Twisted Lies 2 (7 page)

I arched a brow. “He’s that thorough?”

Ariana pursed her lips while pouring
champagne. “Yes, but surprisingly, he didn’t find shit on
Bigsby.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” I asked.

Ariana’s eyes narrowed. “No, not when it
comes to Bigsby. Irvin is suspicious. He says Bigsby’s records were
too squeaky clean. Irvin’s still digging. If there’s something to
find, he will find it. Believe me.”

“See, Sin? This is the shit rich people have
to resort to. We don’t know the meaning of trust because everyone
has a side game. At least with Core, he’s keeping it real.”

I shot Jade a warning stare. “Shut up.”

She shrugged. “Don’t shoot the
messenger.”

“What’s going on with you two?” Ariana
looked at me and then Jade.

Jade nodded in my direction.

I sipped my champagne, avoiding eye contact
with Ariana.

“Sin?” Ariana inquired.

I sheepishly looked at her.

She pursed her lips. “Jade?”

Jade pointedly looked at me and whispered
loudly, “She wants to have sex with a banging hot billionaire.”

I gave her the one-finger salute. “I hate
you so much right now.”

Jade blew me a kiss.

Ariana swatted at Jade. “Leave her
alone.”

“Hello? I’m trying to help,” Jade
responded.

I frowned. “So annoying.”

Ariana patted my hand. “I know, sweetie. She
can be like that piece of corn you can’t quite get out of your
teeth. Annoying.” Ariana smiled sweetly, too sweetly, at Jade.

“I love you too, Mom,” Jade mumbled under
her breath.

Ariana eyed me. “Now are you going to tell
me who’s the lucky man and why you look so pissed off about
him?”

“I’m angrier at myself.” I had to take
responsibility for my actions. I hadn’t looked at the fine print on
the contract. It was a total idiot move. “Stupidly, I signed a
business deal with the devil, giving him my soul and ninety-seven
percent control of my business in exchange for financing,” I
blurted out in one breath.

Ariana sat straight up, spilling her
champagne. “Ninety-seven percent? Who’s the lucky devil?”

“Core McKay,” I responded.

She shot me an incredulous stare.
“Billionaire Core McKay?”

“Yep, that’s the devil incarnate.”

Ariana scowled. “If you needed financing,
why didn’t you come to Jade or me for the money?”

“Don’t blame her, Mom. She
couldn’t borrow the
money from me because my assets were
tied up in my indie movie project.”

Ariana pursed her lips. “Okay. What about
me?”

I sighed heavily. “I love you, but I can’t
go running to you and Jade every time I have money problems.” I
grabbed her hand when I saw the flash of sadness in her eyes. “I
wanted to do this on my own.”

She squeezed my hand back. “You’re not on
your own. You’re like my daughter, and if I can help, I’ll do it,
no questions asked.” She playfully nudged me with her elbow. “But I
get it. You want to be independent. There’s nothing wrong with
that, but be independent
and
smart.”

I leaned my head on her shoulder. I loved
Ariana because she was beautiful inside and out.

When Dad died and Mom disowned me, Ariana
had taken me into her family, treating me like I was her daughter.
Yes, I knew Ariana would have loaned me the money, but that was a
line I would never cross. Family and business did not mix. I’d
learned that the hard way with Grace.

“I had it under control—or at least I
thought I did.”

Ariana and Jade scowled at me.

“Okay. Fine. I’m stubborn and irrational. I
know this. I’m paying for my flaws right now.”

I kissed Ariana’s cheek, and that seemed to
pacify her.

“Next time I get into a jam, I’ll at least
call you to get advice before I proceed.”

Ariana hugged me. “See? That wasn’t so
hard.” She sat back, settling in like she had nothing but time.

My eyes widened. “Oh, no, you don’t. Can you
please get in there and get dressed?”

She smiled, putting up her hands. “Okay, I’m
going.” She grabbed her glass. “Which room?”

I pointed to the last dressing room on the
left, and she happily swayed off.

Jade slid off the couch and stood on wobbly
legs, most likely from way too much champagne. “I’ve got to get out
of here. I have a hair appointment,” she said before rushing over
to the dressing room.

***

Hours later, I was elated to have some peace
and quiet. Jade and Ariana had already left, and Erika was getting
dressed. This allowed me to sit on the couch, sipping the last of
the champagne, while finishing up business.

