Her Little White Lie (BWWM Romance) (2 page)

“Shh, I'll explain later. You just put your hand on my butt and walk off, nice and slow. That's it, nice and slow. No! Don't turn around. Just nice – and – slow.”

Once we had left the block I pushed Mikey's hand away.

“Would you like to tell me what that was all about?” he grinned.

“Oh Mikey, I didn't mean to gross you out. I got the evil Miss Poole on my back. She was trying to get me to work Christmas Day.”

“So?”

“So I told her I was busy and I was spending the day with my fiancé and his family.”

“What? Why?”

“I don't know. I don't know why I lied. Perhaps half of me wished it was true.”

We walked down into the subway. It was warm and loud. People pushed by us and we got separated once in a while. Mikey held my hand and guided me to our platform.

“Mom always told me that if you tell lies, they always catch up with you, Grace.” He had his hands wedged deep in his jacket pockets and was looking at me the way Miss Poole would do.

“It was out of my mouth before I could even think it through. I only have to pretend for one holiday and I promise never to lie again,”  I said, looking along the platform for our train. I could hear the sound of it reverberating down the tunnel, the pull of air gushing through the dark and whipping at our faces as the train rumbled in and stopped. The doors hissed open and people spilled out, bumping our shoulders and us bumping back as we tried to get on. We packed ourselves inside the carriage.

“I'm surprised at you, Grace,” Mikey remarked as we managed to find standing room together.

He put his arm around my neck like I was one of the guys, and we clung on to the bar for the rest of the ride home.

2

“Grace. Gracie. Come over here a second.”

Alicia and Suzette were two of the chambermaids I used to work shifts with in the old days. Since I started on reception I only saw them once in a while. But they stood behind the arched wall leading to the elevators and tried to attract my attention. Under no circumstances were chambermaids permitted into the foyer so my girls were just poking their heads around the corner, trying not to be seen and speaking in a stage whisper.

I looked up from the reception desk and mouthed, 'What?' to them. Suzette opened her mouth to whisper again but the phone rang.

“Great West International. Grace speaking, how can I help you?” I looked over at Alicia and Suzette and tried to wave them away.

“This is Mrs. Gorman,” the voice on the other end said. “I'd like to speak to one of your guests, a Mr. Steven Gorman, my husband.”

“Certainly, Mrs. Gorman, your husband is in room 303.” I put her right through. I knew the guy in 303, Mr. Gorman, booked in fifteen minutes ago with a red-head half his age, saying
she
was Mrs.  Gorman.

Alicia rushed over after I hung up.

“Girl, what you doing? You want to get fired?” I looked all around, making sure a supervisor wasn't nearby.

“Listen, I just heard from Damion. Is it true?”

“Is what true?” I also spoke in a stage whisper.

“You got engaged, bitch, and you didn't even tell us you were dating.”

“Oh that.”

“Yes, 'oh that'. When were you going to tell us? Just because we make beds doesn't mean we have to be the last to know.”

“When was that ever the case? We all know the chambermaids have eyes and ears in the back of their heads.”

“But we didn't know about this! Who is it? Bill on security? Justin in events management? Suzette said he was gay coz of how he walk, but I said that don't account for nothing these days. It's him, right?”

“Listen, you girls will get us all in trouble. I'll explain later. A guest.” I looked over at the hotel entrance.

Someone walked in via the rotating door. I was so relieved to see Mr. Iglesias with his walking stick, coming to the desk. He had saved me again.

“Buenos dias!” I said to him. “You took an early walk today.”

“Some last minute shopping, Grace. Have you finished yours? How about for you fiancé? What did you buy for him?”

Mr. Iglesias did not wait for an answer. I handed back his room key and he was on his way to the elevator.

That's when the lie hit me deeply. How could I have lied to the sweet, little Mr. Iglesias? He was always so kind and open with me. I looked over at him where he stood waiting for the elevator. I heard it arrive at the ground floor and open. Mr. Iglesias looked back at me before getting in and gave me a wink. I didn't know how to interpret it, but let's just say, I think Mr. Iglesias had just agreed to help me keep my secret.

I wish the same could have been said about Alicia and Suzette. I didn't dare go to the staff restaurant for lunch that day because I knew they'd be there waiting for an update on my relationship status. They would not let me alone until they'd heard all about my engagement. All I had to do was survive the holidays and then my fiancé and I could break up and no one would be any the wiser. It was fifteen days to Christmas and I had no idea what kind of hole I was digging for myself.

I tiptoed out of the hotel, hoping to grab a hot dog or a pretzel for lunch. Not healthy but anything to avoid the girls who, as luck would have it, just happened to be inches from the pretzel guy on third. They started waving frantically when they saw me, both of them devouring super-sized hot dogs with extra ketchup. It had to have been a set up.

“Ladies,” I said, trying to act casual.

“Sooo,” Alicia said and grabbed my left hand. “Let's see how rich this guy is. What? No ring, Grace?”

