Page 53 of Lie With Me
All this party will be is another reminder of how much I’m beginning to want Tripp for real and how I can’t have him.
As the server brings the check, I discreetly pull my credit card from my purse beneath the table and hand it to him. Margo sputters as she watches the man walk away. “I was going to pay for the meal.”
“How about you walk with me to Ferrara, and you can pay for dessert? Tripp loves their pignoli cookies, and I’m going to see him later.”
I’m overwhelmed with a sudden urge to be kind to her—chalk it up to my damn mommy issues.
All poor Margo wants to do is throw a party forher son and the stray he brought home with a four-carat diamond slapped on her hand.
The sad thing is, in another life, I think I’d like Margo. A life where I could bemyself.
And I think she’d like me.
“That’s acceptable. I had no idea he liked…whatever it was you called them.” She seems surprised again that there is something about her son that I know, and she doesn’t.
“We tend to eat a lot of dessert in bed.” I leave out that it’s mainly off each other.
Tripp and I have spent an exorbitant amount of time together since Sunday, and over the past few days, we’ve discovered that Tripp likes food play.
And I’ve discovered that I really like helping him try new things.
Margo shakes her head and waves a hand in my direction as we exit the restaurant. “I don’t need to hear those things.”
“Oh, come on, Margo. You and Weylan probably have a great sex life. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s healthy to talk about sex!”
People passing by turn to look at me, and Margo ducks her head in embarrassment. “Valentina! Keep it down! This is highly inappropriate talk for the sidewalk.”
“Oh, don’t be a prude. You’re probably a wildcat in bed.” I smile at her and watch in amusement as she perks up a little.
“I know what you’re trying to do. And while I know you are not accustomed to how things run inour circles, I know you know this is neither the time nor place to be talking about this.” Her tone has no bite and she looks like she’s fighting a smile as she chastises me.
We walk into Ferrara, ordering the cookies and both original and chocolate-covered cannoli. Margo takes her time wandering around to look at everything and picks up a few things for her and Weylan to try.
“Why don’t you ride with me back uptown? I can drop you off at Tripp’s,” she offers as she messages her driver that she’s ready to be picked up.
For a moment, I freeze, unable to tell her I don’t have a key to his place and he’s working late at the office tonight. But with that thought, I ask, “Actually, he’s working. Can you drop me off at the office?”
Tripp
“The company isn’t big enough to merge. Acquire and consolidate them with Tailor Tech. Cut them loose if they don’t want to go that route. We don’t need to waste our time or money. Jackson wants to focus on buying up as many businesses as possible surrounding the new center.”
“Ah, yes. The Scott Tailor Family Center. Jackson’s dumping quite a lot of money into that thing for his soon-to-be wife,” David Knolls, an older-than-dirt geezer who should have retired ten years ago, drawls. For whatever reason, the man respected Scott, but is evident in his dislike for Jackson.
Tapping my ballpoint against the notepad in front of me, I toss it down before leaning back in my chair, fixing him with a stony glare. “And for good reason. It will be nice for the neighborhood to have a place like that. Ginny wants to focus on low-income families, and I think Scott would have given the project his seal of approval. So, is there a problem?”
David gathers his things before heading for the exit to the meeting room we’re in. “No problem here.”
As soon as the door closes behind him, one of the younger guys sitting at the far end of the meeting table lets out a low whistle. At first, I think it’s from the tense interaction, but I see him nudge the guy sitting next to him as he nods behind me.
“That your new secretary, Kennedy? How the fuck do you guys get the hot ones? I keep getting stuck with women who look like Sheila in accounting,” he says.
Turning, I look through the giant glass wall of the meeting room to see Valentina making her way down the path between the cubicles of the office. She’s wearing a pair of skinny leather pants, with gray heels and an oversized sweater in the same color that’s falling off her shoulder. A black peacoat is thrown over her arm, and she’s carrying a large bag from Ferrara’s.
So simple, yet so breathtakingly beautiful.
“That’s no one’s secretary, Donner. That happens to bemysoon-to-be wife,” I declare with a grin as I catch her gaze. A smile lights up her face as she slows her steps and nods to my office.
Murmurs flare up as I turn back around and rise from my seat, leaving my stuff on the table. “If you’ll all excuse me. I think we’re done here.”