Lie to Me (Pearl Island Trilogy #4)
by Julie Ortolon
Chapter 1
Destiny was a real bitch, Luc decided as he drove his black vintage Porsche into the oyster-shell parking lot of the Pearl Island Inn. When his grandmother told him years ago that Chloe Davis’s future and his were entwined, he’d thought she meant romantically. He’d naturally scoffed at the idea, even though he’d never doubted her abilities as a fortuneteller in other matters.
He should have explained the improbability to her.
“Yeah, right,” he muttered to himself, something he’d been doing a little too much during the long drive from New Orleans. Like he would have told his grandmother, who had always thought he was perfect, that he was actually the school dork while Chloe had run with the popular crowd. The idea of “entwining” with Chloe had never done more than fuel some predictable adolescent fantasies.
Now, he was about to come face to face with the adult version of the girl he’d had sex with in his head more times than he could count.
“I can’t believe I have to do this,” he groaned, knowing he had to meet with her without allowing any of that to show on his face. Or affect his body.
Good luck with that, dude. He’d been struggling to scrub the images from his brain throughout the drive. Unfortunately, they kept coming at him in flashes, with vivid detail. Alternating with equally unwelcome memories of what his life had been like before he’d become a successful computer gaming entrepreneur.
He needed to stop thinking about all of it. He’d left the whole social nightmare of school behind more than a decade ago. In its place, he’d built a world where he belonged. No, he more than belonged. He thrived. That’s where he wanted to be right then; back in New Orleans, working on the newest version of Vortal, the alternate universe game that was his life’s work and his greatest escape.
Instead, here he was in Galveston, on a mission that would certainly have him entwining with Chloe Davis, not romantically but legally, over custody of the very object that lay at the heart of his grandmother’s prediction and the world he’d created for himself.
Which proved Destiny wasn’t just a bitch; she had a twisted sense of humor.
Finding a parking place, he climbed from the sports car and slammed the door, eager to put the ordeal behind him. Mid-day sun glared into his eyes, but a coastal breeze took the edge off the heat. It would be a perfect spring day if his gut weren’t churning like a storm in the Gulf. Tipping his head back, he took in the granite mansion that now served as a bed and breakfast. The inn’s website certainly hadn’t exaggerated its grandeur. The place looked like something straight out of a gothic novel, complete with a spire-topped turret. Gargoyles snarled down at him from the edges of the multi-pitched roof.
“Gargoyles?” he said, his interest piqued. “Cool.”
Under different circumstances, the whole place would have thrilled him. As the creator of Vortal, what could be more up his alley than stone beasts on a gothic mansion that had once welcomed pirates? Throw in the rumors of ghosts he’d read about, and oh yeah, he’d be all over this. Normally.
Lowering his gaze to the windows on the ground floor, he wondered if Chloe was inside. A shaft of dread shot through him, and he realized with disgust that it didn’t just come from facing a woman he’d fantasized about. It came from facing a woman who knew what a dork he’d once been.
You aren’t that kid anymore, he reminded himself. He’d systematically obliterated all external traces of geek.
Could this dread be the real reason he’d resisted making this trip? Since that shocking instant when he learned that Chloe, of all the people on the planet, had found his grandmother’s necklace, he’d tried to figure out a way to claim the piece without dealing directly with her.
Unfortunately, the circumstances surrounding her finding the necklace made the case so complicated, he saw no choice. She’d found it lying on the beach, so everyone believed it was a relic from a nineteenth-century shipwreck in the island’s cove, which meant it should belong to the state. However, beaches created a gray area in the law, so a judge had directed the Texas Historical Commission to award Chloe ownership on the condition that she agree to put the valuable necklace on permanent display in a museum.
For him to prove the necklace actually belonged to his grandmother meant fighting the state of Texas and the Historical Commission. The lawyer he’d hired insisted Chloe’s cooperation could make the process easier. Which meant talking to her in person.
Resigned, he thrust on a pair of sunglasses, then made sure he’d only half-tucked his polo shirt into his jeans, as depicted in the Style App on his phone. He’d developed the app a few years back to keep up with current trends and auto-order his clothes online. Much to his annoyance, he’d discovered that looking cool meant a guy had to update his wardrobe more often than his operating system.
On the up side, he clearly wasn’t the only single guy who needed help figuring out what to buy and how to wear it, since he’d earned a nice chunk of change off the Style App. Satisfied with his clothes, he raked his hands through his blond hair and realized he’d forgotten to have it cut. Again. As in the last six months.
“Dang it!” He should have taken care of that before leaving New Orleans.
Maybe he needed an app for that, too.
Well, too late to worry about it now, he decided as he looked for the entrance to the house. According to his research Chloe managed the gift shop, so she was probably inside. He spotted a path that led to the cove side of the house and decided that must lead to the main entrance. Originally, visitors to the island would have arrived by ship. Following the path around the turret, he found a few guests sitting in wicker chairs on a large veranda, enjoying a panoramic view of the island’s private cove.