Things Liars Fake (#ThreeLittleLies #3) (5 page)

Another blush warms my cheeks.

Bethany brushes him off. “
Ach
, you kids today and your secrecy. Why hide it? Why are you all so afraid of commitment? Please don’t tell me you’re on The Tinder? That’s a trolling site for hook-ups and, you know.”

She clucks her tongue, lecturing us on the downsides of dating in the 21
st
Century. “All you kids do is put everything on-the-line, but you don’t want to commit to a relationship.”

We
must
look horrified, because she takes one look at us and busts out laughing.

“Fine, fine, I won’t say anything if you’re trying to keep it a secret. Shhhh, my lips are sealed.” She makes another shushing sound, those brown eyes fixated on me. “I don’t know if Dex
told
you, but our family tree is full of nuts. I don’t blame him for keeping you a secret. Once the family finds out, it’s Good night Eileen.”

Good night, Eileen? I’m not… What the hell does that even mean?

She jabbers on. “Anywho, I better get going; my friend Brenda ran to the bathroom and she’ll have a hissy fit if I’m not standing where she left me when she walks out. Goodness, I can’t wait to tell Little Erik I bumped into you.”

Dexter snorts and turns to me with a grin. “
Little
Erik is my younger cousin. He kind of idolizes me,” he bashfully informs me. “He’s named after my Uncle Erik—Big Erik and Little Erik, get it? He’s also over six feet tall.”

“We like the irony of calling him
little
,” Bethany snickers. “It’s my favorite joke. Everyone is always expecting a toddler. My poor Sadie inherited all the short genes.” She gives her theater soda a shake, back and forth, swirling around the ice inside the cup.

“Sadie is your daughter?” I inquire politely, but genuinely interested.

His Aunt chatters on with great enthusiasm. “Yes! Nineteen going on forty-five; she’d rather stay home and
read
than go out with her friends. You’ll meet her at Grace’s party if she comes home from school that weekend.”

“Aunt B—”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not gonna tell a soul. Just pretend you never bumped into me.” She leans in close, like we’re conspiring. “Can you just give me a little nibble of the details though? Where did you two meet? One of those dating sites? MySpace?”

“MySpace isn’t a thing anymore, Aunt B.”

“Oh. Bumble App?”

Dexter shakes his head. “How do you know about—you know what? Forget I asked.”

His composed exterior fading, I put my hand on his forearm to calm him, and he glances down at it before looking into my eyes.

“It’s fine,” I intone to him quietly. To Bethany I say, “Aunt B, while we’re
not
a couple, Dexter and I did meet last weekend when we were both out with friends.”

“I was out with Elliot’s friends.” He supplies reluctantly. “Elliot is a cousin.”

Aunt Bethany scrunches up her face. “Elliot? Is he single again? I thought he was dating Kara.”

“Nope. Single.”

“Good. Kara can do better.”

Dexter chuckles, a smile finally tipping his lips. “Yeah, that’s probably true.”

“Well,” Aunt B sighs. “Like I said, I better run.” She gives me a once over, eyes shining. “Hold on tight to this one, young lady. He’s a keeper.”

Daphne:
You’re never going to believe who I ran into at the movie last night
.

Tabitha:
Hold up. First tell me
who you went to the movies with, and what did you see?

Daphne:
StarGate. And I went alone, but that’s not my point
.

Tabitha:
You went to another movie alone? I told you to call if you did that! I would have met you there
.
No man left behind and all that.

Daphne:
You were on a date. Plus, I repeat: it was Stargate—you hate SciFi
.

Tabitha:
Like that matters. I hate when you go to the movies alone. Plus
,
I would have sacrificed Collin. He loves that crap
.

Daphne:
I do love you for that offer <3 Anyway… the news is that I ran into Dexter Ryan. He was alone, too, so…. (dot dot dot)

Tabitha:
Shut. Up. He is such a dork
.

Daphne:
Don’t call him a dork! He’s really sweet
and he saved me from myself. And my giant bucket of popcorn.

Tabitha:
What is it with you and popcorn? I can never figure it out…

Daphne:
It’s delicious.

Tabitha:
Alright, so you saw Dexter. I take it you sat with him? Was he as dull as he looks? He’s nice and all, but kind of boring, don’t you think?

Daphne:
No. He wasn’t dull. He was sweet and adorkable.

Tabitha:
You know, I should write a book about a hot nerd with a dirty mouth and a hot bod. Would you read it?

Daphne:
Shut. Up.

Daphne:
And yes. Yes I would read it…

“H
alyard Capitol Investments and Securities, Dexter Ryan speaking.” My brisk voice is clear, crisp, and to the point.

