Lies I Told(18)

“Okay,” I said. “But I should warn you that I’m not exactly an expert.”

“It’s cool.” Olivia started toward the net. “You’re from San Francisco, right?”

I nodded, trying to keep up with her long-legged stride.

“No wonder you don’t play,” she said as we approached the group. “Too cold up there.”

Olivia made the introductions. I recognized some of the girls from school, and they were all warm and friendly, happy to have a sixth person to even out the teams. Harper welcomed me with a nervous smile and we joined forces with Olivia on one side of the net, tossing the ball back and forth amid laughter and good-natured trash talk. The girls gave me pointers as the game progressed, laughing off my mistakes as I tried to keep up with their experienced serves and spikes. I was just getting into a groove when someone spoke from the sidelines.

“I guess you started without me.”

The ball fell to the ground as everyone turned toward Rachel, who was wearing white short-shorts and a black bathing-suit top, her hair shimmering like a new penny in what was left of the sunlight.

“We didn’t know when you were coming,” Olivia explained. She tipped her head at me. “And we picked up a sixth, so we figured we might as well play while we waited.”

“Come on, Rach,” Harper said, sounding a little desperate. “You can be on our team.”

Rachel looked accusingly at me. “The teams will be uneven.”

Olivia let out an exasperated sigh. “So? We’re just having fun. Besides, it’ll be dark in, like, ten minutes.”


“I can move to the other side so you can be on Harper and Olivia’s team,” I offered. It wasn’t about Rachel. I was past caring what she thought of me. But it would make me look agreeable to the other girls, which would make Rachel look irrational and petulant in contrast.

“Forget it,” Rachel said, tossing her hair. “I’ll go.” She ducked under the net, crossing to the other side.

I had to fight a triumphant smirk. Plan B was fully operational.

And going pretty well, thank you very much.





Fourteen


By the time we finished playing, my legs burned with fatigue and my arms felt weighted with lead. Now I knew why Rachel looked so great in shorts and a bikini top.

After the game, she took off without a backward glance while Olivia introduced me to everyone on the beach. I wasn’t much of a drinker—I had to operate at full mental capacity when I was working—but I took a beer with the other girls and sipped it for show. I grabbed one of the beach chairs and was tipping the cold bottle to my mouth when Olivia plopped down next to me. Harper pulled a chair up on the other side and before I knew it, we were deep in conversation, moving between movies, fashion, guys, and finally, San Francisco. I was relieved I’d done some homework on the Bay Area before getting to Los Angeles and even more relieved that none of the girls had been there for more than a weekend.

As usual, I was lying through my teeth, but at least the odds of getting caught were slim.

An hour later, the party was in full swing, and I watched from across the beach as Rachel moved in on Parker, standing too close and flipping her hair, textbook examples of body language in full-on flirt mode. But there was something else, too. Something watchful in the way she stood, the way she angled her body. Like she was expecting an attack any minute.

Or planning one.

Olivia spoke from the chair next to her. “Don’t look now, but someone’s found a new target.”

I laughed. “Rachel? Or Parker?”

“Neither.” Olivia tipped her beer bottle in another direction entirely. “Logan. He hasn’t taken his eyes off you since he got here.”

I followed the beer bottle until my gaze landed on Logan. He was standing at the edge of the fire, a petite blonde chatting him up as he tried to look interested in what she was saying. It might have helped if he’d actually been looking at her.

But Olivia was right; he was watching me.

I offered him a sympathetic smile. His eyes lit up from across the beach.

“Told you,” Olivia said, laughing a little.

It was the perfect segue to the dirt on Logan’s romantic past. “He is pretty hot,” I admitted. “Does he have a girlfriend?”

“Not right now,” Harper answered, running her fingers through her short, dirty-blond hair. “But he does have an interesting dating pedigree.”

Olivia laughed.

“That doesn’t sound good.” I sat back in my chair with a sigh. “Go ahead. Give it to me straight. I can take it.”

“He and Rachel were a thing,” Olivia said. “Until last year, actually.”

“Really? What happened?”

Olivia shrugged. “Logan’s a little . . .”

“Slow,” Harper finished.

“Slow?”

The subject file didn’t say anything about Logan being slow. Captain of the lacrosse team, a 3.9 GPA, and president of the school’s charitable Human Services Group didn’t say slow. Not to mention the way he’d seemed when we talked, the clarity and intelligence in his eyes when he’d given me a ride home.

“I guess slow isn’t the right word,” Olivia corrected herself. “More . . . chill.”