Page 3 of Losing Faith

The next ten minutes I sit with my soda and wait for my brother as I talk to Erin when she’s free.

“Is this seat taken?” A husky voice reaches my ears before a strong whiff of cologne hits me and I don’t know much about perfume, but I know whateverthatis, is expensive.

I turn to the side and a tall guy in a three-piece suit smiles down at me. It’s clear he’s not from here since he’s wearingthatin the cheapest bar in LA.

“No, go ahead,” I say in my best British impersonation before nodding for the seat.

He sits before holding a hand out to me. “Connor.”

I take his hand with a smile. “Lucy,” I lie.

He kisses the back of my hand. “That’s a beautiful name.”

They always say that. Where are you from, Lucy?

“Where are you from, Lucy?”

See?

I pull my hand away as I offer another smile. “Originally from Bloomsbury, but I moved here just over a month ago.”

Erin catches a part of my sentence and lets out a loud snort which she fails to cover with a cough.

Connor nods as if he’s paying attention, but his eyes are on my chest. “And what brings you to LA?” His eyes meet mine again for a brief second before they’re on my thighs, seamlessly pulling my jeans down with his eyes.

“She’s a Dodgers fan.” A familiar voice sounds from behind me and I shake my head when Connor looks up and practically drops dead at the sight of my brother.

“Sire Griffin?” He looks around the room as if to check that the rest of the bar also sees the LA Dodgers star pitcher. He stands from his seat and holds a hand out to my brother with a nervous laugh. “Holy shit. I’m a huge fan, dude.”

“Thanks, man.” Sire shakes his hand before his eyes settle on me. He focuses on me, analyzing my features before he leans over and grabs my drink.

“You could just ask, you know.” I point out, my fake accent still in play and a furrow grows in his brows.

He takes a whiff of my drink, the proud look on his face hard to miss. “Not asking saves you from needing to come up with excuses if youdiddrink.” He sets my cup down. “You’re welcome.”

I let out a scoff before hopping down from the stool. “You know I wouldn’t come up with excuses; I’d just tell you I simply wanted to drink.”

He lets out a low laugh as he sets down a fifty bill by my drink. I already paid, but I let Erin have the tip. “You have all your stuff?”

Before I can respond, Connor, who I forgot was still there, cuts in. “Sorry, do you mind if I get a picture with you?”

Sire looks like he’s about to agree when I cut in. “He can’t take pictures with fans after midnight.” I roll my eyes. “It’s some weird thing his agent is making him do, but if you’re here tomorrow say”—I glance at Sire—“5:00 p.m., you can get a picture and autograph?” I look back over at Connor and his mouth is agape, as if I just announced he won the lottery.

“Yeah, yeah, of course, five is perfect.”

“Perfect,” I exclaim. When his brows furrow, I realize my accent slipped. “You have a great night, Connor love.” I slip back into it and he only looks more confused but I grab Sire’s forearm, walking as drunk as I can a few steps away until someone calls me.

“Hey!”

I turn at the sound of Erin’s voice and walk back to the bar.

“Your sponsor is Sire Griffin?”

“He’s my brother, but yeah, the loser is also my sponsor. Please don’t befriend me for him, he’s married.” He isn’t, but with the way he talks about his girlfriend, they may as well be married with kids.

“Brother?” Erin glances between me with my pale skin and blue eyes before looking back at Sire who’s the opposite.

“We’re adopted,” I clarify with the short version of the very long story.

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