Page 55 of Lie With Me
“No, you don’t. Things are going well then, between you two?” He grabs the bag from the bakery and fishes out a cookie.
Snatching the bag from his hands, I fall into my chair and put my shirt back on. “Things are fine. Still not thrilled she walks around the club half-dressed with men drooling all over her, but you’re right. She’s not the type of woman to be kept. As for the meeting, it went. Knolls is pushing back, but you knew that was gonna happen. He’s not impressed that you’re building the centerfor Ginny.”
“Fuck Knolls.”
“I’d rather have fucked my fiancée just now, thanks.”
“Fakefiancée.”
“You know I’m getting real tired of you reminding me of that.”
“That’s okay. I’m getting tired of you forgetting it. She’s going to break your heart, and things will be awkward for Ginny when that happens. Lenni is her best friend, and you’re mine. Maybe it’s time you tell her how you really feel.”
“Oh, and you know how I feel, do you?”
“Yeah, Tripp, I do. It’s written all over your face. Your head over heels for her, so tell her. Tell her you want it to be real.” He gets up and heads toward thedoor. “Let her know before you fall completely in love with her. Save yourself more heartache.”
His words bother me. “Why are you so against us being together? It isn’t funny anymore, Jackson. What’s your deal?”
His shoulders slump as he turns around to face me. “I told you, I’m just watching out for your feelings. You forget I was there when Emily did what she did. It nearly destroyed you. The way you are with Lenni? It doesn’t even come close to the way you were with Emily. This won’t nearly destroy you. It will end you. You won’t believe in love anymore. So, unless you want to become a coldhearted bastard. I suggest you tell her sooner rather than later.”
I remain quiet as he leaves. Not wanting to correct him, or willing to admit that I’ve already fallen for her.
Lenni
Désirer is slow for a Saturday night—either that or the rooms are all filled with the majority of the clients that would typically be gathered in the Grand Room at this hour.
“I don’t remember the last time you wore a pair of black or whites,” the bartender, Jace, says as he slides a shot of mezcal over the bartop toward me. I’ve always had a sneaking suspicion that Jace is his real name and not astagename, as we like to use here. He’s got a California tan with a head full of wavy golden hair that drives the clients wild.
“Sticking to the gold rooms right now. It’s nice to have a palette cleanser,” I tell him before tipping my head back to take my shot.
“Well, when you’re ready to get back in the game, let me know. I’m ready for a little group action,” he jests.
We’ve worked together in the past, both in group sessions and just fucking for clients to watch.Usually, when group sessions happen, Angels want to keep working with other Angels who make them comfortable. It’s just like any other job—you like some coworkers and don’t like others.
The sound of a throat being cleared right behind me has me spinning to see Tripp standing there. Mask or no mask, his curls and million-dollar smile give him away every time—that and the fact that he seeks me out as soon as he gets here.
Anonymity is the entire point of this club. But we never have any trouble finding each other in the crowd. Although, most people easily recognize me—Bianca—from my scar, which is usually on display.
Tripp glares daggers over my shoulder at Jace as he clenches his fists at his side—a telltale sign that he overheard what Jace said.
“Hi, I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight,” I tell him as I slide as gracefully as I can from my stool, thankful that my skin doesn’t stick to the material like it does when I wear less clothing. Since I’m in the Confessional wing tonight, I’m wearing a simple black slip dress with scalloped lace and thigh-high stockings.
“We haven’t seen each other since Thursday. I didn’t know how else to see you. I feel like you’ve been avoiding me,” he states lowly. His eyes continue to dart over my shoulder, his jawbone working against his cheek as he clenches his teeth.
Lowering my voice so no one overhears us, I tell him, “Sorry, I’ve been picking up shifts at Decadence and running errands for Carmela. And you’ve beenbusy with work. Besides, I thought taking a little break from each other would be good for us. With so much coming up soon, we’ll be spending a lot of time together.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing. I don’t see the problem here. And why are you picking up shifts at the restaurant? Do you need money?” The annoyance etched into his features bleeds into concern as he reaches for my hand.
Before I can answer him, we’re interrupted by the booker for the Desires wing. “Miss Bianca, you’re being summoned.”
“I’m not working that wing tonight. You’ll have to tell the client I’m not interested.” My hand flexes in Tripp’s, and I can see him watching me intently from my peripheral.
“I was told you’d say that, and I’m supposed to tell you it’s an order, not a request, from Miss Scarlett.”
Perking up, I turn my head back to Tripp. “Oooh, I’m being summoned by the bosses.”
Scarlett was Ginny’s stage name for the brief amount of time she worked here. She and Jackson like to come once a month to play out fantasies that just aren’t the same at home as they are inside the dressed-up rooms of Désirer.