Page 12 of Sinful Lies

She shot me a side-eye that could probably kill a man in two seconds, then dialed a number with all the enthusiasm of someone ordering coffee at a drive-thru.

When she got Mr. Lazzio on the line, her voice was stiff as she spoke into the phone, her tone clipped.

“Mr. Lazzio, sorry to disturb you, but there’s a twenty-three-year-old woman from Philadelphia here to see you. She’s really interested in the vacant curator position.”

Yeah. Philadelphia.

Never been there, probably never will.

No way I’d tell them where I’m really from—some secrets are better left buried.

No one can know my real motive.

She paused, listening to whatever he was saying, her whole face lit up with a devilish smile.

“Yes, sir, I understand.” She hung up and turned to face me. “He said no.”

I blinked, momentarily speechless. “No?”

This was a joke, right?

Christmas miracle? More like Christmas fucking nightmare.

Was the universe actually working against me?

She shrugged, arms crossed, clearly enjoying this way too much. “He said you’re too young, not enough experience, and that you’re not what he’s looking for.”

“How would he know if he’s never fucking met me?”

She didn’t even flinch at my crazy outburst, just stood up and gestured for me to follow. “Come on, Miss Whitenhouse, I’ll walk you out.”

I wanted to scream.

The nerve.

But instead, I clenched my jaw, stood up. Smoothing down my skirt as my coat fluttered open, I grabbed my bag and followed her. My heels clicked sharply on the floor, each step making me feel like I was walking to my doom.

When we reached the elevator, she pressed the button.

As the doors opened, she turned back to me with her insincere smile. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss?—”

“I’msosorry for what I’m about to do.”

Her eyes narrowed in confusion.

I didn’t waste a second.

I shoved her into the elevator with a force I didn’t even know I had in me, hearing a startled gasp escape her lips as she stumbled back.

Without another thought, I spun on my heel and dashed toward Mr. Lazzio’s office like it was the last bus out of hell.

“Miss Whitenhouse!” she screamed behind me, her voice echoing down the hallway, but I didn’t have time for that.

Not now.

I had more important things to do, like taking what wasmine.

With one last surge of adrenaline, I threw open the door to Lazzio’s office with enough force to make the walls shake. The door slammed against the wall.

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