“Dexter Ryan, why are you answering your own phone?” My mother’s demand shouts at me from the other end of the line. “Where’s your secretary?”

For some reason, my mom loves boasting the fact that my firm appointed me my own secretary. Drives me crazy.

I sigh, swiveling in my desk chair towards the window and stare outside at the pond. “She’s at lunch, Mom. Occasionally I unchain her from the desk so she can eat.”

“I’m going to ignore your sarcasm young man, because I know you’re at work and don’t have time for a lecture.”

I know there’s a reason she’s calling…

“Who’s Daphne?”

And there it is.

“She’s a friend.”

Just a friend; a beautiful, vibrant, and funny friend.

“That’s not what your Aunt Bethany said. She said you had a
girl
friend. Why haven’t we met her yet? Quite frankly, when she told us she ran into you, my feelings were hurt.”

Another thing my mother loves? Guilt trips.

“Your feelings were hurt? Come on, Mom. Bethany was totally over exaggerating to get a rise out of you.” I pick up a pencil and start doodling circles on a notepad. “Wait. Who’s this
we
? What
we
are you talking about? Who did Aunt B tell?”

My mom hesitates a heartbeat, then drives home the kill. “Your sisters and I, Aunt Donna and Aunt Tory. We all happened to be together when B called.”

The Gossip Network of Ryan Women: once those five catch a whiff of chatter, you might as well rent a billboard in Times Square to broadcast your secrets.

Fuck.

Exasperated, I run a hand through my hair, tugging at the thick strands and releasing a loud puff of air. I can feel the ends sticking up in several places, but I’ll worry about that later.

“Mom. I’m sorry you’re upset, but I’m telling the truth. Daphne is just my friend. In fact—we’ve only met twice. I don’t know what B told you, but we’re not dating.”

My mom makes a sniveling sound, and I know she’s digging deep for a tear. “Dexter Phillip, don’t lie to me. It hurts my feelings.”

I lean back in my desk chair, balancing on the back wheels, and stare up at the ceiling. Breathe in and out. “Mom, what reason would I have to lie?”

Another sniffling sound, followed by a scoff. “You tell me.”

Drama, drama, drama.

“I—”

“B tells us you’re bringing her to Grace’s engagement party; she was
rather
pleased to rub the news in. You know I hate when she finds things out first; and about my own son?”

“Mom—”

“It would have been nice if I’d meet your girlfriend first, don’t you think?”

Resigned, another long puff of air leaves my throat, and I blow it out into the receiver. “Technically, yeah.”

“Bethany said she’s just stunning. A petite thing with the sweetest little Southern accent.”

A Southern accent?
Jesus Christ
.

My mom continues. “I’m not pleased you kept this from us and I had to find out from B, but Daphne
does
sound lovely.”

“She is,” slips out before I can stop myself.

Mom sighs one of those wistful, breathless sighs woman breathe when they’re overcome with joy. I roll my eyes and watch as the landscapers outside walk back-and-forth across the parking lot with leaf blowers. Another drives a riding lawn mower so fast through the grass it’s like he’s vying to race Danica Patrick’s NASCAR.

Grass flies everywhere.

“Come a little early, please, so she can meet us before we head into the party. I won’t get the chance to talk to her when we’re there. Gracie’s invited over a hundred people. Tory told me it’s turned into quite the circus.”

My cousin Grace has always been high-maintenance, so this news doesn’t surprise me in the least. Her brother, Elliot, is the dickhead who stood me up at the Wine Bar last weekend.

“Come early? Uh… that might be hard to swing. I’m pulling extra hours next Saturday.”

Mom sighs loudly, long-suffering.

“Just make sure you tell her it’s formal. I assume you’re wearing a suit?”

Silence.

“Dexter, are you listening?”

I glance down at the Blue Chip stock portfolios stacked on my desk. The three million plus dollar contract, open to its annual shareholder’s report, sits atop another one point five-million-dollar portfolio I manage.

Millions of dollars, dividends, and reserves; all whose investment future earnings rest in
my
capable hands while my
mother
lectures me on the phone about a girlfriend I don’t even have.

This irony is not lost on me.

“Yes, I’m listening.”

“Formal attire.” Pause. “And Dexter?”

“Yeah?” The pen in my hand stops drawing circles, and I flick it across the desk. It hits the hard surface of the wall, ricochets then falls off the far edge with a satisfying clatter.

“We’re happy for you honey.”

I can only grunt out a reply.

T
his is ridiculous.

I’ve been staring at my phone for the better half of an hour, debating my options about whether or not to call Daphne.