Mendacious (17 page)

I just ignore her.

“Alex.” I hear Libby’s voice and close my eyes. “Alex, can you hear me?” She cups my cheeks and tilts my face from the floor. “Breathe. Take deep breaths.”

I shake my head. “L-Leave me,” I choke, shrugging from her touch and heading for my grandmother’s door. I push it open and slide inside, closing it firmly behind me.

I don’t look at the bed.

My eyes turn to the cabinet next to the door and I pick-up the photo of mine and Libby’s wedding day. It brings back a flood of memories.

The strapless ivory wedding gown.

The expensive pearls from my grandmother.

She was an angel.

My
angel.

I clutch the photo to my chest and slowly wander over to the seat next to the bed. My grandmother’s eyes are closed and they’ve placed her hands delicately in her lap. She is just asleep, like normal.

“I’m sorry,” I sigh, bowing my head and rubbing my fingers over the soft skin of her hands. “I should have worked harder. I know you think I failed with her.”

“This isn’t the right time,” Libby whispers, closing the door and coming to sit beside me.

Her eyes are puffy and smudged with mascara, but she still looks beautiful. She dabs with a tissue under her eye and puts her hand over mine.

“I loved Margaret very much. If I’d have known what was going on ...” She trails off when she spots the picture I’m holding.

My breath catches.

I try and gauge her reaction, but she’s wearing a masked veil of strength, guarding her true feelings from my eyes.

“Can I see it?” Libby takes the photo and turns away to shield her face, but it doesn’t stop the sounds I hear. The torrent of tears and the shaking of her shoulders give her away in an instant.

“Libby—”

“I can’t do this. Alex, I have to leave.” She stands abruptly, drops the picture on the bed, and then flees from the room without a backward glance.

I’m left alone.

Again.

It has been two and a half weeks since my grandmother passed away, and I’m trying to stick by my family for all of our sakes. My mother is an emotional wreck, my sister has closed herself off from the world, and I’m left trying to rebuild the foundation of our family.

The funeral was a couple of days ago. It was the most beautiful service my money could buy and I wouldn’t change a thing. The place was packed to the rafters with residents and staff from the nursing home. It turns out my Goopie was pretty popular. And I heard from Alice that Libby even came for the service, but by the time I was able to make the rounds and speak to the guests, it seems she had already left.

Go figure.

“Alex? Do you want some juice?” Alice pokes her head round the door of my office and shows me a glass of orange that looks more than appealing for my parched throat.

“I’d love some, please.”

I smile when she puts it down on a coaster in front of me. “You still have your photo?” she asks, pointing at the wedding frame I took from my grandmother’s room.

She goes to pick it up, but I grab the photo before she has chance and throw it in a drawer in my desk. “It’s nothing,” I murmur with a shrug. “Just something I took from Goopie’s room.”

“Okay,” she says quietly. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. Me and mum are gonna watch a film.” She closes the door and leaves me to answer my work e-mails.

I’ve had my sister and mother living with me for the last two weeks, so I can keep an eye on them both. But as a result of that, my work has suffered—a lot. Thankfully, Sean and Benedict have been picking up my slack, but it’s not good enough. I don’t ever fall behind with anything.

And then there is the business with Libby and the company. Her evil shit of a brother is still dicking around which bothers me, but I haven’t had any incriminating evidence from Eyes. It seems Libby and Dale haven’t met face to face since the first photo taken, and it’s infuriating the hell out of me.

Damn.

I need to get a life.

She told me to my face that she hadn’t been involved in the little scheme, yet I can’t shake it from my mind. She had gotten so worked up over Goopie’s death and then seeing that picture of the two of us, so I’m not sure if it’s guilt or something else.

I’ve contacted her a couple of times to find out, but my calls haven’t been returned. The idea of accosting her again crosses my mind, but I’m not sure I could pull it off. No doubt she’s made every effort to not find herself alone. I mean, what with her psycho ex-husband stalking her life; I’d be worried too.

Ping.

My laptop beeps, alerting me to a new e-mail. I rub my fingers across the touchpad and open up the latest offerings from the man I call Eyes.

Surprisingly, there haven’t been any photos today, so I decided that either everyone’s dropped off the face of the earth, or I’m paying this bloke too much money to sit on his arse.

