace
Tangled up in Hate
Tangled up in Love
Black Series
Black Edge
Black Rules
Black Bounds
Black Contract
Black Limit
Lavish Trilogy
Lavish Lies
Lavish Betrayal
Lavish Obsession
Standalone Novels
Debt
Offer
Unknown
Dressing Mr. Dalton
1
When we arrive…
I glance over at Nicholas Crawford as we ride the elevator to the penthouse of the Wailea Lani Resort and Spa.
He gives me a wink. He looks excited.
I’m consumed by terror.
Nicholas Crawford is an enigma. I don’t know what he does for a living. I don’t know how he makes his money. I don’t know why he made me that offer. What I do know is that my desire for him is so strong it feels like an addiction.
The other thing that I know is that he likes to play games.
Not long ago, he sent me a check for almost one hundred and sixty-eight thousand dollars without leaving his name. It was only after I deposited it and paid off my student loans that he invited me to his home in Hawaii.
Then he made me an offer.
Spend a year with him, traveling, pretending to be his date, his girlfriend, whatever he needs, and in ret
urn he will pay me one million dollars. When I told him that there was no way I would ever sleep with him, he promised that before our time was up, I’d be begging him to do it.
His offer frightened me. But it wasn’t because I didn’t want to accept, it was because I did. Overwhelmed by feelings that I couldn’t handle, I ran back home only to discover that my mother had made a mess of her life, only this time she’d put herself in real danger. The only thing that would save her was fifty-thousand dollars and Nicholas sent me the money without me even having to ask.
Why did I come back to Maui?
Sometimes, standing still isn’t enough.
Sometimes, you have to take a chance.
Sometimes, doing something that scares the shit out of you is the only way to move forward.
I don’t know if his offer is still available.
I don’t know if I would accept it even if it were.
I don’t know why we are pretending to be Mr. and Mrs. Landon.
What I do know is that when he touches my hand, he rouses every cell in my body.
What I do know is that when he intertwines his fingers with mine, I never want to let him go.
A woman with a long mane of curls comes up to us. “Thank you for coming,” she says, shaking Nicholas’ hand.
“Albert Landon. This is my wife, Olivia Thom…Landon,” Nicholas says, correcting himself as if he had made a mistake using my maiden name instead of my married name.
The lies flow out so naturally, they feel like the truth.
Nicholas smiles at me, almost giggling, giving me a warm squeeze. We are supposed to be newlyweds staying at this resort for our honeymoon.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, I think we’ll walk around first,” he says.
“Yes, of course. The bar is right over there.”
Nicholas nods and pulls me toward the center of the room by my hand. Intimidated by all of the people in their cocktail attire and accurate life stories, I grab onto his arm and stay close to him. I want to ask him what we’re doing here. I want to ask him who I’m supposed to be even though we already went over this.
A waiter walks around with glasses of white wine. Nicholas grabs one for himself and one for me. Now, we look like everyone else in the room. The penthouse is huge with various seating nooks arranged just so, giving the place an inviting feel.
I rest my glass on a tall cocktail table, but Nicholas nods for me to follow him. We smile as we walk past groups of people sitting on couches and around tables.
What mesmerizes me most is the view through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the wrap-around balcony, which looks over the ocean. Water goes all the way to the horizon and I yearn to be out there somewhere, instead of in this room.
“This is my wife, Olivia Landon,” Nicholas introduces me to a group of people standing around a roulette table.
He thought it would be best that I use my real name so that I wouldn’t forget to respond when he called me.
Nicholas purchases chips directly from the dealer and places six of them just on the outside line of two rows of three numbers. The point of roulette is to place the chips on the numbers you think that the ball will land on and this way he is betting on the whole block of six numbers. The dealer spins the wheel, releasing the ball. I watch the board and other people’s bets. When my eyes return to his bet, all I know is that he lost some and won others.
“Oh, well.” He shrugs and repeats the process.
“So, where are you two from?” the woman standing next to me says.
She has big hair and long nails and a thick nasally accent. She’s also not playing and looks as bored as I feel.
“Boston,” I say. “We’re here on our honeymoon.”
