Beneath These Lies (11 page)

A taste. I’d only had a taste of her, and it wasn’t nearly enough. I knew it was a bad idea, but since when did I care? I’d had plenty. Somehow, I was still breathing. Against all odds and shit.

A customer walked into Noble Art and my little duchess rose from her seat, a smile spreading across her face. Not the forced and fake kind either. It was real, genuine, and I liked the way her eyes lit up with excitement. The mercenary side of me said it was because she was about to make some fat cash when she sold something to the poor fuck, but the other part wondered if she was really just that happy.

Happy
. I didn’t remember what that was like. I’d just been existing, day to day, wondering which bullet might end me. A rival gang’s or a cop’s. Didn’t matter where the shot came from, because either would snatch me from this life and toss me into the next.

I needed to walk away from where I stood before I did something stupid, like go inside and drop some freshly laundered cash on a piece of art I didn’t need, didn’t want, and didn’t fucking understand—all for the chance to see her light up like that. Would she smile at me? Nah. I’d probably get her glare. But at least that would be better than the fake smile. Fuck the fake smile.

I wanted real.

I wanted her.

Valentina smiled again at her customer as I pushed away from the door frame I was leaning against. Something caught her eye and she froze, her gaze locking on me.

I raised my chin in her direction before melting into the crowd without looking back. I had work to do.

I
COULDN’T STOP THINKING ABOUT
it. The kiss. The one that had me on edge every moment of the day. I stuttered midsentence every time the memory would sneak into my head. How dare he?
I bet he’d dare more
, my subconscious would purr. Calling myself distracted would be the understatement of the century. Every time the door opened, I practically jumped out of my skin, expecting to see Rix walking in.

What would I do if I saw him? I had no idea. But if I didn’t see him, I knew I had no choice but to march myself right up to his doorstep and demand an update on Trinity, and get my painting back.

The door opened again, and I tensed before spinning around. Not Rix. No, it was the other man taking up space in my thoughts—Rhett Hennessy.

His grin was quick, and I was reminded how much I’d enjoyed dinner with him last night. There had been camaraderie I hadn’t felt in a long time, and yet I had no idea what to do about it. Or anything else going on in my life.

It was official. I was clueless about this adulting thing when it came to my personal life. And since when did I even
have
a personal life? I’d been the original
all work and no play
girl for the last decade. That’s how I’d managed to keep my gallery from hovering in the red long enough to drain my trust fund and instead fought tooth and nail to make it a success. I did not give up. And . . . that still gave me no clue as to how to deal with my present situation. Which was standing and looking at me, waiting for me to respond.

Crap
. Had he said hello while I was buried in my thoughts?

“Am I interrupting?” Rhett asked.

I shook my head, telling myself to get back in the game, and rose from my desk. “Not at all. I was just running through my schedule for this afternoon.”

“Busy day?”

“Busy enough, but I like it that way. The alternative would be too boring.”

“Understandable. I didn’t decide to go the cop route because I thought it’d be boring either.”

His comment about his brother being killed in the line of duty came back to me from our conversation the night before. “Definitely not boring, I’d assume.”

Rhett ditched the small talk almost as soon as he started with it. “You know why I’m here?”

For a flash of a moment, I wondered if he was here because of last night—the part where he’d dropped me off at my house and there had been a known gang member waiting for me inside.

But he didn’t know anything about that. Right?

No, Valentina, of course he doesn’t
.

“That date you said you were taking me on?”

Hennessy nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’m taking you out on a proper date, one that ends with my lips somewhere other than your forehead.”

My eyes widened as, obviously, all the possibilities of where his lips could end up flipped through my brain.

Rhett must have read my surprise because his eyebrow went up before a smile slid over his face. A moment of silence hung between us.

“Where exactly were you picturing my lips just now?”

I hadn’t expected him to go the bold route, but I couldn’t lie about my body reacting to it. It did. The heat reflected in his gaze filled me, but something held me back from responding in kind.
Something?
Try
someone
.

“I’m not that kind of girl, Detective Hennessy. Especially not on a first real date.”

The heat stayed firmly in his gaze, not dimming at all. “I guess we’ll see where the night takes us. You can show me exactly what kind of woman you are, because you’re definitely no girl, Valentina. Seven o’clock. Tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at your house.”

Swallowing and still trying to keep up with this different version of Rhett Hennessy than I was used to, I nodded. “Okay.”

“Have a great afternoon, Valentina.”

He turned and walked out of my gallery, leaving me standing in the middle of the room, not sure why I couldn’t come up with a more coherent answer than
okay
.

A
COP, A GANG LEADER,
and the daughter of a judge. It sounded like the punch line of a joke should come next, but instead it was my life.

I had a date with a cop tomorrow night, I was waiting to hear from a gang leader, and my father, the judge, had invited me over for a family dinner tonight.

I hadn’t heard from Rix and hadn’t caught another glimpse of him on the street, despite keeping a close eye on it all day. I wanted my update about Trinity. I wanted to demand he get her back right now and quit screwing around. I didn’t care what his reasons were, and I didn’t understand why he hadn’t already done it.

