Beautiful Liar (The Reed Rivers Trilogy 2)

I’ve rendered her speechless.

“Say yes, Georgie.”

She swallows hard. She looks deeply conflicted. Which is exactly as expected. Indeed, I fully expected and counted on Georgina’s conflicting emotions when I bought this necklace in the first place. “I can’t,” she says. “I mean, yes, tie me up. Please. I’ve wanted you to do that since you mentioned it the other night in front of your gate. But I can’t accept this gift from you. It’s too generous.”

“I won’t take no for an answer.”

She frowns. “The truth is, I can’t own thousands of dollars in rubies when my father is on the brink of losing his condo, any day now. If I took this necklace from you, I wouldn’t be able to resist selling it behind your back at my first opportunity, so I could give the proceeds to my father.”

I force myself not to smile. Damn, I’m good.

When Henn called this afternoon to give me the grand total of what Georgie’s father owes on his condo, and also to tell me that a third notice had just gone out to him from the bank—meaning the guy is mere days away from being foreclosed upon, I knew I had to act fast. But I also knew paying off the guy’s loan would be a bit tricky.

Georgie would never accept a straight-up check from me. That much I know. Nor could I anonymously pay off the loan. Georgie would instantly know who’d paid it... and then, quite possibly, quickly put two and two together, and think, “If Reed covertly paid off Dad’s loan, maybe he also covertly paid for Dad’s medication... and my salary.” Which, obviously, isn’t something I want Georgina to be thinking, especially now that I know the story of Mr. Gates.

But, still, there was no question I had to pay off that damned mortgage somehow, as soon as possible, but in a way that didn’t lead Georgina straight back to me. I needed a creative solution... a way Georgina would accept the money from me, in the first place, and also that wouldn’t make her suspect my prior “donations” to her and her father.

And then it came to me. A perfect solution. Don’t rich men impulsively buy the women they’re fucking sparkling baubles all the time? Isn’t that a trope nobody ever questions?

Now, granted, I’ve never bought a single piece of jewelry for any woman, other than my mother. Who, by the way, never wears the thing I bought her. But Georgina doesn’t know that. Indeed, as far as she knows, I’m the kind of rich dude who sees a sparkly ruby necklace in a window at Tiffany’s and buys it for his flavor of the month on the spot, just because he can. Georgina has no idea I’d never actually do that.

Although, come to think of it, maybe I would do that. Because, hell, I did. Today. Yes, my ultimate plan was to give Georgina a gift she could sell off, a gift that would yield the perfect payday for her and her father, without Georgina suspecting my endgame. But if paying off the mortgage had truly been my only motivation, then why did I buy this particular necklace—a piece of jewelry with almost triple the price tag of Georgina’s father’s debt? Why ask the saleswoman to see whatever pieces they had in the range of eighty grand, but then immediately ignore all the pieces she’d laid out for me the instant I happened to notice this particular ruby necklace, worth over two hundred grand, sitting in a display case on the opposite side of the store?

Obviously, when I bought the necklace, instead of one of the options in the range of eighty grand, I wasn’t thinking about the loan any longer. I wasn’t thinking about my brilliant plan. All that mattered to me in that delirious, impulsive moment was seeing Georgina open the box that held that particular necklace. All that mattered to me was seeing that particular necklace on Georgie’s slender neck, if only for one night, and having the pleasure of fucking her in my bed while she wore it. I knew Georgie wouldn’t keep the ruby necklace for long, exactly according to plan. But, in that moment, I knew seeing Georgina wearing the perfect necklace in my bed was worth far more to me than my two hundred twenty grand.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I feel terrible admitting I’d sell it. Please forgive me.”

I’m quiet for a long moment. Partly, because I’m pretending to process Georgina’s “shocking” confession. But also because I’m genuinely shocked. Not by the content of Georgina’s confession, but by the fact that she’s making it to me at all. Yes, I knew she’d sell the necklace. That was the point of me giving it to her in the first place. But I thought Georgina would take the necklace from me and then sell it behind my back.