Page 27 of These White Lies
I want to be annoyed but there is something about his easy smile that makes me realize I’m enjoying the banter. “What kind of business?”
He makes a tsking sound. “Against the rules. I’m adding ‘no identifying details’ to our previous no-names rule.”
My mouth twitches. “Okay, Mr. Tall, Dark and Mysterious, but you realize that sounds like something a man with secrets would say.”
“Everyone has secrets,” he replies. “But strangers are better at keeping them. Particularly strangers in masks.”
I take a sip of the scotch, to avoid the sudden serious look in his eyes. “This might be the riskiest thing I’ve done in years.”
“Having a drink with a masked stranger?” His mask bounces again, and I imagine him waggling his eyebrows.
The laugh rolls out before I can stop it. “Yes. Believe it or not, I lead a very staid, controlled life.”
He cocks his head. “That doesn’t sound like much fun.”
My humor evaporates. “Fun is overrated. I’ll take peace if I can get it.”
“Not a risk taker then?”
“Used to be,” I evade. “But it’s been a while since I hid in a dark room.”
“You never said who you were hiding from in here.”
“I’ll tell you, when you tell me why you were sitting in here with only one lamp on?” I challenge.
“Fair enough. I’m in here because I was supposed to have a meeting with several people tonight, and they are jerking me around. More interested in drinking than business.” His smile is wicked. “Your turn.”
My heart skips a beat. I don’t want to tell him. It will put a pall over this moment, and I realize how much I don’t want that to happen. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this comfortable with someone. Appropriate he’s a stranger.
I must not have done an outstanding job of hiding my thoughts because his spine snaps straight, jaw clenching.
“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” The sudden shift in his mood is alarming.
His fierce gaze goes to the door, and his nostrils flare. “Did one of those assholes do something?”
My mouth falls open. “No, of course not.”Why would he even think that?
I can only see half of his face, but the way his jaw is flexing, he’s furious.
“I’m serious. No one did anything. I just didn’t…”Fuck it.“I didn’t want someone to see me.”
We stare at each other for several moments while he apparently decides whether or not he believes me before his shoulders drop. “Who?”
I sigh. “My ex-husband.”
“Not still friends?”
I huff a humorless laugh. “Hardly. And seeing as how he had his tongue down someone’s throat, I’m guessing he doesn’t want to see me either.”
I take another slow sip, letting the burn fortify me as the silence stretches between us.
“We should probably go,” I say eventually, glancing toward the door.
He leans a hip casually against the desk, studying me over the rim of his glass. “If you want to.”
I hesitate. “Maybe wait five minutes.”
His eyebrow quirked. “Why?”
