Desperate Lies (Lies 2)

“You have to tell Nolan, though.” He steps back, leaning against the counter across from me.

“No way, you hired him. I’m not telling Nolan.”

“He’s my campaign manager. He needs to know your whereabouts in order to protect the campaign from any misunderstandings that may happen.”

I glare at Waylon. “I signed an agreement with you. There is nothing in it that says I have to be the one to arrange things with your employee. You deal with him.”

Waylon grins. “There is the woman I love. You know how much I enjoy your fiery spirit.”

“I’ll see you Monday. Take me out to dinner before the campaign event on Tuesday.”

“I have the perfect place.”

We exchange words back and forth with our eyes. Promises. Threats. Arrangements.

Our entire conversation is in code. Langston won’t know what we are talking about. And he definitely won’t know what we aren’t saying with our eyes and bodies.

But we know.

I nod.

Then, Waylon comes over and kisses me on my forehead. “I look forward to our dinner.”

I swallow hard, before forcing my body to breathe.

I’m doing this to keep control, to earn unlimited amounts of money. Waylon may not be perfect, but he’s not the devil. That label belongs to Langston.

There is a knock at the door. Waylon heads to the door and answers it.

“Come in, Maxwell. Liesel is almost ready. It seems you will be headed on a nice weekend trip.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And let me remind you if anything happens to Liesel or if her identity gets out, it will be you whom I take my wrath out on.”

“Understood, Mr. Brown.”

Waylon looks back and winks at me before he heads out to work.

“Where are we going?” Maxwell asks me as he enters my kitchen.

“Straight to hell.”

I pull my silver mask down over my face as Maxwell parks the car in front of Pier 40 at Hudson River Park.

“You sure about this, Liesel?” Maxwell asks with uncertainty in his voice.

I take a deep breath as I stare at the yacht tied to the pier. I hate the damn ocean. It reminds me too much of my past. Langston will always have the advantage on the water, but this weekend is about earning back power. And the only way to truly have power is with money. Once I have money, I’ll be back on equal footing with Langston.

“Yes,” I answer, stepping out of the car.

Maxwell steps out as well with his ow

n mask on. He’s in a tux, and a black mask covers his sculpted face, but it doesn’t make him any less intimidating. He extends his arm to me, so we look like a couple as we walk up the ramp to the yacht.

I’m wearing a long dark wig to cover my blonde. That, combined with the mask and my bare ring finger, will mean no one will have a clue who I am here. That is unless Langston decides to make an appearance. I could wear a full prosthetic, don a wig, disguise my voice, and he’d still know it was me. Our connection is too intense for him to not recognize when I’m in the same city, let alone the same yacht as him.

“Nervous?” Maxwell asks as we walk up the ramp.