Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
I’m so distracted by thoughts of my double life that we’re less than a block from the apartment building when I see the aging man standing by the curb. It’s Dave Mackey, in his usual uniform, right down to the battered boots, dark brown work pants, and Red Hook Raiders baseball cap. He’s scrolling through his phone outside Maya’s building, his inspector clipboard tucked under one arm.
Ice instantly floods into my veins.
He isn’t supposed to be here. I called yesterday and the woman at the office said Kyle Mitchell was assigned to Maya’s account. Kyle, a recent hire, who I have never met and would have no idea who I really am.
So, what happened? Is Kyle sick? Need to swap shifts?
Did Dave, being the pappa bear he’s always been, decide he should come watch over the small-town girl buying a property in a rough part of town personally? Something like that wouldn’t surprise me, but it doesn’t really matter how this switch came to be.
What matters is that I can’t get any closer to that building or my lies are going to blow up in my face and wreck Maya’s focus for the inspection in the process.
I have to get out of here.
Now.
Before I fuck this up for her.
“Just a second,” I say, stopping dead and turning my back to Dave, my heart hammering as I pull my phone from my coat pocket. I’m a shitty actor, but I give my “worried about what I’m reading” face everything I’ve got as I open my lock screen and pretend to scan a “new” message.
I curse, shaking my head as if I’ve received terrible news as I scramble for a believable lie.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Maya asks, the concern in her voice making my frustration rise higher.
But I’m not frustrated with her. I’m the problem here. I’m the idiot who kept doubling and tripling down on this lie when I knew better. I’ve never been a liar. I don’t know why I thought now would be a good time to start, but I silently vow to never pull anything like this again.
I wasn’t built for deception, a fact I prove by mumbling, “It’s my friend, Chris. He’s at the hospital. Something about a workplace accident.”
“Oh no,” Maya says, casting a confused glance at my cell. “Is he going to be okay?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know, but I…” I swallow hard, feeling as if my fat, lying tongue might choke me as I add, “But I have to go. Now. I’m sorry.”
I start back toward the subway, Maya trailing after me. “What? Are you sure? I mean, should I try to postpone the inspection until this afternoon? I could come with you, maybe, and then—”
“No,” I cut in. “I should go alone. And you have to meet your inspector. They’ll charge you extra if you ask for a change this close to the appointment, and they might not have anyone available this afternoon. Just go,” I say, motioning back toward the apartment building as I force what I’m sure is an unconvincing smile. “And I’ll see you later. Text me as soon as you’re done, okay?”
“Okay,” she says, her steps slowing.
I turn, walking faster, fleeing the scene of the crime.
I’m already a few yards away by the time Maya calls out, “I hope your friend is okay!”
I glance over my shoulder and lift a hand in recognition, my stomach bottoming out again at the hurt and suspicion on her face. Maya is a trusting soul who wants to believe the best about people, but she isn’t stupid.
And even after a few days, she knows me.
She obviously suspects I’m lying. Maybe more than suspects.
If you only knew, I think, hating myself as I turn the corner and charge back toward the subway.
I can’t change course now. I’d only embarrass and confuse her even more if I went with her to meet Dave and the truth of who I am came out in the middle of one of the biggest meetings of her life.
But I can tell her today. I won’t wait for New Year’s Eve.
I’ll spill it all as soon as she gets home this afternoon and then…
Well, then it will be up to her to decide if she thinks this thing we’ve found is worth fighting for.
I pull out my phone again, texting Twyla—I have to tell Maya tonight. It can’t wait until New Year’s Eve. Our lives are getting dangerously close to overlapping, and I don’t want her to learn the truth from someone else. She deserves it from me. And one hell of a groveling apology.
Bubbles instantly fill my screen—Okay. Then come by the club early tonight, around 5 or so, before the crowds descend. I’ll help you.
Anthony: Thanks, but I’ll handle it. It’s my mess.
Twyla: That’s not true. I’m the one who talked you into pretending to be someone you weren’t. Though, in my defense, I thought it would be a harmless way to blow off steam before you got back to winning at capitalism. I never imagined the two of you would hit it off like this. But I guess maybe I should have. There was something about the way your eyes met as she walked into the library…