Believing Lies (39 page)

I found my dad and Adam a few feet down the hall, smiling and talking. I almost choked on my own tongue when I witnessed my grinning dad patting Adam on the back as he gave him a handshake.
Five minutes alone, and they’re best friends? Is everyone an effing turncoat
?

I walked up to them, thoroughly perplexed.

My dad saw the look of confusion on my face, but didn’t comment on it. “I’ve got to get back to surgery. Have you decided if you’re coming to your mom’s party tomorrow night?”

“I don’t really want to, Dad,” I answered honestly.

“Just think about it. I know your mom wants you to come.” He gave me a big hug. “I’m happy for you sweetheart.”

Dad was a few steps down the hall when he abruptly turned around. “I’ll call you if anything changes, Adam. Otherwise, plan on five.”

Adam nodded. “Yes, sir.”

The instant my dad was out of sight, I raised my eyebrow. “What did he mean? And you’re calling him, sir? Really?”

He shrugged. “Isn’t that how you’re supposed to address your girlfriend’s dad when you meet him? I’ve never done it before, but I think that’s standard protocol.”

I knew what he was doing. I could see the bait he was dangling in front of my face.
Ignore it
. Too late. I saw red—bright, flaming red. “I’m not your girlfriend,” I seethed. “I was your pretend girlfriend—past tense. Get it straight.” I started to storm down the hall, him hot on my trail and chuckling. Yes, the smug bastard was actually chuckling.

Once we were back at the main entrance, I turned around. Frantically, I grabbed bricks and began to build back up my wall. “Thank you for coming today,” I said curtly. “I’ll keep you informed after the next appointment.”

He looked as if I’d just slapped him across the face. “Sure. You do that.”

I zipped up my oversized winter jacket, pulled on my hat and mittens, and walked out into the cold. Flurries sprinkled down from the sky, and I pulled my collar up. Adam walked out a moment later, and to my surprise, he sat on the bus stop bench.

Curiosity got the best of me. “What are you doing?”

He cocked his brow. “Sitting.”

“Obviously. Why are you sitting?”

“I’m sure you’ve never ridden a bus in your life, Princess, but this is where people sit when they want to get on one.”

“Don’t be an ass.” He smiled. Only Adam would smile at being called an ass. “You have a car, so why are you riding the bus?”

“Car trouble.”

“But I was just in it last night.”

He shrugged and looked at the sky. “You better get going, the snow’s getting heavier.”

I turned and took a few steps before halting. I didn’t turn around to face him. “Are you just going to sit there, or are you coming?” I asked exasperatedly and started to walk again.

I heard a low chuckle, and it only took a few of his long strides before he was right next to me, entering the parking ramp together. I walked up to my pearl Lexus RX.

“Where’s your car?” he asked as I opened my door.

“Traded it in. An SUV is better in the snow, and it will be a lot easier once the baby comes. There will be plenty of room for the car seat and also to keep a stroller and other stuff in the back.”

He opened the passenger door and got in. “Makes sense. It’s nice, but I’ll miss the Mustang.”

I started the engine and turned the heater on full blast. “Me too.” I had spent many days talking myself into getting rid of my car before I actually went through with it. I missed my Mustang now, but I knew that I’d really miss it once the weather turned warm again.

I turned on the radio and cranked up the volume.

He turned it down.

I turned it back up.

He turned it off.

I gave him a death glare.

He gave me a crooked sexy smile.

“Haven’t you learned by now that I like it when you’re feisty?”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re making me regret not leaving you on that bench.”

A buzz came from his side of the car. He took out his phone and glanced at the screen. “Mind if I answer this? It’s Conner’s mom.”

“No problem.” In all the times we’d spent together, he’d never spoken to her while in my presence. I felt a tad uneasy, as if I was intruding in a way.

“Hey, Karen . . . We just left . . . Girl.” I watched Adam’s face light up. “She’s driving me home right now.” His face fell. “I don’t think she’d like that.”

With a baffled look, I silently mouthed, “What?”

Adam smiled once more. “I’m used to making her mad at me, so you win.” Now I was thoroughly confused. He took his phone from his ear and touched the screen.

“Sienna?” a female asked—presumably Karen.
I can’t believe he just put me on speaker phone!
I started to panic.

