Page 24 of Tell Me All Your Lies

“But?”

“But I know them. Well. Not from afar.”

I breathe out a long wind of air.

“What are you saying?”

“If Dodger wants us to pretend to be married, then we have to commit.”

I glance around the room to buy time. What is he saying? Sensing my confusion, Grant runs his hand down his face. He looks pained to have to explain this to me.

“Collins. We need to get married.”

“What?” I practically shout.

“Yes.”

“Why? We aren’t going in as Cara Collins and Grant Sinclair. Why would we have to get married?”

“We need the paperwork. We can get it forged. I know a guy locally. But we have to get a marriage certificate. They’ll look into us if I’m coming back into the fold.”

“Okay, right, our aliases have to get married. Not actuallyus.”

“No, but…”

He stretches in the booth, and I take it as a stall tactic to gather his thoughts. It’ll be important to know his tells if we’re doing this for the next few months.

“I think we should get married in case things go poorly. We can’t testify against one another. Legally.”

“If things go poorly? Sinclair.”

I shut my eyes tightly before opening and looking up at him.

He looks tired, not because of the early hour but because of what this situation entails. It finally hits me. This isn’t just a contract for him either; Grant wants this just as much as I do.

“This operation will be the one that defines both of our careers. Despite our diverging interests most of the time, this one is different. We’re on the same team. With that comes complications.”

I lean back in the booth while weighing my options. Even though Grant Sinclair drives me crazy, I know deep down that he wouldn’t intentionally want to be married to me unless it was crucial to do so.

“Alright, Grant. We’ll do it your way. Let’s get married.”

FOUR

Grant

“Grant? Everything alright?”Luke asks.

I glance up at my friend, who’s waiting for me to tee off at this hole. We’ve somehow managed to keep this golf tee time together for the past decade. Once a month, we try to meet to play a round and catch up.

These days, my line of work doesn’t often interfere with it. I’m rarely gone for as long as I will be this time around.

“All good,” I answer as I line up my shot.

“Where is it you’re taking off to this time?”

“You know I can’t tell you.”

Luke chuckles behind me as I take my swing. The ball sails far, and we head into the golf cart to keep going.

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