Lie, Lie Again(73)



“Yep. I couldn’t find any either, so I picked some up the other day.”

“Awesome. I’ll be right over.”

She turned a few chairs to their sides as she walked across her room. Amelia breezed in, clad in a bright-green dress and a shamrock headband. “Whoa. You went all out,” she said, eyeing the butcher-paper pathway dotted with tiny green footprints that led into the room and up the wall.

Riki grinned. “Cute, right? I saw it on Pinterest. I stayed late yesterday to do it.”

“I should’ve done that, too, but I was so annoyed after school, I just blew out of here. Dylan’s mom is making me crazy.”

“It just takes one to ruin your entire day.”

“No kidding.” The shamrocks bobbled above her head as she spoke. “It’s frustrating.”

“If they’d just let us do our jobs and not get all bent, life would be so much easier,” Riki said, straightening her own headband.

Amelia eyed the paper. “How’d you make the little footprints?”

“I dipped my fingers in green paint and kind of hopped them across the paper.” She tilted her head, looking at them. “They look a little bit like alien feet, but I tried.”

“They’re awesome. You’re so creative.”

“Ha. Have you seen my papier-maché panda? Chris thought it was a ball.” Riki turned to her. “We’re official now, by the way. As of last week.”

“I thought you had been for a while.”

“I mean, I guess we both weren’t dating anyone else, but he wanted to make it officially official.” She carefully tipped another chair to its side. “We’re leaving for Mammoth with some of his friends this afternoon. It’ll be our first trip together.”

Amelia turned to her. “Why do you sound nervous about it?”

Because I almost tried to seduce my neighbor yesterday, and I’ve never traveled with a boyfriend? Instead, she said, “I don’t know.”

“Of course you know. What’s up?”

“It’s just—” She straightened a stack of papers on her desk. The traveling would be fine. It wasn’t like they were going to Europe. They weren’t even going on a plane. They were driving to the mountains. But if something went wrong, there was no escape. Nothing will go wrong! she chided herself. It was all going to be just fine. And she hadn’t done anything to clue Brandon in on her feelings. She’d backed away from it. But it still bothered her that she felt so strongly for Brandon when Chris was the guy she was with. “Um, how do you know when it’s right? Like, does everything line up, or are there still things you wonder about?”

“Depends on what you’re looking for, I guess. For me, I’m having a great time with Wes. He’s fun to hang out with, and I think he’s hot. But will I marry the guy? Probably not. But I’m not looking for that at the moment, you know? It boils down to what you want.”

She made it sound so easy. And really, it was. So why did Riki have to make it so complicated? If only she could be as laid-back as Amelia. She could picture her flying down a mountain on skis and having a beer with the guys after. But she saw herself sitting on the chairlift, afraid to get off, faking confidence. She wondered if everyone faked it sometimes.



Sylvia cracked the car window as she sat in the Stone-May parking lot, her newest burner phone in hand. How she adored these gadgets. They were just so convenient. This one had a postage stamp stuck to the back—a reminder that it was strictly for calls to Patrick Sharp.

She glanced at her watch. Only twenty minutes left of her lunch hour. She typed Patrick’s number. The phone rang twice before he answered.

“Patrick Sharp here.”

“Hi, my name is Ann Travis, and I’m calling about the property you have listed on Mockingbird Lane in Venice.”

“Yep, that one just went on the market. There’s a lot of versatility with the property.”

“That’s the impression I got when researching it. I’d like to come take a look. Is there a time that works for you early next week?”

“I’ll let you know up front that we’re only considering serious inquiries. The seller doesn’t want to waste his time.”

“Nor do I,” she said, copying his supercilious tone. “I own several income properties on the Westside, and I’m always scouting for good investments. Google me if it makes you feel better.”

“I apologize. It’s been a busy morning with calls from people who saw the sign and want to know if one of the units is for rent. They can’t even read. Anyway, you said your name is Ann?”

“Yes. Ann Travis.” She rattled off the number for the burner phone. “I’m out of town until Monday night, but I can be available Tuesday morning.”

“How about Tuesday at noon? I’ll meet you there.”

“I’ll see you then. Have a good weekend.” She ended the call and smiled. Of course, she would cancel the meeting at the last minute due to a delayed flight, but she would talk numbers big enough to keep him salivating. And more important, good old Johnny Cat would ignore other potential offers. And then she would drag it out for as long as she could without garnering any suspicion. If Mr. Sharp googled Ann Travis, he’d find she was quite the player in the real estate world. And there wasn’t a remote chance he could link her to Sylvia.

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