A Little Bit of Truth (Little Bits) (28 page)

“I won’t leave it.”

My defenses spark like a stone crashing against stone, “It’s none of your fucking business.”

“You’re my business,” he looks affronted. I don’t care.

I also don’t respond.

“Talk to me.”

I can play the ignorance game for a long, long, long time. I’m the champion at it according to my friends. So I look straight through him and keep my mouth closed.

“Marie,” he warns and rests his elbows on my thighs. “I care about you. You’re my friend. Let me help you deal with this.”

Huh. What was that noise? I could have sworn I heard talking… nope. Nothing. (Whistle.)

“Gah. I won’t drop this. I’ll give it a rest for now but I won’t forget this conversation.”

Still nothing. I swear my hearing is either bad or… oh right. I’m being ignorant!

“Stubborn woman.”

Score one to Marie.

 

 

Chapter Twenty

Maya’s Crafty Ways

Jacob

“You know where everything is, Mason should be back soon.”
This is all Marie says to me before vanishing into her office and closing the door behind her. She’s stubborn. So fucking stubborn.

The entire flight, then the journey from the airport to her place
, she’s ignored me. How the hell she managed it I have no idea (what with her having a loud mouth on her) but she did and it’s pissing me off. If I have to suffer her silence accompanied by her blank gaze for a moment longer I will… well I haven’t decided what it is I’ll do yet but it’s not good.

The door opens
twenty minutes later and I hear Mason call out for his sister before placing a handful of grocery bags in the kitchen. He steps into the room, glares at me, I glare back.

“What are
you
doing here?” he asks with narrowed eyes and venom in his tone.

“Oh, you know
, the usual? Defiling your sister for my own gain,” I smirk at him when his fists clench and his face turns red. “Oops. Did I say that out loud?”

With a battle cry worthy of
‘Braveheart’, Mason charges at me, leaps over the couch and lands on the ground with a slam when I step out of the way at the last minute.

“What in hell is going on?” Marie shouts, bursting through her study door. “Mason?”

“He beat me Marie, I just walked in and he started wailing on me,” The lying little cunt.

“Dude, you’re army and you couldn’t handle one celebrity?” Marie snorts. “If this is true which I think it isn’t, I’d pay good money to see Jacob put you on your ass.”

I hold my hand up like a child wanting to answer a question in class, “I did technically put him on his ass.”

Marie glares at me, it’s kind of scary,
“You hit my brother?”

“Umm…”

Mason feigns sadness, “Yeah, it really hurt too.”

“You’re a prick,” I sneer at him as Marie rounds the couch, making me slowly back away. “He lunged at me. I moved. He fell.”

Without taking her eyes off me she asks her brother (who’s still on the ground by her feet) “This true Mace?”

“Possibly. Ouch, what was that for?” He rubs his hand where she
just stomped on his finger. Snigger. “Crazy bitch.” Her eyes shoot daggers at him, my snigger continues sniggering. “Who I love with all of my childish, untamable heart.”

“Right, stop fighting, Jacob is staying until he wants to leave. He’ll have the couch. Be nice.”

She leaves the room and we both dive for the remote. This is going to be a long few weeks.

 

 

******

 

I am so lonely, ever so lonely,
dum da be dooby, ALL ON MY OWN OOOOH!

Yeah, this couch may be large and plush but it’s cold and it’s lonely and it sucks. I’m bored, I’m sleepy and I’m feeling like a jerk for hurting Marie. She’s avoided me all night, not including when we ate dinner
but even then she only answered with hums and grunts and the occasional yes or no. I’ll talk to her in the morning when I wake up.

 

Unfortunately due to my lack of sleep I don’t wake up until eleven.

Fortunately breakfast is already made and Mason has already left. So I share an awkward and silent breakfast with an awkward and silent Marie.

“I’m taking you out tonight,” I state, my tone showing that there will be no budging from this request. “We have shit to talk about.”