“What do we have today then?” I open the first of four photos and find my eyes drawn to a slender looking woman who has her back to the camera. She’s a petite little thing with long flowing blonde hair and a pretty little summer dress that is partially covered by a denim jacket. “Who is this?” I murmur, zooming in on the photo. She’s leaning against the open driver’s door of a compact Fiat 500 while Dale stands on the pavement a metre or so away.

Is this a girlfriend?

Impatiently, I click through the next two photos, hoping for a frontal or side shot, or anything that can lead me to the identity of this mysterious blonde.

I mean, Dale looks pretty fucking pleased, so he must have some sort of bond with her.

“Come on number four,” I plead, opening the final photo.

I enlarge it so the image fills my laptop screen. And when it does, my mouth gapes open in complete and utter fucking shock. My eyes blink animatedly while I try and process what’s blown-up.

“Impossible,” I whisper, fully taking in the sight of the petite blonde who is now behind the wheel of the car with a bright and toothy grin spread across her face. “Abso-fuckin’-lutely impossible.”

My phone vibrates on the desk, distracting me. The caller display shows Sean’s name which I answer eagerly, but I’m not the first to speak.

“Can you believe this?” he roars at me. “Can you
actually
believe this shit you’re seeing?” I pull the phone away from my ear and wince as he continues to rant. “Right under our bloody noses, Alex. How did we miss this?”

He’s right. I have no clue how the heck we managed to miss this almighty cock-up. But the more I think about it, the more I realise the puzzle pieces are beginning to fit into place. It all starts to become so much clearer.

“Are you in the car?” I ask, closing the lid to my laptop and stuffing it under my arm.

“I’m not far from you. Do you want me to come and pick you up?” Sean suggests when I get out of my seat and head for the door.

“I’ll be outside in ten minutes. See you then.” I shut off the call and stuff my phone in my pocket.

“Going somewhere?” Alice calls out, her eyes fixed on the theatre sized projection screen where I can see Love Actually playing again for the millionth time this week.

My mother turns and gives me a brittle smile. It’s a look that hurts, but know will improve over time. She’s still weak and struggling over my grandmother’s death, and has barely left my apartment except for funeral duties.

But I know it’s to be expected. After all, my grandmother was such a strong woman who played a huge role in our lives growing up. Most nights after school Alice and I would go to her house while our parents worked long hours. We built up this bond between us, and I owe a lot of my life skills to her. She taught me a great deal from a young age, and I will always feel indebted for her help when our father walked out all those years ago.

“I’ve just got to nip out. I won’t be long. Will you both be alright? Do you want me to grab something for dinner?” I flash my mother a reassuring smile, hoping to get some sort of reaction, but it doesn’t trigger anything. Her expression is still weak and vulnerable. “It’ll be alright,” I mouth over while Alice isn’t looking.

She closes her eyes and gives me a brief nod. “I know.”

Alice cranes her neck and looks between us. “What do you know? Tell me.”

“God, stop being so nosy,” I tease jokingly, sticking out my tongue and heading for the front door.

“Whatever, loser!” she hollers after me.

A smile hovers loosely on my lips. Despite the circumstances, I’ve actually enjoyed having my family so close. It has made me realise how much I’ve neglected them in a way, because I haven’t spent as much time with them as I probably should have. Especially my grandmother, but I can’t turn back the clock now. I always said they would be my top priority. Now it’s time for me to put that statement into action to make sure they always are.

You can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your family. Those words strike me right in the chest and hit me deep. I’m reminded of a canvas my mother has hanging in her living room, the words have taunted me for the last thirty years, having stared at them as a punishment growing up.

We are not perfect, but we are a family.

I hated that fucking picture as a child, but ironically I now get its importance. Which is why I’m determined to make things right.

~

Sean’s been wittering constantly to Benedict over the car’s Bluetooth system about the photos we received ever since he picked me up from my building. I’m zoning out every now and then, but that’s only because my anger is building.

“Are you going to fix this?” Benedict asks over the speaker in Sean’s car. “This is a big problem and it can’t be just swept away.”

I clench my teeth. “I know.”

“We are gonna fix it,” Sean reassures him. “Right, we are here, so we’ve got to go.” Killing the ignition, he cuts off the call and we both get out of the car and reach for our suit jackets hanging up in the back.

Dusting off my sleeves, I look to Sean. “You ready?”