“I don't want to wear it to work. I might lose it.”

“And we wouldn't want that to happen, would we?” Suzette agreed, licking ketchup from her overly lipsticked lips.

“How long you been seeing this dude?” Alicia moved closer. I backed away and stepped on a passing terrier. It barked loudly and made me jump.

“How long?” I repeated. “Just six months.”

“Bit of a whirlwind, wouldn't you say, Grace?” Alicia stood holding the hot dog in one hand, onions dropping on the pavement at her feet as she looked me up and down.

“Well, you know,” I said. “Love works in mysterious ways.”

Suzette, stepped in closer. “And what's his name, huh?”

“His name?” My eyes drifted across the street. I had read that when people tell lies, it shows in their eyes. If their eyes go to the right, they're lying. I wasn't sure if I was looking left or right but I quickly looked back to Suzette who still had ketchup on the side of her mouth.

“Kucher?” I said.

“Kutcher?” she said. “Like the actor? Don't tell me you're engaged to Ashton Kutcher.”

“No, Red Kucher. Well, I call him Red because of his hair. He's real name is Mikey.”

“Mikey Kucher, huh? Sounds like a white guy. You engaged to be married to a white guy and you don't even have the decency to let us know. So what, us women of color not good enough for your little white boyfriend.”

“Come on, Suzette, since when you been a racist?”

“I'm not, I'm just saying. It woulda been nice to have been told.”

“So, you'll be bringing him on Thursday, right?” Alicia said.

“Thursday?” I was confused.

“Yes, the staff Christmas party is at six pm as always. Banqueting suite on the top floor. The only time us back room workers get a chance to walk among you high and mighty front liners at the expense of the management.”

I had forgotten all about the party. Everyone went to the party. Even me. Although, I usually only popped my head around because I made sure I was working that night. But Thursday was two days away and it was my day off. I had no excuse. But, what if my fiancé was working that night?

Before I had time to come up with a story, Miss Poole stopped inches away from us.

“Now ladies, there's a perfectly healthy restaurant back there.  And you choose to stand on the street eating food that will not only make you fat but give you a heart attack.” She pursed her lips together.

“Oh, Grace was just telling us she's bringing her fiancé to the party on Thursday.” Alicia grinned.

My mouth dropped open but Miss Poole's face lit up.

“Splendid, Grace. We all can't wait to meet him.” She slipped off then, through the crowd. I turned to the girls but they were already making their way back to the hotel.

I kept on standing there for a further five minutes as people bumped and barged by me on their way to a million and one important places. They caused a blur in front of me, beside me and all around me. I looked up to the sky, if there was ever a moment a UFO could arrive over New York and transport one unsuspecting citizen up to their ship, that should have been it and I should have been that person.

Someone stepped on my toe and someone shouted, “Hey, quit blocking the sidewalk, freak!”

So I limped back to the hotel and aimlessly wandered the back corridors until my lunch break was over, then put on my biggest smile and went back to the desk, hoping an idea would come to me, or a white guy called Red would walk into the hotel to get a room and ask me to marry him.

3

Mikey wasn't outside the hotel waiting for me, I knew he had taken the day off. He sent me a text to say he was getting a cold and wouldn't meet me after work because he was staying in bed. As soon as my shift finished I rushed down to the subway. The Brooklyn streets were growing dark but were still busy. I stopped off at Dooley's to buy some soup for Mikey. I figured if anyone knew a way to get me out of this, then it would be him.

When I got to his apartment I could hear lots of loud male voices. The television was up high and they were all talking at the same time. Mikey shared his apartment with Frank and Stewie, but it sounded an awful lot like I'd just arrived at one of their all-nighters, where a bunch of their friends piled over and ended up crashing on the one battered sofa they had.

No matter how loudly, I banged on the door I could not make myself be heard. I began shouting Mikey's name and banged some more.

“Hey Gracie.” Frank came out wearing a Giants cap facing the wrong way. “You come to watch the match?”

“No,” I stood on tiptoes to look over his shoulder. He had his arms crossed and was leaning against the open door frame, looking me up and down like I was supper and he had been starving for a week.

“You looking for your homeboy?” His eyes kept devouring me and he still hadn't stepped aside.

“Is he in?” I asked.

“Mm-hmm. But, is there anything a brother can do to help out this fine Nubian princess?”

“The only thing you can do, Brother, is step aside and let me through. How's Barbra, these days? She dumped your ass yet?”

He stepped aside as the rest of the guys laughed at him and threw pillows at his head. They couldn't miss.

“Mikey!”

Mikey sat in the middle of the sagging sofa with a bottle of beer in his hand and the remains of a packet of chips over his crumpled t-shirt.

“Grace, move aside, grab a seat. The game is about to start.”

“I need to speak to you, Mikey, do you mind?”

“Grace can't it wait till half time?”