“So talk now.”

“I can’t, I have to meet with my agent in twenty minutes, I won’t be home until four. Be ready at five.”

“Okay,” she responds with a shrug and drains the last of her coffee. “I’ve got to go and get ready.”

“Going anywhere nice?” I tap my fingers on the table top, she stares at them as she replies, “Out for lunch.” Now I’m interested, “With who?”

And then she lies, “With my dad.”

“Your dad huh?”

“Why do you say it like that?” She snaps, her irritation v
isible in those gorgeous blues.

“I’m not saying it like anything,” I snap back and carry my plate into the kitchen, Marie hot on my heels. “I’m getting a headache. I’ll see you later.”

“Right back at you buddy. And I can’t go out with you tonight. I have plans then too.”

Fuck. “With who?”

“None of your business. Look him up in the dictionary.” And her bedroom door slams. Great.

Marie

Maya
:
Need you to do me a favor.

 

Marie
:
As long as it doesn’t run past five, I’ve got plans this eve.

 

My phone rings immediately, I answer. “What do you need?”

“Where’s he taking you?” she asks, sounding more excited than I’ve ever been about anything.

“Nowhere, I don’t have plans with Jacob tonight,” I laugh. “I’m meeting up with an old friend.”

Her tone turns accusatory, “A male friend?”

“A male friend who’s a friend and nothing but a friend.” I think.

“Hmm,” she goes silent. I tap my nails on the counter. “And what’s the name of this male friend who’s nothing but a friend?”

“Maya, what favor do you need?” I divert, hoping she’ll get off my back where my nonexistent relationship is concerned.

“Right,” she clears her throat and somebody starts speaking in the background. Definitely male. “Actually,” the word is dragged out. “I don’t think I need that favor anymore.”

Like I’m falling for that, “And why’s that?”

“Because I said so,” her voice is high and proper, I imagine her nose to be in the air and her lips pouting. “It’s not important.”

“Maya,” male voice again. Male voice that doesn’t belong to James.

“Just ask.”
I don’t have time for games.

“Okay, okay,” Maya sighs. “Well, I need you to go into town with Joseph.”

“And why’s that?”

“He needs a suit fitting.”

“And why can’t he go alone?” Now my voice sounds accusatory, as well as my thoughts. What’s she playing at?

“Because he’s never worn high end clothes and doesn’t know where to start, I can’t, I’m fully booked and he needs a suit by tomorrow.”

I laugh incredulously, “And you can’t just tell him where to go?”

“Umm…” There’s a rustling sound and then I hear whispering. “No.”
I’m not buying it.

“Okay then,” I drag this word out.

“Could you please do me this one favor? Please?” More whispering. What the fuck?

Although Joseph looks like a guy I wouldn’t mind staring at for a few hours, “Yeah, sure. Whatever, but I’m getting new shoes, on your card.”

“Done,” and then the line goes dead and I have no idea when I’m supposed to be there. Or if the office is where we’re meeting. I also have no idea why the hell I’m supposed to be helping this guy go suit shopping but if it gets me the new eight hundred dollar shoes I want and matching purse (which Maya doesn’t need to know about) then who am I to complain? Suit shopping with a gorgeous guy for a couple of hours in return for something I’ve wanted for ages. Why not?

So I send a quick text to my dad telling him I’ll meet him at two instead of twelve. He responds with OK and a smiley face. Brilliant. Time to go shopping.

New shoes.

Yay.

Smiley face.

Jacob

This is unnecessary, I hate shopping. Unfortunately, it’s needed according to Kerry my agent slash slave driver. She states that I only have limited clothing with me and I can’t be seen in a place like, wherever the hell it is I’m going, in anything less than a ridiculously priced suit. Christ I need a beer. So many people fawning over me, I feel like purchasing a fly swatter and bashing them over the head with it.

“This color?” “
Oooh, no this goes better with his eyes.” “Kerry said no navy, it makes his skin look yellow!”