He nods.

We both walk toward the office building and step through the main door. I have my laptop tucked under my arm still and I head straight for my office. We pass Kelly on our way in and she gives me my usual greeting and offering to get coffee, but I shake my head and tell her we are busy.

Sean closes the door when we walk into my office and crosses his arms over his chest. He doesn’t say anything while I log into my laptop and print off the four photos received and stuff them into a large brown envelope.

When I’m finished, I close the lid and move toward the door, but there is somebody lurking outside.

“Sean,” I mutter, nodding with my head to the figure.

He turns around and throws his head back with a sigh. “I’ll be in my office. Come see me beforehand.” He opens the door wide and reveals Jack.

“Come in and take a seat,” I say, rounding my desk.

Jack comes and takes a seat in front of me and hands me a sheet of paper. “We weren’t made aware of this until a few minutes ago. I need to know how you want me to handle this.”

Scanning over the report he has just given me, I see red. My pulse quickens as steam practically pours from every available orifice of my body.

“Is this a joke?” I snap. Throwing the paper down, I shoot out of my seat and head for the door. “Where is she?”

My heavy steps quicken as I head for Jack’s team of administrators on the far side of the office. They notice me barrelling my way over and immediately freeze. It isn’t very often I venture into the main office. It’s usually only ever the boardroom or my own desk.

“I want to see you in my office. Right now,” I snap, pointing my finger at Ivy.

My adrenaline is pumping tenfold at this point and I don’t give a shit about the gasps echoing around the bank of desks. This cheap, filthy, little lowlife needs to know who the boss is in this joint, and that she can’t fuck me over and expect me not to find out.

I turn and head back for my office, signalling above my head for Sean to follow, because I know he’s lurking around.

“Kelly, do not put any calls through to me,” I bark, flinging open the door so that it cracks against the plasterboard. The room shakes when I walk over to the window and slam my hands against the window sill.

“M-Mr. Lewis?” Ivy steps into my office with Sean and Jack a couple of seconds later with wide eyes. She has both men either side of her and seems confused at their pissed expressions. But this little act of denial isn’t going to wash with me. She is a liar. And I hate liars.

“I would offer you a seat, Ivy, but I’m afraid you won’t be staying long. Now, before I sack you, is there anything you want to tell me?” I’m offering her the chance to come clean here. It’s an opportunity to do the decent thing and confess. And I’m completely floored when she doesn’t accept the offer. Instead, she simply shrugs her shoulders like an insolent child and tries to feign ignorance of the whole situation.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she fires back, her attitude shifting. “Why am I being sacked?” She turns toward Jack and points her finger in his face. “He’s the pervert here. If anyone should be sacked, it’s him.”

My jaw starts to drop, but I recover quickly and compose myself. I’m amazed this is the same, timid, little Ivy who wouldn’t say shit to anyone. Now, I’m looking at her in a completely different light. She’s got some balls after all. It’s just a shame she fucked everything up and got involved with the wrong people before her potential had chance to shine through. I could’ve used somebody like her in the future for bigger projects.

Shame, hey?

Jack flushes crimson and stutters a response, “T-That is preposterous.”

I raise my hand. “That’s enough. This isn’t about Jack. It’s about you, Ivy.” I open the envelope and throw the four photographs on my desk. “Care to explain,
now
?”

With a smugness illuminating my face, I watch the colour drain from her cheeks. I’m going for the jugular with this.

I also throw down Jack’s report so it lands face up on the desk. “Still nothing?” I ask, tapping my fingers against my chin.

“W-Where? H-How did you get this?” She visibly trembles when she picks up a photograph. “You’ve been following me?”

Plucking the photo from her grasp, I shake my head. “No. We were following
him
. What is your involvement with Dale? Just friends? Fuck buddies?”

Ivy looks at me with disgust. “I’m not a whore.”

“So tell us,” I say, shrugging. “What’s your business with him aside from selling access to our clientele?”

“My career.” She rolls her eyes as if I’m actually asking her these questions. “He told me he’d mould and make me into something better than ...
this place
.”

Rolling my eyes, I tut. “So he promised you the world on a plate if you helped him screw me over? Well, more fool you for agreeing to it.”

“He pays me a lot more,
and
he’s promised me a better career. What have you offered since I started? Nothing. Just loads of grief.”