This is only partly a lie.
“Oh, how wonderful! I’m Kathy. My husband and I are celebrating our ten year anniversary. Second marriages for both.”
“Congratulations,” I say, shaking her hand.
“We’re fellow East Coasters. We’re from New Jersey.”
“Oh, nice,” I feign interest. “I used to vacation at the Jersey shore all the time as a kid.”
“Really? Where?”
Shit.
I haven’t practiced this.
I’ve never been to the state but I try to remember a city that I heard of from television.
“Cape May?” I say, but it comes out more like a question than an answer.
“Yes, of course! Great place. We’re not too far from there.”
I nod, letting out a sigh of relief.
“What do you do?” she asks.
“I’m an assessment writer.”
Nicholas and I have practiced this. Just tell the truth, he said. You have an interesting job that you can talk about a lot and that’s exactly what we need.
“Goodness, what does that mean?” she gasps.
I laugh.
“Basically, I write test questions for all of those standardized tests that kids have to take in schools.”
“Wow, I had no idea that was a job.”
“Somebody’s gotta do it,” I say with a shrug. “I write the math ones.”
“Math?” She puts her hand over her mouth. Her whole body shudders. “I think I need another drink just to get over the PTSD that I still suffer from high school algebra.”
I laugh. This reaction is nothing that I’m not used to.
Most people hate math and they aren’t afraid to tell me to my face.
“C’mon, let’s let these guys play their game. Get a drink with me,” she says, tugging at my arm.
My eyes search for Nicholas’.
I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.
“Oh, get me some whiskey,” he says, placing another bet. “You know what kind I like.”
My blood runs cold.
Though I may know math, I know nothing about whiskey. Not even a name of a company that makes it. But Kathy waves at me again and I have no choice but to follow her.
2
When he tells me the truth…
Kathy is talking my ear off as if we have known each other for ages. I walk up to the bar only half listening.
I’m not a very good liar and I do not think well on my feet.
My heart is pounding out of my chest.
I am cursing at myself for ever coming back here. To him.
“What’s the best kind of whiskey that you have?” I ask.
“We have Johnny Walker Blue. Macallan Rare.”
I’ve heard of the first one so I opt for the second.
“Great choice, ma’am.”
“Wow, your husband has expensive taste,” Kathy says, taking a glass of Pinot Grigio.
It feels like the moment when I should complain about something, so I roll my eyes and nod.
“I know, right?” I say. “He complains about how much I spend on my shoes, but then has no problem spending money on stuff like this. At least, after it’s all said and done, I still have my shoes.”
“My husband is the same way with cars.”
We laugh as I deliver his drink back to the table.
“Thank you, honey,” Nicholas says, reaching his hand out for the glass.
He takes a step toward me, bumping into Kathy.
She collides with me and the drink goes crashing down to the floor.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” I say, kneeling down over the mess.
Ice cubes mixed with glass and a puddle of whiskey are spreading over the wreckage.
I reach to pick up a piece, but the group of waiters push me away.
One of them carefully sweeps all the shards up with a little broom while the others blot away the liquid with a dishrag.
A moment later, it’s as if nothing happened.
Nicholas helps me to my feet.
“You really didn’t need to help,” he whispers.
“I can’t help it,” I say, more for Kathy’s benefit than my own. “I’m not used to
having servers around.”
She laughs and joins her husband around the roulette table.
“Well, it was nice to meet you, Paul,” Nicholas says, tugging at my arm. “We’ll have to get a round of golf in sometime.”
“Yes, of course,” Paul says without looking away from the table.
Nicholas gives me a small smile on our way out.
“What was the point of all that?” I ask, when we get back to our room.
Nicholas goes directly to his bag and packs up the few things that we have scattered on the bed.
“We’re not staying here?” I ask.
“No,” he says.
I pack up my stuff and follow him to his car.
It is only after we drive out of the resort and disappear onto the highway that zigzags along the cliff that Nicholas opens his mouth.
“Thank you,” he says without taking his eyes off the road.
“Thank you for what?”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tennis bracelet.
There are six rows of diamonds with a delicate clasp in the back.
Tell Me to Go Page 1
