Believing Lies (2 page)

With a huff, my mother said, “I just remembered that Monica has another appointment to get to. Isn’t that right, Monica? We really should head out.”

Monica quickly caught on to the thinly veiled lie. “Why yes, Mrs. Trudeau, I think we have gone over everything we needed to cover today.” Turning to me, she said, “Sienna, does two o’clock tomorrow still work for you to meet at the bakery for the cake testing?”

“Yes, thank you. Two o’clock is good for me.”

“Well, what a coincidence,” Sophie chimed in. “I just so happen to be free at that time too. How great is that, Aunt Clarice?”

My mother’s voice was cold, despite the warm smile she wore. “It will be our pleasure to have you join us, of course. We’ll see you girls then.” She grabbed her purse and turned to leave. I felt the stress slowly leaving my body with every step she took toward the door. Just as I was in the home stretch, she stopped and turned back around. “Sienna, don’t be late. You know I hate it when you’re late. I want to go to the florist straight afterwards, so be prepared for a long day. And don’t forget to show Trenton the wedding binders when he gets home tonight. I’ll leave them on the table.” She turned and left, Monica following at her heels.

As soon as the door closed, Sophie and I went into the living room, where I dropped to the couch and repeatedly hit my head with a throw pillow. With one long, muffled scream into the pillow, I finally let my arms drop.

Sophie pushed my legs over and plopped down next to me, knocking the pillow to the floor. “Oh my God, Sienna! How did you spend an entire afternoon kissing your mom’s ass? You seriously need to tell her to screw off. Why did she make you hire a wedding planner if she’s going to make you be part of every tiny decision? I thought the point of having a wedding planner was that they, gee, I don’t know, plan the wedding.”

“I know, right? And why does she think Trenton will want to look at those binders. He doesn’t want any part in planning the wedding, and Mother knows that. Anyway, can we please go get a drink and a burger?”

“Will you change your clothes first? You look like a Stepford wife. Cross that out. You look like your mother.”

It was meant as an insult, but since my mother was a very beautiful woman, it was kind of a compliment too. I was wearing a black tapered skirt that hung to my knees, a cream colored blouse, and a string of pearls. It wasn’t my wardrobe of choice, but it was called for today. “Mother made me have breakfast at the club,” I said, explaining my attire.

“Ah. I see.”

“I don’t feel like changing right now. I just want to get out of here. And after that pretentious garbage they serve at the club, I could really go for some good ol’ greasy fries.”

“Greasy food tonight and then cake tomorrow? You’re killing me. You know that, right? Not everyone has an abnormally crazy metabolism like you do.”

I playfully slapped her on the arm. “Stop being an idiot.”

Sophie was stunning and had an amazing body. At five foot nine, with long legs and big boobs, which she liked to keep on display in low-cut shirts, she could put a swimsuit model to shame. Paired with full lips, emerald eyes, and auburn-red hair falling in long, loose curls, she was more than a head turner. In the genetic lottery, I had to also admit that I made out fairly well. It wasn’t as if I was anywhere near the looker she was, but I had my own appeal. Like Sophie, I was slender, but my boobs were much smaller, and I preferred to keep them mostly
off
display. Unlike her vibrant-colored eyes and hair, I had pale crystal-blue eyes and light blond hair, which hung in waves. My lips were also fairly full, but mine usually had a light pink lip gloss on them, in contrast to Sophie’s blood-red lipstick. Not many people could pull off red lipstick successfully, but she could.

“Where should we eat?” I asked.

“I’ll let you choose the restaurant since your day has sucked donkey balls so far,” she oh-so-eloquently offered. “You need to drive though because Courtney dropped me off.”

“Why didn’t she come in?” I asked, puzzled. Courtney had been my dorm mate before I’d moved in with Trenton. I missed seeing her daily and was disappointed to know she had been so close and hadn’t come up to see me.

“I mentioned your mom was here,” she replied with a wink. “Not really, but that in itself would have been a pretty good reason.”
True
. “She’s going to visit her parents in Ohio until school starts again. She said to give you kisses.” It had totally slipped my mind that Courtney was going back home today. I was becoming a crappy friend. I needed to make sure we scheduled a girls’ night out as soon as she returned.