When I let myself into my house, I turned on all the lights and checked every room. No sign of him.

Was I hoping he would be here? I’d never admit that, even to myself.

In my studio, my most recent paintings were all still in place. I thought about moving them out of sight, but dinner with the parents meant I couldn’t be late. I quickly changed out of my gallery skirt and blouse and into a white knit dress and gold sandals.

I walked to my parents’ house, rather than driving, because it was only six blocks away, and that meant I could drink a few glasses of whatever excellent red my father decided to choose for tonight. Because tonight I needed something to take the edge off or I’d lose my mind.

Trinity had been scheduled to work today, and knowing she was being held somewhere by some gangbangers had gutted me every time I’d looked around the room and expected to see her cheery smile and pink streak in her hair. But there was nothing I could do myself to get her back, and that helplessness ate at me. Hence the wine I’d be drinking tonight.

When I opened the front door of my parents’ house with my key, their dog greeted me first, as usual. Chaney was a ridiculously friendly golden doodle that could barely manage to keep her front paws on the ground because of her ridiculous friendliness.

“Hey, pup. Where’s your ball?”

She froze for a split second before running off in the direction of wherever her ball was hiding. Probably under the couch.

“Is that the sound of my baby girl?” my mother called from the kitchen. She bustled out, still drying her hands on a dish towel. “You’re here! I’m so glad! I haven’t seen you all week.” She didn’t slow until I was caught up in her arms for the kind of hug only my mother could give. Like it had been five years since she’d seen me rather than five days.

“I know, I know. I’ve been busy trying to keep up with the gallery. Lots of new business lately.” I wasn’t lying; that was the truth. But my mother didn’t need to know about the other things keeping me busy.

“You’re working so hard lately. You really need to take some time and enjoy yourself.”

“You know she won’t, Jo.” My father came out of the kitchen, wearing an apron that read K
ISS THE
M
ASTER
G
RILLER
. “She’s too much like her old man. All work and no play. At least until he met his better half.”

My parents hadn’t gotten married until their early thirties and had me a couple of years later. My father loved to talk about the years he spent chained to his desk as a lowly assistant district attorney before the magnificence that was my mother opened his eyes to everything he was missing in life.

It was adorable. Until he dragged her away to kiss her in a way that would “scandalize the child.” Just like I’d developed a decent case of envy when it came to Yve banishing her demons and allowing herself to be swept off her feet by Lucas Titan, I had always been envious of what my parents shared. It was real. Solid. Permanent. If you tried to tell my dad that the sun rose and set anywhere other than directly over my mother, he’d probably give you a stern lecture on how not to be a moron.

Love. It was a thing that other people experienced, and I was wondering if I ever would. I’d had zero prospect of it on the horizon, and now, against my better judgment, I seemed to be drawn in two separate directions.

I’m fucking fascinated with you
, Rix had said. But you could be fascinated with a duck-billed platypus.

I’ve wanted to flirt with you for years, Valentina, but you weren’t ready. I think you’re ready now
. Rhett was right; I was ready. Ready to start living again.

“See, she’s probably spacing out right now thinking of something she forgot to do before she left the gallery.”

My dad’s voice pierced through my swirling thoughts. Thoughts better left alone.

“Sorry,” I said, just in time for Chaney to come running back with her ball. “It has been a crazy few days.”

“That’s why you need to make time for things other than work,” my mother said.

I knew she wanted to say
Go on a date, have fun
, but given the circumstances, she never would, and I couldn’t miss the flash of pain on her face when she held back the words. I hated that they both still saw me as their daughter who’d been raped. I wasn’t a victim anymore, but the sympathetic looks hadn’t changed in ten years. How would I ever get them to see me as I was today rather than their baby girl who’d been violated?

Her pained look tightened the corners of her mouth, and there wasn’t much I wouldn’t say to erase it. And that was why I opened my big fat mouth.

“I am making time for things other than work. I sorta went on a date last night. And I have another tomorrow.”

Both my parents stilled and looked at me. “A date? Really?”

It was proof of how little I told them about that aspect of my life and how little I dated. There had been guys here and there I’d seen casually, but no one I would have ever mentioned to my parents. For them, this news was almost groundbreaking. And maybe it would finally help me shed the victim image in their eyes.

“Who’s the lucky man?” The question came from my father.

Well, crap. Of course they’d want details.

“He’s a cop. NOPD.”

This grabbed my father’s attention even more. He knew
lots
of cops. “Does he have a name?”

“Rhett Hennessy. Detective Rhett Hennessy.”

Both my parents, but especially my father, had been very involved in my case, and I knew he’d recognize the name. I didn’t know what kind of reaction I’d get, however.

“Good man. I’ve always liked him. He’s young, but that works in his favor. He’s got drive. Great cop. Not a bad choice.”

My mother glanced at my father before faux whispering, “And he’s handsome in that rough, primal sort of way. Good choice, for sure.”

My father raised an eyebrow at my mother. “I’ll show you handsome in a rough, primal sort of way.” He growled and stepped toward her.