Fat Cat Liar

A low, ravage growl escapes his throat, and his face flashes with the familiar possessiveness I’ve come to recognize. “Don’t fucking say that shit. There will never be another guy across the hall for you.”

“You don’t get to make that assumption, Lawson. Pretty sure your friend Kyra is waiting for you to return to your other apartment, seeing as how you uprooted your life with your dedication and need for isolation.” The words sear my tongue, thinking of the stunning blonde from earlier tonight.

“Kyra’s a greedy, social climbing bitch that doesn’t know how to take rejection. Everything she said to you tonight was a lie. She’s nothing to me, never was.”

I suck in a breath, a new chill sliding down my spine. “You heard her?”

“Yes, it took every ounce of self control to listen to her insane attempt to get into your head. It was a calculated play to manipulate your emotions.”

“Does she know about us?”

“No, but she knows about winning, and that was her attempt to get to your dad through you.”

“Seems like you have a lot in common then.”

“Don’t.”

“Why are you here, Lawson?” I repeat my initial question. “My guess is, next Monday, you will be a multi-millionaire. You got what you wanted. Now, you can move on.”

“I told you I gave it up. You are all that matters to me.”

I close my eyes, trying to block out the closeness of his body, the softness of his voice, and the urge to have his arms wrapped around me.

Betrayal.

Lies.

Deception.

The three words roll in my head, and I find the courage to press for the inevitable truth. To hear him admit his intentions so I can break the insane connection consuming me.

“Tell me, Lawson, am I everything you expected? A pampered princess that lives off Daddy’s money? A spoiled little rich girl whose social status is the most important thing? You move in, flash me your million-dollar smile, turn on the charm, and I fall at your feet? All the while, you can pretend to be interested in my life so you can use me?”

His face clouds with anger, his eyes flashing with irritation. “I fucked up. Any preconceived notions I had were erased the instant I met you. I

was not a good man, but you changed that. The money, notoriety, the fame—none of that matters anymore. The only thing that matters is you.”

“You expect me to believe that?” I shove his shoulder with enough force to allow me to duck under it and escape his closeness.

“God, Lawson, do you think I’m a complete idiot? Give me some credit. I don’t matter to you. I was a means to an end.” I get to the entryway to my kitchen and grip the countertop, needing the support. Waves of memories fly through my mind, and I suck in a breath to try and stop the emotions bubbling up.

Be strong, Greer. Get him out of here and then you can break down.

I spin to face him again, channeling every ounce of strength I can find. “You knew about my dad, and you knew about the money. What else did you know?”

“Nothing. Every day, I lived with the guilt, tearing myself up inside trying to find a way to tell you. When I figured out I was in too deep, I tried to leave you. Exposing the dirty details of the man I used to be was my best tactic. But I couldn’t do it. Because that man no longer existed.”

“Do you expect me to feel sorry for you? You’re a liar, Lawson. A scammer. You’re the kind of predator my friends and family have protected me from my whole life. There’s a reason I’ve remained anonymous in my dad’s world. The reason is people like you.”

Guilt and shame settle on his face. His eyes grow wide behind his glasses.

“Maybe I am an idiot. Those glasses, do you wear them often?”

“Not until I met you,” he admits.

“So, I am an easy target. Lavish dinners on rooftops, unexpected visits to my job, a romantic trip to your cabin in Connecticut, all complete with false promises of a future. I’m not sure what your goal was, but you certainly achieved it. You got me to share the most intimate details of my life, incorporating them into your project design. Meanwhile, I’m the chump falling in love with a man who isn’t real. An added bonus is you got laid. I certainly didn’t make you wait long. That must have been a relief.”

The guilt and shame fade, and his expression takes on a thunderous rage. He closes in on me in three steps, wrapping one arm around my waist and using his other hand to tilt my chin to face him.