Page 32 of Tell Me All Your Lies

There’s something he isn’t telling me about his past with the Carolinas mafia, but I know, for the sake of finally catching the Kingpin, that I have to trust my partner.

I shiver at the thought of him, of all people, being my partner until death do us part.

“Who are you talking to in there?” Ruby asks.

I look over at my assistant and see an amused look. She often catches me in my head, playing out different scenarios.

“No one,” I finally answer.

I roll my eyes and focus on the store clerk.

“I’ll take this one, please.”

“Of course. I’ll be right back with the final total.”

Ruby leans against the glass case filled with different men’s wedding bands.

“Who would have guessed?” she asks.

“What?”

“I told you so.”

I cross my arms over my chest, confused by what she’s referencing.

“I told you that you were going to marry this man someday,” she teases.

“Oh, fine. You did. I’ll give you that. There’s only one problem.”

“What’s that?”

“This isn’t forever.”

“The multi-thousand-dollar wedding band sure tells a different story.”

Uncrossing my arms, I give her an annoyed look as I plant a hand on a jutted-out hip.

“I’m marrying him because it makes sense given our profession and the job we’re about to go out on. Nothing more or less. It’s a simple contract.”

“A simple contract,” she draws out.

“Yes. Plain and simple. As soon as the job is done, we’ll get it annulled.”

“Have you talked to him yet about this plan? Or how about the papers I had drawn up for you that you have refused to look at?”

The store clerk comes over, and I hand him a credit card without looking at the bill. I’m buying this ring regardless of its cost or anyone’s opinion. I can’t have my pretend husband wearing a ring that the agency gave him to wear.

“I don’t care if it makes me look dumb; I’d rather not bring up the idea of a prenup.”

“This marriage is just a contract; it isn’t one for love. You need to protect yourself and your assets.”

“Grant Sinclair may be a thorn in my side, but I trust him to do what’s best for me. He wouldn’t take all my assets or money.”

Ruby’s mouth tightens, and I know she’s debating whether to say what’s on her mind.

“Are you prepared for him to ask you for one?” she finally says.

“Here you go, Ms. Collins.” The store clerk hands me back my credit card along with a slip of paper to sign. Once I pass it back to him, he hands over the wrapped ring box in a black gift bag.

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