Page 13 of The Art of Deception

My brows furrow, but I shrug, pulling it out and unlocking it. Xander takes charge then starts programming his details. “There. Now you have my number.”

The corners of my mouth turn up. “Leaving it to me to make the next move, huh?”

Xander reaches out to grab my hand, his thumb caressing over the back of my skin. “I know you feel this. So call or text or GIF me. Whatever you want, just make contact.”

I try to hold my smirk. “GIF you?”

He rolls his eyes, his hand pulling back, then he whacks me hard on my ass. I jump slightly, letting out a small squeal.

My eyes widen as I glare at him. “Oh, the nerve. You wait, Just Xander, I’m gonnablowyour mind.”

“I’m counting on it.” He winks at me as I turn and head toward the shop. Everyone at the window watches us.

As I step to the door, I groan at them, then slowly turn back to Xander. As he revs his engine, I watch him pull on his helmet, dip his head, and then takes off into the San Francisco traffic like some bad boy made especially for me in my dreams.

Only this isn’t a dream—my bad boy is in real living Technicolor.

Holy shit.

Chapter Four

Alex

One Week Later

Last week, I gave Tomi my personal phone number. Since then, we’ve been texting back and forth. There was no way I was putting her number anywhere near my business phone. I don’t need her number showing up on the records, or worse for her to dig and find out where I work or who I truly am.

But through our texts, I’ve been finding out more and more about her history and what she likes. We’ve even talked on the phone after work when I’ve gotten home at a reasonable hour.

The thing is, though, she’s eager to learn about ‘Xander,’ but because it’s so hard to open up to her about me, I have to always turn the conversation around. I know she’s curious about who I am, about where I come from, about what I do, but if I give her any hints, she could run with it, and Tomi finding out now isn’t a possibility.

She needs to find out the right way.

But in saying that, without the truth, how can we truly be anything?

How can we go any further?

When she finds out about the real me, she’s going to be devastated. I want to see her again, but my father’s pushing deadlines. I need to get the designers to build mockups of how the new megacomplex will look when we start to build. The thing is, I don’t want any-fucking-thing to do with the design process. But my father’s adamant that if I am to head the company one day, something this huge on my resume will only be good for me.

So, I have to be involved.

Like I’m not already in deep enough with this fucking project.

Right now, I’m stuck in a boring-ass meeting about zoning. I know I should be listening. I need to be on the ball with all this shit, but my head just isn’t in the game. I worry about how it’s going to affect Tomi and Levi. She believes that I’m unaware of her family home still under mortgage or her income from Hope & Faith. Without the steady income from her tattoo studio, the house and Levi’s schooling are going to have to change. She doesn’t realize how deep my knowledge about her situation goes. This is why I’m so damn torn about all this. I realize this megacomplex is a great thing for the area, but the rent on a new shop for her is too high, and it will cut into the funds she needs to repay the mortgage and pay for Levi’s school.

But what if there were some way to help her?

I sit taller in my seat as some man named Greg stands with his shirt buttons done up on the wrong holes, talking about inflation as he scribbles on the smartboard.

My mind ticks.What if, in the new megacomplex, I purposely built a tattoo studio?

Regarding what Tomi would want, I could design it all and then make it more affordable for her.

Surely, I can work on that?

Loving my idea, I sit forward and rest my hands on the desk. Then I turn to my father. “The megacomplex is such a diverse area,” I call, grabbing everyone’s attention. Greg, the speaker at the front, stops mid-speech. I’d be sorry for interrupting him, but no one’s listening to his bullshit anyway.

Father raises his brow. “Say what you have to say.”

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