“Um. Yeah. Hi.”
Real articulate
.

“Congratulations, darling.”
Darling?
“A little girl. That’s so exciting.” Her voice was so sincere and sweet.

“Thank you. I’m really happy. I mean, I would have been happy either way, off course, but I’m happy about her being a girl. Um, yeah, I’m happy. Oh geez, I already said that.”
Holy Hell, shut the fuck up right now!
I’d turned into a bumbling mess. I just felt this intense sense of pressure and desire to impress the woman who was basically a second mom to Adam, and instead I bombed face-first in the mud.

She softly laughed, and it sounded like wind chimes. “What are you doing tomorrow for Christmas Eve? I’d love for you to come here.”
Whoa, completely blindsided
! “As you know, Sophie’s coming, and we would be so pleased if you joined her.”

“I . . . um . . . well . . .”

“I know I’m putting you on the spot, but we’d honestly love to meet you.”

I snuck a peek at Adam, expecting him to look shocked or unhappy, but he appeared to be hopeful. For that reason, I knew what I had to do. “That’s a really nice offer, Karen, but I’ve already made plans with my parents. I wouldn’t want to cancel on them last minute.”

Adam turned his face toward the window.

I could audibly hear her sigh into the phone. “I understand. I had to try . . . But soon? Please say yes.”

“I’d like that.”

“Adam?”

“Yeah, Karen.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow night. Love you.”

“You too.” He hung up the phone as I pulled out of the parking spot.

There was an uneasy tension the entire drive to his house. He knew the truth about my plans with my parents, but he didn’t call me out on it. Instead, neither of us spoke one word.

He finally broke the silence when I pulled into his driveway. “If you change your mind, please come tomorrow.”

“It was very nice of her to offer, but I won’t change my mind.”

He nodded, and the disappointment on his face knocked back down a few more bricks. He opened the door and got out. “Merry Christmas, Princess,” he said softly, closing the door behind him.

I gave him a small smile through the window and backed out of his driveway.

Once he was out of view, I whispered, “Merry Christmas, Adam.”

***

Sophie practically attacked me when I walked into the apartment.

“Why didn’t you call me?” she screeched, pulling me into the living room as soon as my boots were off. She put her hands on her hips and gave me a look that screamed, “Tell me right now!”

I cracked a huge smile. “Girl.”

She smiled brightly and bounced up and down. “What was Adam’s reaction?”

“He was happy.”

Her smile widened.
It must hurt to smile that big
. “And things between you two went okay?” she probed.

“Yep.”

“Yep? That’s all I get?” she asked, less than impressed with my answer.

I hesitated, and my face fell. “There’s not much to say, Sophie. It was fine. I’m going to go take a long bath,” I informed her. “My stomach is gross from the ultrasound gel.”

“Hold on. I just got off the phone with Karen. She wants me to try to convince you to come with me tomorrow. So, pretty please?” she begged, batting her eyes.

Karen plays hardball
. “Can’t. I’m going to my parents.”

“Why?” she questioned, frowning. “They’re having a party with all of their stuffy friends. We’ve skipped it the past three years.” She didn’t even try to hide the criticism in her voice.

I’d planned on skipping it this year too. I’d planned on watching holiday movies and eating ice cream by myself. Mostly, I’d planned on a night to wallow alone, but it looked as if a stuffy party was now in my future.

“I promised them.”
Liar
.

“You’re full of shit. Something’s up, and it has to do with Adam. What is it?”

I sat on the couch, and she sat next to me. “Fine. Truth? It’s just still a little too much for me when I’m around him. He does or says nice things, and instead of making me feel better, it hurts me. It makes me remember the past and why I fell in love with him in the first place. I don’t want to remember. I’m losing focus, and I can feel him breaking in. I still love him, Soph. But I don’t trust him. It’s so complicated.”

“Then simplify things.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Conner picked up Sophie the next afternoon, and I made sure to be all smiles until they left. However, the instant they were gone, I went to the living room, lay down on the couch, and allowed the hot tears to spill. I contemplated calling Sophie and telling her to come back and get me, but I didn’t. Time to get back out the mortar and the bricks because I had a wall to not only build, but also reinforce.

