Lie, Lie Again(51)

Thirty minutes later, they trailed back to their building. Dowdy Sarah had earned a new nickname—Tipsy Sarah. How one sugary cocktail could hype her up was a mystery, but Sylvia seized the moment. “You should go talk to the man from accounting when we get back. Ask him a question about what he does. Men love to talk about themselves. And you look so cute in that green dress. It’s a great tone for your skin.” She didn’t mention that it looked like something that had been packed in mothballs.

“Really? Do you think I should?”

“Sure! Why not? Maybe he’ll even suggest a Saturday matinee.”

Belinda gave her a stern look. “I’d wait until the end of the day. You wouldn’t want to interrupt his work, right, Sylvia?”

“Probably true.” She smiled innocently at Belinda. “Very good point. And you wouldn’t want him to think you’re a lush.”

That earned her another look from Belinda, but Tipsy Sarah was blissfully unaware, teetering ahead like an excited child at Disneyland.



As Sylvia sat behind her computer, the name Sal Mendel played in her mind. She clicked on the company website and typed his name into the search bar. His profile popped up immediately, along with a photo. Sylvia blinked. How had she never seen this individual before? He had a wonderfully friendly face, just as Sarah had said, and a full head of sandy hair, a square jaw, nice lips, and an unassuming nose. A great candidate for an ally indeed. She set her phone timer for fifty minutes. That would give her enough time to finish her report, brush her teeth, and touch up her lipstick. And a few extra minutes to hatch a plan that would end with a visit to the second floor, where the accounting department was located.

Fifty minutes later, with a manila folder in hand, Sylvia headed to the elevator bank. She was armed with old invoices for orders that had already been delivered, but she planned to feign ignorance and say she wasn’t certain they’d gone through accounting. Maybe she could save the company hundreds of thousands of dollars! It was a bit of a stretch, but she could sell it. When the elevator arrived, she stepped in, taking a deep breath as it ascended.

The doors opened on the second floor, and a man stood waiting. He slapped a hand to the door to keep it from closing. Holy shit. It was him.

“Are you getting off?” He raised a brow, waiting. “It’s the last stop.”

She shook her head and stepped back. “Sorry, no. I was coming up from the parking structure and passed my floor. I guess I’m distracted.” She was distracted all right, but she’d let him think it was a personal problem, not a thwarted plan.

“In that case, I’ll ride down with you.” He pushed the button for the lowest level of the structure and looked at her. “Back to the first floor for you?”

“No. I left something in my car,” she said with a sheepish smile. “P2, please.”

She pressed a hand to her cheek. Her cell phone sounded with a text alert, and she took it from her pocket. UPS had just delivered her package. She’d found a great vintage Chanel dress on eBay and had actually won the auction. She’d chalked it up to beginner’s luck.

Wait! This could work. Smacking her phone against her leg, she closed her eyes for a moment and released a small breath.

“Are you okay?” His brown eyes filled with polite concern.

“Fine,” she rushed. “Mostly.” She lifted her phone limply. “My ex can’t seem to stop from sending harassing texts. I should be used to it by now . . .” She bit down hard on her lip. “Sorry. I’m sure you didn’t want to hear all that. Ignore me! I’m perfectly fine.” The doors opened at P2, and she plastered on a brave smile. “Here’s my stop. Have a good afternoon.”

She stepped out of the elevator and headed toward her car, congratulating herself on the quick thinking. If he wanted to make the leap that the texts were from her boyfriend, so be it. But she hadn’t said that, now, had she? How she loved semantics.

“Hey, um, excuse me?”

She turned. Well, God bless Lady Danger. She had caught him checking out her lips as she bit them. “Yes?”

“I didn’t get to introduce myself.” He held out a hand. “I’m Sal Mendel.”

She carefully moved the folder to her bandaged hand and shook his. Their first contact. “Sylvia Webb. I work in the marketing department. How about you?”

“Accounting.” He grinned. “Less creative than where you are, but I like it.”

She tilted her head and smiled, taking in his sincere brown eyes. “But it appears you get to leave early. That’s a perk.”

“Not really. I have a dentist appointment.”

“Ooh. Good luck with that.”

Her phone beeped again. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect! She looked at the screen hesitantly and quickly shut it off.

“Was that him again?”

She sighed. “When is it not?” Technically, she hadn’t lied. It was a second reminder from UPS.

Sal studied her face, and she opened her eyes wide, hoping she looked brave and fragile all at once. It’s why she kept her hair glossy black. The contrast with her crystal-blue eyes was dramatic: severe yet sweet.

“I don’t mean to butt in, but you could block him.”

“Good thinking. It might come to that.” She smiled again. “I’m happy I got off on the wrong floor. It was really nice to meet you, Sal.”