Page 85 of Tell Me All Your Lies

“Looks like you won that battle.”

Heat simmers in Grant’s eyes, and I know there is so much we need to talk about between us. This isn’t the right time.

“For now.”

I swallow thickly as the announcer starts talking. Grant puts on his sunglasses and lets go of our embrace.

“Stay close.”

“I will.”

I take a few steps back to leave him to the game. Suddenly, a figure stands beside me.

“He’ll win.”

I look over my shoulder to see it’s none other than Cordelia.

“He will.”

“Confident. I like that.”

“He has more than skills.”

She chuckles softly.

“I knew I had a good feeling about you both. Ace’s past speaks for him. You, on the other hand, I wasn’t too sure about until I did a little check.”

“You ran a background check on me?”

“I asked around.”

Our eyes meet.

“And you passed, sweetheart,” she finishes.

Without another word, Cordelia focuses on the first round that’s getting underway. I do the same, knowing that all the steps we took actually worked.

Ace and Cara Weston are in as long as Grant can pass the final test and win this tournament.

The dealer starts the first round, and I focus on Grant. The way his demeanor completely changes when he’s in the game is alarming. It shouldn’t be, but all of this makes me wonder how much more there is to Grant Sinclair.

I want all his secrets for my own.

There are ten players at the table with a minimum buy-in of a thousand dollars for this first round. I can’t imagine where we’ll go from here.

As I scan the other players, I notice they are all wearing glasses or some type of facial coverings to try and hide their expressions.

I pause at one person who is wearing a black ball cap and no glasses—our neighbor Fred, whom we met at the barbecue. I chew on my lower lip, trying to remember his file.

Fred Jones. Single. No children. Living out in the suburbs of North Carolina. He’s involved somehow with all of this; I’m just not sure how yet.

Maybe if Grant wins, we’ll find out more of the intimate details of everyone’s roles.

He glances up at me and then focuses back on his cards.

What is a single man doing living in the middle of the suburbs like this? I’m not saying someone like him can’t, but given the neighborhood and the fact he’s here tonight, it just feels suspicious. Now that I think of it, Grant and I haven’t dived too far into his background outside of the norm.

Maybe we should if he’s one of the ten at the table.

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