Erika came out, fully dressed in her street
clothes. Smiling at me, she grabbed her bag and handed over a
check.

I gave her a questioning look. “This isn’t
the price we agreed on. You overpaid by three thousand dollars. I
can’t take it.”

She waved away my objection. “It’s for all
your help and for rearranging your schedule to make my gown for
tomorrow night.” She shrewdly looked at me. “I hope you don’t get
offended, but I overheard your conversation with Jade and Ariana
about your contract issues.”

“I’m not remotely close to giving up
designing for a job at a fast-food restaurant.”

She smiled. “I know, but money means
nothing, and if I can help in any way, I will. It sounds like you
need help and fast,” Erika drawled. “I have an excellent attorney
whom I trust implicitly—Mitch Fillion, my husband.”

My eyes widened.
How did I not know she
was married to him?

Erika dug into her ridiculously expensive
designer bag before passing me a business card. “He’s the best damn
attorney in New York City, if I do say so myself.”

I eyed her. “You’re married to Mitch
Fillion?”

“Recently married. We’re still newlyweds.”
She waved her fingers, displaying the sparkling large diamond
engagement ring coupled with the diamond-encrusted wedding band.
“I’m wife number two.” She pursed her lips. “Wait, is it number
three?” She laughed huskily. “Shit, it doesn’t matter because that
man is a genius in the bedroom.” She shivered deliciously.

Why do my clients insist on over
sharing?

Most people would be surprised at how much
personal information my rich and elite clients shared with me. From
the benign tidbits about who just got cosmetic surgery and butt
implants to steamy shit like who was fucking whose husband to
lovers fucking lovers to who was caught at The McKay Club in the
private kink room to wives fucking employees to husbands fucking
butlers and threesomes and foursomes—it was all one big fuckfest in
the world of the rich and privileged. None of the gossip I really
cared about, but with all the gossip, I could make a shitload of
money by writing a scandalous tell-all book that would cause
fucking chaos.

I shook my head and said, “Thanks, but no
thanks. There is no way I’m calling him.”

Her eyes widened. “Why?”

I swallowed over the pain and embarrassment,
which still stung to this day. “Because his son Kyle is my old high
school boyfriend and a prick. Frankly speaking, the apple doesn’t
fall too far from the tree.”

Erika’s face tensed. “Kyle really hurt you.”
She reached out and grabbed my hand.

“It’s more how I made a fool out of myself
for him.”

Her hand tightened. Normally, I wasn’t a
touchy-feely woman with strangers, but her rich chocolate eyes that
reminded me so much of Dad’s combined with the warmth and comfort
of her touch surprisingly put me at ease.

“I know you blame Mitch, but believe me, he
had nothing to do with how that arrogant, spoiled prick turned out.
That’s all Mitch’s ex-wife’s doing.” She sighed. “That woman is a
real piece of work. She’s fucking nutty.” Erika quickly pulled her
hand away as if she’d just realized she was still clutching mine.
“Please just call Mitch. He’s not like you think he is. He’s a good
man. Plus, he’s the best damn attorney in New York City.”

Maybe that was what I needed. A devious,
ruthless fuck would be necessary to get me out of the contract with
McKay.

I shoved the card into my handbag. “I’ll
think about it.”

“Wise decision. Sometimes, we have to align
ourselves with people who will help us get to our ultimate goal,
and there’s no shame in that.” She winked at me before walking
away. “See you tomorrow night.”

I paced back and forth, my mind spinning. I
stopped and stared at his business card.
How bad can he be if
he’s married to a woman like Erika?

My mind spun around the fact that my life
had turned full circle. I was seeking help from the man whose son
had destroyed my self-confidence for years. I knew I shouldn’t lump
all assholes together, but it was hard not to.

I heavily blew out before quickly tapping
out the phone number shown on the card.

“Mitch Fillion,” he clipped out.

I licked my lips, which had gone desert dry.
“Hello, Mr. Fillion. My name is Sinthia Michaels. I was referred to
you by Erika.”

I was a little relieved when his voice held
a softer edge as he said, “How can I help you?”

“I have a business issue. I need help with a
contract.”

“You need me to look over a contract?”