After my hormonal crying was done, (yep, I was blaming it all on hormones) I decided to get in a few Christmas movies before going to my parents. The party wasn’t until later tonight, and I really didn’t want to be there beforehand. I killed time by watching
A Christmas Story
and then
It’s a Wonderful Life
. The irony of that movie title versus the way I felt wasn’t lost on me.

I knew how my mother expected me to look today, so I curled my light blonde hair until it was soft and bouncy, put on a string of pearls, and a black, tailored, knee length dress, which she had bought for me last week. I hadn’t dressed to appease Mother since I’d broken my engagement. It felt extremely off-putting to start again.

My parent’s Christmas Eve party was barely tolerable. I didn’t know hardly anyone there. Almost everyone was over fifty years old—or at least the men were. There were a handful of younger trophy wives flitting about in short dresses and four inch heels. You could tell which ones were married to the plastic surgeons.

My mother was pretty cool though. Well, as cool as Clarice Trudeau could be. She gushed that she was going to have a granddaughter to whomever would listen. But after she introduced me, she would go mingle with someone else, leaving me to answer questions. Having to answer personal questions asked by almost complete strangers was tiresome. Getting asked about “who was the baby’s father?” or “did I even know who the father was?” was equal measures of irritating and depressing. I may have been friendly and cheery on the outside, but it was only so I wouldn’t embarrass my parents. On the inside, I was screaming a slew of profanities and telling these people to mind their own fucking business.

Finally, when I couldn’t bear another second, I slunk off into the corner of the room. That was where my dad found me, eating meatballs directly off the serving tray I’d confiscated from the caterer. I smiled at him and wiped my sauce covered fingers on a napkin—I hadn’t take the time to get a fork, and the little toothpick thingies were irksome.

Sympathy was written all over my dad’s face. “I know this isn’t your crowd, honey.”
Understatement of the year
. “No one would blame you if you cashed in early.”

I gave him a sassy smile. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

He chuckled. “Never.”

I handed over the tray of meatballs and kissed his cheek. “Goodnight, Dad.”

I climbed the stairs and went into my old bedroom. I didn’t even stop to brush my teeth first. I opened my overnight bag, took off the uncomfortable dress, threw on a plain worn-out black T-shirt, and crawled into bed. I will neither confirm nor deny if the shirt previously belonged to Adam, or if it was worn-out because I wore it to bed almost every night.

***

“Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey,” Sophie said in a sing-song voice and plopped on my bed with a thud.

“There are neither eggs nor bacon cooking in this house.” I grumbled.

“How would you know? There could be.”

“One side effect of this pregnancy is the nose of a bloodhound when it comes to food. There is a turkey cooking, but no bacon. So unless you are going to go cook me some, go away.” I pulled the covers over my head.

She pulled the covers off of me with one strong tug. “No can do. It’s eleven o’clock already, and your mom said to get your ass out of bed.” She giggled. “Okay, maybe she didn’t phrase it like that verbatim, but you catch my drift.” I put my head under my pillow. Sophie, never one to be deterred, pulled my pillow away too. “Come on,” she whined. “I’m trying to not get on your mom’s bad side today since it’s Christmas. Actually, she’s been somewhat nice ever since you moved in with me.” She seemed to ponder this for a moment. “The Sophie stick seems to be out of her ass.”

“That horrible mental image you just conjured will be forever burnt into my brain.”

“Whatever. We’re all waiting on you to open presents.”

I sat up and rubbed my eyes. “Okay. You win,” I said with a small smile.

Her nose wrinkled. “Yuck, who shit in your mouth last night?”

I couldn’t help it, I burst out in laughter. “Not shit; lots and lots of meatballs.”

“Gross! Go brush your teeth . . . twice.” She plugged her nose and scrunched her face. “I’ll go get your present,” she said nasally, her nose still pinched.

I brushed my teeth and went back to my room, where Sophie was once again sitting on my bed. The package she handed me was wrapped in paper that had little multicolored penises all over it. Inside I found several items. The first was a bra, which had boobie tassels attached to the front. Next was the largest pair of silky granny panties I’d ever seen.
Nice
. And lastly was a box of condoms with a sticky note that read: 98% Effective. Congratulations on being the 2%! (A smiley face with a tongue sticking out was drawn underneath the writing.)