On our way out of the apartment, Sophie playfully smacked me on the butt and handed me my purse from the entryway table. She also handed me half of her shopping bags to help her carry to my car.

I begrudgingly took the bags. “Thanks, turdface.”

“No prob, snatchbasket. Let’s get out of here.”

Chapter Two

We went to The Turning Point, a bar downtown that served as a restaurant during the day. We’d been here before at night, but had never eaten here for lunch. I’d heard good things about their burgers, so I was anxious to give them a try. I was a sucker for a good bar burger.

The place was pretty empty today, and we were immediately seated at a booth. Our waitress was an extremely attractive girl about our age with dark brown hair. She promptly took our order and left to go get our drinks.

As we waited for our vodka cranberries, I noticed something had caught Sophie’s attention because her left brow was arched Scarlett O’Hara style.

“I’m in love,” she bluntly declared.

I cocked my head to the side and looked at her with disbelief. “Oh really? Since when?”

“Since right now. Look over your shoulder.”

I did and saw two guys talking at the bar. The bartender was facing our direction, and the other guy was sitting on a stool, his back toward us. The bartender was tall and had short, messy, light-brown hair. He was definitely a hottie! He appeared to be in really good shape under his snug green T-shirt, which had the bar’s logo across it. He had angular features but still managed to keep a boyish look to his face. I couldn’t see the front of the other guy, but his white T-shirt stretched across his back as he leaned forward on the counter, and I could tell he had a well-defined back and toned arms. His hair was jet-black and seemed to be styled in a similar fashion as the bartender’s. I could see tattoos peeking out of his shirt collar and his right shirtsleeve. I couldn’t see much of them other than obscure black lines. Probably a tribal tattoo of sorts, if I had to guess.

I found tattoos to be extremely sexy. Trenton didn’t have any, but I didn’t mind. He was more than handsome without any ink. It was just that he was a more refined, borderline-preppy-style of hot. He hated tattoos, claiming they were for morons who wanted to ruin their skin. I didn’t have any tattoos myself, but only because I’d never felt strongly enough about a particular image to permanently put it on my body. I had always figured I’d get one in the future, but with Trenton’s strong opinion about tattoos, I probably never would.

Since Barstool Guy’s back was to us, Sophie must have been talking about the bartender. “Bartender?” I asked, turning back to her.

“Oh yeah. The guy talking to him is a little sexier, but the bartender is the one my eye is on. He looks like a hot boy-next-door who is secretly naughty. I like to bring out a boy’s naughty side.”

“The other guy has his back to us, so how do you know that he’s sexier than Cute Bartender Guy?”
Does she have X-ray vision now?

“His back was to us when you looked, but I got a good eyeful before that,” she replied with a smirk.

I was curious about Barstool Guy, but only because if she found him to be sexier than Cute Bartender Guy, he must be
really
sexy. “Glad you got to see the full show, but back to the bartender. How the hell do you know he’s naughty? Since you’ve never even met him, am I to believe that you can figure this out by just looking at him?” I leaned back in the booth and crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t buy it.”

“I have a naughty radar that has never been wrong,” she answered, wiggling her eyebrows.

I laughed. “If you’re so sure of your radar, I dare you to go tell Cute Bartender Guy your theory and see just how ‘naughty’ he is.” I put my fingers up in mock quotation marks.

“You’re on. One naughty bartender coming up.” She began to scoot from the booth just as our waitress returned with our drinks. Sophie seized the opportunity. I saw her glance at the waitress’s name tag before asking, “Hey, Lorna, you don’t happen to know if the hottie bartender is single, do you?”

Lorna smiled. “You mean Conner? Yes, he’s totally available. He’s a super nice guy too. I’m surprised that he’s still on the market. You should really go talk to him.” This girl seemed to think highly of him.
Wonder why she doesn’t go after him herself?
Whatever the reason, she wouldn’t encourage Sophie if she had any interest in him.

Lorna left us, and Sophie asked me, “Are you going to be okay if I go talk to him?” I could tell she was giddy with excitement to go meet the mystery bartender.

“Of course. If I recall correctly, I was the one who dared you in the first place. I’ll just check Facebook on my phone until you come back.” I pointed my finger at her. “You have to swear that you’ll come back when the food comes.” I gave her my sternest look. “You know I hate to eat alone.”