I moved away from the television but by only a few steps and waited with my arms crossed.

Mikey blushed, put down the bottle of beer and got up slowly.

“Owned!” they shouted and threw broken potato chips at him.

“Come into my room, Grace.”

He led me into the disheveled pit he called a room. The bed was unmade, there was a pile of clothes about three inches high that covered the floor so the rug underneath couldn't be seen at all. There was an odd smell of petrol wafting up from somewhere which meant the whole block could have gone up in flames at any moment but I was too afraid to ask what it was. The side table by the bed had three open books on it, a magazine, two empty glasses and a torch. The table lamp was turned over on the floor and there was something green and lively in one of the glasses. The curtains were still closed.

“I thought you were sick?” I turned to him.

“So did I, but when the guys said they were coming over to watch the game I suddenly felt better.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“I was worried about you. I bought you soup.”

“Great, I'm starving.” He undid the top of the silicone mug and drank the entire contents of beef broth without stopping. “Great, did you bring croutons?”

“No I didn't bring croutons. Why did you lie? You know if you keep taking days off like this, you'll lose your job and how you gonna pay the rent on this little penthouse suite you got going here? And when the hell are you ever going to clean up this place.”

“Grace, stop sounding like my mom. Is that why you came? To soften me up with soup and then attack me?”

There was a loud cheer from the other room. Mikey looked at the closed door with a sad expression.

“It's all right,” I said. “I can see you're busy. I better go.”

“No, no, no, no, no. Don't go. I don't even like the Giants. You know I'm a Bears fan all the way. You look kind of down. Let me clear a space for you to sit.”

He pulled the sheets over the bed and waved a hand for me to take a seat.

“Do I have to sit on your underpants, Mikey?”

“Oh, sorry.” He bent to pick them up off the bed and threw them across the room so that they landed on a pile of CDs. “It's okay, they're clean.”

“How would you know?”

“Grace!”

“I'm sorry.” I sat on the edge of the bed and he sat beside me.

“Tell your uncle Mikey all about it.”

“Mikey, I'm in big trouble. You know how I told you about my fiancé?”

“He wants to break it off with you – I'll kill him.”

“This isn't funny. It's the girls at work. They've gotten it into their heads that he's coming to the Christmas party.”

“I see?”

“No, you don't. They'll all be waiting for this guy called Red to show up with me and if I turn up on my own, they'll all know I've been making him up.”

“I told you, Grace. I told you lies would catch up with you.”

“Don't, Mikey. I can't face going in again. What if I call in sick and say I caught something off my boyfriend and we're both laid up in bed?”

“Or you could go in and tell everyone the truth, you made it up because you don't want to work Christmas and why you should, when you been working every Christmas for the last six years. No one can be mad at you for that.”

“Oh, Mikey. If only you knew what it was like. The girls would laugh at me, Damion and Ramon would use this against me for the rest of my life. That's it!” I got up abruptly.

“What's it?”

“I'm going straight out of here and I'm going to throw myself off the Brooklyn Bridge.”

“Gracie. Don't be so dramatic. Can't you find someone who can pretend to be your boyfriend for one night?”

There was another loud cheer from the guys in the other room. Mikey smiled, looked at the door and then back at me.

“Oh no. Not one of them.” I started waving my hands.

“Why not? I'm sure Frank would love to go to a party with you.”

“I'm sure he would, but they think my fiancé is white.”

“White? What did you tell them that for?”

“I didn't. They dragged this made-up guy out of me and he came out white with red hair, I call him Red but his name is Mikey. Mikey Kucher.”

“Wait a minute, he's got red hair and his name is Mikey. Grace, are you secretly obsessing over me?”

“Don't flatter yourself. You're not a
redhead
.”

“But, I'm a strawberry blond, you said so yourself. Do you want to marry me, Grace?”

“No I don't want to marry you but...”

“But what?”

“What about it, Mikey? You do it. You pretend to be him.”

“I can't, I'll mess it up. I've got terrible social skills. You know that.”

“Mikey, I wouldn't ask unless I was desperate. It's you or the Brooklyn Bridge. You decide my fate, Mikey. If you say jump, I'll jump.”

“Jesus Christ, Grace. All right, I'll do it. But you owe me, big time. You got that?  And if it all goes horribly wrong, you've only got yourself to blame. Okay?”

“Okay!”

I threw my arms around Mikey and spotted a few broken corn chips in his hair. I flicked them away and kissed his cheek.

“Quit it, Grace. Now make yourself scarce. I've got a game to watch.”

“I love you.” I opened his bedroom door and blew a kiss. The other guys started punching Mikey in the arm, calling him a nasty freak and asking him to have his booty calls after the game in future.

I closed the door behind me and breathed a long, deep sigh of relief. I had a fiancé. All I had to do was get Mikey ready and presentable in two days. Another loud cheer went up in his apartment and I wondered what the hell I thought I was thinking. Mikey would never be ready.