Christ. Leave me alone.
And my skin does not look yellow! It’s like cinnamon. CINNAMON. Marie told me so.

Speaking of Marie, a
ringing laugh, one I know extremely fucking well, can be heard from the next room.

 

Marie

 

I have to admit, this Joseph guy is not only stunning but he is also charming and funny. His smile is white and not the slightest bit crooked. Damn, he’s sex on a stick. He oozes so much confidence and charm, it’s not even funny.

I met him an hour ago when he picked me up from my place. We then grabbed a quick lunch and coffee, before meeting here in the best store in the city.

“She doesn’t like this one no?” and fuck me, he has an Italian accent! I’ve died and gone to heaven, if heaven were a fitting room and angels were men in suits with measuring tapes tucked in their pockets and if god was this man before me. This Italian beauty.

“No,” I cringe at the yellow tie. He waves it away.

Although Jacob is a lot better looking than this guy, sure, he’s no Italian stallion. But he is a fucking stallion and a beautiful one at that. Not that I’m making comparisons or anything.

A woman steps into the room with a shoebox in her hands. I take it eagerly and smile when she opens the lid.

With a squeal of delight I tug the heels from their confines and place them on the ground. Before I can move, the Italian Stallion, in nothing but boxers and a wife beater, as is appropriate to wear during a suit fitting, kneels before me and with a husky, accented voice he says, “Allow me.”

I fan my face with the shoebox lid.

He lifts my shin and slowly slides my boot off and fluffy sock. Then he does the same to my other foot.

I watch his face as he concentrates and slowly slides the first heel onto my foot before lifting it and tilting it to admire the sparkling, expensive beauty.

“Perfect,” he whispers and I fan my face with the lid even faster.

“If I’d known you were going to be here at the same time as me I would have booked a table next door,” Uh-oh.

I blink and decide I’ve definitely gone to heaven. Jacob is here.

Okay maybe not heaven because I’ve just figured out he looks pissed. No, not pissed. Angry. He looks extremely fucking angry.

“Isn’t this guy a little young to be
your dad
?” His last two words drip with sarcasm. He doesn’t look at me, he stares at Joseph intensely. Intensely being so damn intense, I shrink in my seat a little for Joseph. Although Joseph only looks amused as they weigh each other up. Almost like Jacob isn’t even competition. Me being the prize.

Is it wrong that I’m enjoying this a little bit?

Probably.

Oh well.

Standing slowly, Joseph holds out his hand, “Joseph Lombardi. It’s a pleasure to meet you…” He trails off as if asking for a name. Yeah right, as if he doesn’t know Jacob’s name!

“Joseph… as in Maya’s assistant?” Jacob scoffs and looks at me open mouthed. “Really Marie? Really? Her assistant? Haven’t you already gone through half the building?”

My mouth drops open, that hurt a little! “I’ve only been with two guys from Maya’s workplace!” Or was it three? Does her ex-client count? He was her client at the time but he didn’t work for her, technically. So maybe four because there was that other guy who… so not the point!

“So you thought you’d add one more,” he shakes his head as if disgusted. “And I thought I was bad.” Then he turns to Joseph as I attempt to get my head together and come back with a snide remark that will knock him down a peg. “She fuck you yet?”

“Oh boy,” I say with a small shake of my head. “This just got complicated. Again.”

“Too right it did.” Jacob bites out and then my foot is being yanked up. I yelp as my back is dragged down the loveseat and Jacob pulls my new shoe off my foot. He throws it onto the box without concern.

Other books

Death in Saratoga Springs by Charles O'Brien
LuckySilver by Clare Murray
As I Lay Dying by Faulkner, William
Double The Risk by Samantha Cayto
Dance With Me by Kristin Leigh
Hieroglyphs by Penelope Wilson
Deep Storm by Lincoln Child
Afterbirth by Belinda Frisch