“Gotcha. Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need luck. You have a naughty radar. Remember?”

She rolled her eyes at me and stepped out of our booth. After she walked away, I quickly moved to her side of the booth to get a good view. I watched as she strutted to the bar with a little extra swing to her hips. When she reached the two guys, she instantly struck up a conversation. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Sophie began to laugh. This was like a little personal reality TV show for me to enjoy—except it was on mute.
Wish I at least had closed captioning
.

Suddenly, all three of them looked my way, and I was busted eavesdropping. I quickly turned my gaze away and rummaged through my purse until I found my phone. I started to bring up Facebook when I noticed a body standing at the end of my booth. Barstool Guy was no longer on his barstool, but rather he was sliding into the other side of my booth.
Holy sex on a stick, Batman!
Sophie was dead wrong. Barstool Guy wasn’t just sexy. He was downright sinful. I’d guess he was about six feet tall, and the white T-shirt that was doing wonders for his back when he was at the bar was now straining against a toned chest. On his wrist was a black leather cuff with a silver buckle. He was fairly built, but in a lean kind of way. Close up, his black hair seemed even darker. Everything about this boy’s body and style screamed to my inner vixen, but it was his face that took the cake.

My gaze met his mischievous, dark-brown bedroom eyes, and I was pretty sure I stopped breathing. It was as if our eyes were locked and the rest of the room stood still. Why was this guy staring at me? Why was I staring back at him? Most importantly, why didn’t I want to stop?

I mentally slapped myself and shifted my eyes, breaking the contact. What had come over me? Yes, this guy was wickedly delicious, but I had a fiancé! For that reason alone, I shouldn’t have been ogling him.
Sienna, be real. A blind nun would have her panties melted by this guy
.

I was pretty sure that common courtesy dictated that a person should ask instead of sitting down uninvited. So what the heck he was doing sitting across from me in the first place was the real question of the day. Sophie knew I was engaged, so she wouldn’t have sent him over by me . . . or would she?

“Excuse me? Can I help you?” I asked the sexy stranger, with a bit of edge in my voice.

He put his elbows on the table and leaned in toward me. A sly grin pulled up one corner of his mouth. “Why yes, you can. I decided since
your
friend has stolen away
my
friend,
we
should become friends.”

Wow
. His voice sounded like gravel and honey.
Snap out of it. It’s just a voice
. I raised my eyebrows in skepticism but remained quiet while I contemplated a way to get rid of him.
Maybe if I say nothing, he’ll just go away
. Hold on, did I really want him to leave?
Yes . . . No . . . Maybe?

“Adam.” The word stopped my internal monologue.

“Huh?” It was the only reply I could come up with at that moment.

“Adam. It’s a name. My name to be exact.”

I stared at him blankly. It wasn’t my smoothest moment, but I was taken off guard.

He cocked his head slightly. “Now this is the part where you tell me your name.” He stopped leaning on his elbows and relaxed into the booth seat.

“Not interested,” I replied with a hard stare that was meant to accentuate my point.

“Peculiar name,” he said, unruffled.

“Ha-ha. Very funny,” I caustically retorted. When I didn’t say anything else, he stretched his arms in the air, brought his hands behind his head, and then relaxed even further into the booth. I was floored. D
oesn’t this guy take a hint?

I looked toward Sophie for help, but she was sitting on a barstool talking to the bartender, her back to me. I was going to have to get rid of Adam on my own. Since hints weren’t working, it was time for the direct approach. “Look, I appreciate you stopping by and all, but I have a fiancé, so you’re wasting your time.”
There, take that and mull it over, Mr. Sexy Man!

He remained lounging in the booth, face unreadable. “Someone’s pretty confident about herself.” My eyes bugged out of my head.
The nerve of this guy!
“I clearly told you when I sat down that we should become friends. I didn’t ask for more.” His hands came out from behind his head and rested on the table as he sat up straight. His eyes narrowed as if he were assessing me and I was coming up lacking. “Do you assume every guy wants more with you, Princess?” I sputtered, unable to form a reply. “For your information, I noticed the golf ball sized diamond on your finger when I reached the table.” He chuckled lightly to himself. “Now that we got that out of the way, are you ready to become friends?”