Page 24 of Lie With Me
It’s too dangerous.
“You’re about to lie to me. I can see it in your eyes,” Tripp murmurs against my lips before kissing me again.
Pushing him back gently, I shake my head. “I can’t think straight when you kiss me.”
His smile causes poisonous little butterflies toflutter about in my stomach. “Spend the night with me.”
“I told you, I have to go to work.” Moving around him, I exit the building. The cold winter chill stings my skin as I head to the curb to hail a cab.
“I’ll see you there then.” He follows me outside and shrugs when I spin to glare at him. “I’m not giving up.”
Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Did Jackson give you the address?”
He looks like a king who just conquered a kingdom. “He sure did.”
“Okay, fine. Go and do your intake. Once they escort you into the Grand Room, tell security you’re waiting for Bianca, and I’ll come find you. You can watch tonight andthendecide if you still want me to pretend to be your fiancée. I’ll be there in an hour.”
I’m fucking crazy for agreeing to this.
Tripp sticks his hands in his pockets and stalks closer as I wave my hand at a car coming down the street. “And when the night is over, and I still want you. How much for your help? There will be a lot of appearances at social events—a lot of pretending like you’re in love with me. I already know you’re a good actress. So what’s your price?”
“A million dollars,” I tell him, knowing he’ll never go for it.
He laughs incredulously. “Absolutely not. Two hundred thousand.”
“Five hundred thousand,” I counter as the cab approaches the curb.
“Deal. I’ll see you in an hour, Viv.” He holds his hand out for me to shake.
Holy fucking shit.
Attempting to hide my surprise, I ignore his offered hand and open the backdoor. “I would have done it for two.”
Stepping closer, he tucks my hair behind my ear. “I would have paid a million.”
Tripp
Jackson is supposed to have been the one to take me to Désirer and teach me the ropes on my first visit. He’s at least explained enough over the last few months that I don’t feel like a complete jackass when security has me sign my papers and issues my membership card.
When his uncle brought him for the first time, Scott made him wear a blindfold. Jackson, however, gave me the address for the entrance through the back of a hole-in-the-wall pizza joint. I don’t even have to wear a mask while I do my intake.
But the second I’m escorted into the Grand Room, I feel like a fish out of water.
I’m sure they named it the way they did because it’s just that.Grand.
A giant chandelier hangs in the center of the room over an oval bar, casting a glow over the entire space. The floors are a deep mahogany, the walls a shade of red with a gleaming gold pattern that reminds me ofsomething you’d see in the Victorian era. Multiple pieces of furniture litter the area, all a shimmering shade of nutmeg.
People are lounging everywhere or walking around talking to others, and everyone is wearing a mask. Some are simple and plain, like the one they gave me to use for tonight. Others are exotic—some shaped like animal heads, some like clown jesters or in the style of the Victorian theater.
Some clients wear suits even though it's a Saturday—people like me who have come from a fancy event or are here just to talk. Some men and women are dressed in sexy lingerie or silk pajama sets.
Then, there are the crowned jewels.
The Angels.
Wearing the wings of their tiers on their backs like trophies.
When Jackson told me about the wings, I imagined giant decorative ones like the Victoria’s Secret Angels wear on the runway. The ones these Angels wear aren’t as ostentatious, but no less impressive.