I wiped my now sweaty palm over the leg of
my jeans. “No. I need you to help me break it.”

“Who is the contract with?”

I exhaled slowly. “MK Partners.”

The silence on the line lasted so long that
I thought our call had gotten disconnected.

“Hello?” I asked.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Ms.
Michaels, but Mr. McKay has me on retainer.”

I squeezed my eyes shut.
Shit.

“Well, this is awkward,” I mumbled while my
mind whirled around one question.
Will Fillion tell McKay I
called him about breaking our contract?

My fists clenched.

There was no doubt in my mind the answer to
that was yes.
Damn! McKay is going to be fucking pissed.

He didn’t seem like a man who would take
kindly to the fact that I was trying to outmaneuver him.

“Since my wife referred you to me, she must
hold you in high regard, so I can recommend an excellent attorney
who might be able to help you.”

“Sure. Thank you.” I went over to my
workstation, grabbed a notepad, and scribbled the name and number
he gave me. “Thank you, Mr. Fillion,” I said before clicking
off.

Jesus. I am so screwed.

***

Dressed and sitting on the arm of my
loveseat, I swirled the wine in the glass as I stared at the clock.
Jade was late again. I was already disgruntled about agreeing to go
to this ridiculous gala in honor of the one man, Bigsby Calhoune,
whom I did not intend to vote for as mayor. But I’d agreed to be
Jade’s plus-one, and I didn’t renege on promises to friends, no
matter how badly I wanted to.

My cell rang. It was a private number.
“Hello?” I answered.

No one responded, so I hung up.

The cell rang again with a private number. I
said, “Hello?”

Nothing.

“Who the fuck is this?”

Heavy breathing.

“Fuck off, pervert.” I hung up.

The doorbell rang. I walked toward it.
Peering through the peephole, I saw Jade standing on my stairs,
looking annoyed but strikingly beautiful. Opening the door, I
stared at her features highlighted with smoky eye shadow, a smidge
of blush, and a slick touch of rose-pink lip gloss. Her nails,
painted a bright shade of red, tapped against the doorframe.

“You’re late,” I snapped.

She held up her hand. “Don’t even start with
getting all anal about me being late,” she responded while crossing
the threshold.

I slammed the door behind her.

Rudely, she snatched my glass of wine out of
my hand and took a sip.

“Uh, you take my Jesus juice without so much
as a hello?” I asked.

“I’m sorry.” She kissed my cheek before
guzzling more of the wine. “I swear, this gala is going to be the
death of me.” She swallowed another gulp of wine. “I lost precious
brain cells while mediating another argument between my mother and
Cate over the fact that Mom and I refuse to take part in the
special photo op Bigsby arranged at the gala.”

I strolled over to the kitchen, grabbed
another glass, and poured wine into it. “Sounds like rich people’s
drama,” I said in a singsong voice.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. People are dying of
hunger while my family’s number one concern is with whom we will or
will not take a photo. Trifling but true.” Jade drained her glass
and stared at me. “On a lighter note, you look absolutely gorgeous,
Sin.”

I spun around, showing off the backless part
of the sleeveless beaded gown with a revealing plunging neckline
that barely hid my belly button. The only thing keeping my full
breasts from falling out was the discreet beaded hook right below
each. I twerked my ass, calling attention to the back of the gown
that was cut low to show off my back tattoos.

I turned around to face her and asked, “So
what do you think?”

“First, did you just twerk? I think you’ve
been watching way too many music videos.” Jade’s lips curled up
into a smile. “Second, wow, I love the vintage vibe of your gown.
How you’ve managed to pull off a look that’s elegant and includes a
little butt crack is beyond me.” She tapped her bottom lip. “But
you’re missing something. Don’t you have some vintage jewelry to
wear?”

“My diamond cuff bracelet. I could throw
that on.”

She frowned. “No. Not retro enough. Wait. I
got it. Remember that Victorian-looking silver bracelet your father
gave you for your birthday? Wear it.”

My heart thudded. “Yeah, um…” I anxiously
licked my lips. “I don’t want to wear it. Way too many sad
memories.” It was stupid and pathetic, but I’d compartmentalized
all my memories of Dad years ago, stowing them into a trunk I’d
shoved into my guest bedroom. Out of sight and out of mind was my
goal.