“And you knew who I was by my name when we met.”
“I did,” she admits. “The mob life doesn’t appeal to me in the slightest, so it wasn’t like that, but… I could understand if you had trouble believing that.”
“Does Laurel know?”
“No. I told her I was a club promoter. It didn’t make sense, but she didn’t question it.”
“Right. People tend to believe what they want to believe.”
Carly nods her agreement, but doesn’t say anything else.
“So, this Gavin Halstead guy…?”
“He was a client. Became an admirer. We started seeing each other regularly, but then he started to get angry that I was still seeing other men for work. It wasn’t as simple as quitting, and I didn’t want to anyway. I mean, I couldn’t. I didn’t have enough money saved yet. But things got intense and I had to cut ties with him. He didn’t handle it well.”
“And you’re sure Gavin Halstead is real and not a cover name for Mateo Morelli?”
She smiles faintly. “I’m fairly certain I know what Mateo Morelli looks like. Wasn’t him.”
“You’ve never slept with him? He’s never touched you?”
She draws across her heart with her index finger. “Cross my heart. I never had sex with your cousin.”
At least there’s that, I guess. Maybe she’s fucked a fraction of the other men in Chicago, but at least not that one. “None of my other relatives?”
“Nope. I tried to stay clear of the mobbed up guys, funnily enough.”
Sadness hangs in the air. I don’t know how to respond to what she just told me. It’s not that I judge her for doing what she had to do, it’s just that she’s been lying to me all along. And it’s an awfully big coincidence that a former Castellanos sex worker just so happens to show up at my apartment complex and decided to pursue me, even though she knew who I was and had made a habit of avoiding guys like me before.
Something doesn’t add up.
She’s leaving something out.
And if there’s something worse than all this, I’m not sure I want to hear it. She hasn’t fucked Mateo. That was all I needed to know. I need that to be true.
It’s a little fucking funny, though, that this is the first girl I’ve considered a girlfriend before I slept with her, and apparently every-fucking-body else already has.
“What are you thinking?” she asks me, quietly.
“Nothing very nice,” I say, honestly.
“That’s okay. I can take it. Get it out.”
But I don’t want to. I ignore her, and after a minute she rolls over on her side and tentatively curls up against me. I don’t move to reciprocate this time. I don’t know how I feel, and I don’t want to give her mixed messages.
“I really do like you,” she tells me. “None of this is fake. I wish I didn’t have to tell you this. I wish it wouldn’t change anything. I don’t know if that’s realistic, but… I really don’t want this to change anything.”
“Every time you’ve toyed with me now, it just…feels like you were doing a job.”
“But I wasn’t. When you had your fingers wrapped around my throat, threatening to kill me last night, I didn’t say that to you. I know this isn’t ideal and trust me, it isn’t something I’m proud of, but we’ve both done things we aren’t proud of. It doesn’t have to define us. I’m the same exact girl I was last night.”
“You’re not, though. That girl liked me for me. She didn’t start talking to me because I’m a Morelli. I don’t know how to feel about this.”
“I still like you for you. You think I’d be here telling you this if I didn’t? This isn’t information I ever planned on sharing with any man, ever. People tend to get a little judgmental when you exchange sexual favors for rent money.”
“It’s not the sex,” I tell her, finally looking at her. “It’s the lies. I hate liars.”
“I’m not a liar.”
“Just a person who tells lies?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “I already invested everything in a pretty little liar once, Carly. I went bankrupt. I can’t do it again. I can’t do that again.”
“There’s a zero percent chance I’m a Mia repeat,” she informs me. “I get that I must resemble her, but I’m not her. Your cousin is happily settled. I only like you, no one else. I’m not a cheater. I’m not a liar. I didn’t want to be… I did things I didn’t want to do because people with more power than me told me I had to. If anyone could understand that, it should be you.”
I do understand that, but it doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.
“Let me show you,” she implores. “You don’t have to believe my words. Now this is all out in the open, let’s just move past it. Put it behind us. Move on from the past and head into the future together.” She lifts her head, pointing at the wrapped present she brought over, abandoned on my dresser. “I still want you to come over tomorrow afternoon and do the Christmas photo with us. It’s sort of a spin on an ugly Christmas sweaters photo, but it’s more an inside joke sweater photo, and we found one that’s perfect for you. If you still want to be a part of it, open the present and come over wearing it. I think you’ll like it.”