Liar, Liar (9 page)

My eyes find what I am looking for, and I quickly shove the last bite of my salad wrap in my mouth before picking up my camera and snapping away.  Jennifer Hope, the wife of my client, David Hope, is currently being impaled by one of her husband’s employees on a washing machine in a public laundromat.  

Once I have enough photos for the case, I leave and make my way home.  I’m exhausted and ready for bed.  I have been following Mrs. Hope around since she left her house just after ten this morning.  It is now after midnight, and I’m beat.  I’m just glad I finally got the pictures I needed. 

Mr. Hope was adamant his wife was having an affair with one of his employees, but he could never catch them in the act.  I guess he didn’t think to look in a public laundromat at eleven o’clock at night.

After transferring the pictures to my laptop and sending them to my work email account, I fall into bed, and immediately, darkness overtakes me.

***

The minute I wake up with a pounding headache, I know today is going to be a shit day.

I shower and dress in a pair of tailored, white dress pants and a matching jacket with a turquoise blouse and black strappy heels.  I dry my hair and style it before letting it hang loose down my back.  Then I apply my usual makeup and I’m out the door.

Mitchell and Josephine are due back after lunch today, so I spend the morning typing up files before printing them out and assembling them in folders and filing them away for client meetings.  Once I have finished, I email Cara a list of completed cases and ask her to call each of the clients to make appointments for them come in at their earliest convenience to discuss their cases.

“Ms. Banks, do you have a moment?” Cara asks.

“Sure, come in.”

She enters my office and hands me a fresh to-go cup of coffee.

“Thank you.  What’s up?”

“When I returned from fetching your coffee, Juliette Maas was waiting out the front of the office.  She requested a meeting with you, which I denied.  I just thought you’d like to know.”

“Thanks, Cara.”

As soon as she leaves, I phone Officer Whitlock and we decide to move forward with a restraining order. 

Just after two, Mitchell returns to the office.

“Hi.”  I smile at my friend.  “How was your trip?”

“Successful,” he replies.  “Are you free?”

“Sure am.”

I follow him down to the conference room, and for the next four hours I catch him up on everything that has been happening in the past ten days. 

“So, I think I owe you dinner at
D’tre’s
,” I sigh dejectedly. 

“Oh, really.” He grins in triumph.  “I am awesome.”

“Don’t gloat, it doesn’t suit you,” I snap, but my tone lacks malice.

“You’re just upset because I won’t be buying you those shoes you wanted.  Don’t worry, Makenna, it’ll be Christmas in a few months,” he teases.

“They’ll be out of style by then,” I grumble.

We are interrupted by a tapping on the door.  I turn to look over my shoulder and see Cara poking her head through.

“Excuse me, Ms. Banks, you have a phone call.”

“Thank you, Cara.”  She gives me a small nod and then disappears back to the reception desk.

“I’ve got to head out.  I’ll see you tomorrow,” Mitchell tells me.

“Have a good night.”

I stand and make my way back down my office to take the call.

“Makenna Banks speaking,” I say efficiently.

“Ms. Banks, this is Regina Duncan calling.”  Realization dawns and my stomach lodges in my throat.

“Mrs. Duncan, lovely to hear from you.”

“I’m near your office, and I was hoping we could have an impromptu meeting.  I’d like an update on how things are progressing.”

“Absolutely.  I’m free now if you’d like to stop by.”

“Certainly.  I’ll see you shortly.”

I set my phone back in the cradle and take a deep breath to calm my nerves.  I have no idea what I am going to tell her.  I have nothing prepared.  If I am honest and tell her I have been sleeping with her husband for almost a month, then the truth will come out, my services won’t be required, and Benny will find out I was lying to him all along. 

I’m not ready for it to end yet.

My phone trills and I answer to Cara telling me Mrs. Duncan has arrived.

I stand and round my desk before opening my door to let Regina in.

“Mrs. Duncan, lovely to see you.”

“Regina, please.”

She takes a seat, and I pull out her file.

“Have you made any progress as yet?  I really need things to be moving along quickly,” she states hurriedly.

“Is everything okay?” I question.

“Yes, I’d just appreciate your full attention on me until you’re able to get the evidence I need.”

“I apologize for the delay, Mrs. Duncan, but I have other clients I am working for as well.”

“I’m willing to pay a substantial amount of money to have your sole attention, Ms. Banks,” she declares.  “I’m sure you can appreciate the delicacies of my situation, and the need to have it taken care of in a timely manner.”

Stop thinking about the money, then
, I want to bark at her.  Instead I smile and reassure her that of course I understand.

“My business partner is back from a work trip as of today, so I will be able to give my undivided attention to your case,” I assure her.

“Thank you very much.  My husband frequents a gym in this area.  Perhaps you could start there,” she suggests.

I know.  I fucked him there just last week.

“So noted,” I murmur with a nod.

“Good day, Ms. Banks.”  She stands and leaves the room while I let out a lungful of air in a rush.

I open my emails and click on the message with the pictures of Benny and me attached.  Some of the pictures were taken without his knowledge.  Those are the ones where we are in the moment, captured in the heat of passion.  Raw sexual desire pours from the images as I flick through them.

His hand on my ass.  My palm cupping his cheek.  His tongue snaking into my mouth.  My lips on his neck.  His mouth closing around my pebbled nipple.  Me sitting in his lap, naked, eyes closed, my head thrown back in ecstasy. 

My breathing catches in my throat as I stare intently at the picture of him taking me on my knees.  His fingers are digging into the soft flesh of my ass, my eyes are closed tight, my lips are slightly parted.  His jaw is clenched, his biceps straining as he pushes into me. 

My thighs clench together and I find myself becoming extremely aroused.  I have a sudden urge to run to the gym on the slim chance he may be there and willing to fuck me in the changing rooms again.

The other pictures in the email are ones I took just for me. 

Him on the treadmill at the gym, every muscle in his body working hard, his eyes focused and determined.

Him asleep beside me in my bed, his face relaxed, his hair tousled, my head on his chest, a smile in my eyes.

Me sitting on his lap, my head thrown back in laughter, his eyes on me, a grin on his face, his dimples showing.

I know I have fallen for him, but the longer I look at these pictures, the more real the knowledge becomes.  He looks so happy, so carefree, so relaxed, when he is with me.  I am even surprised by my own image in the pictures.  I look…
vibrant
. 

Knowing that soon all I will have of my time with Benny are these pictures causes my heart to pang.  As much as I want him, and I do want him, badly, the truth is he is a married man who will soon be going through a divorce, and I am a liar being paid to fabricate an affair with him. 

Turmoil swirls in my stomach.  Unease slithers up my esophagus.

The thought of letting him go kills me, but I know the reality of my betrayal will be unforgiveable.

With a defeated sigh, I close my computer down and give my desk a quick tidy before making my way out.

“Ms. Banks, Mr. Reynolds asked if you could give the conference room a once over before you leave,” Josephine mentions before I can leave the building.

“Sure,” I murmur.  I could do it in the morning, but I decide to do it now.  Mitchell and I both have early meetings tomorrow and making sure everything is in order now will allow me twenty minutes extra sleep in the morning.

My heels click as I walk down the hall to the conference room.  Mitchell’s door is shut and I know he has already left for the day.  The conference room door is slightly ajar, so I push it open and walk inside.  Mitchell has placed glasses on a tray in the center of the table, along with a jug that will be filled with iced lemon water in the morning.  A vase full of fresh flowers sits blooming on the table just down from the tray, and the fresh fragrance fills my nostrils.

“You’re here,” I hear whispered satisfactorily from behind me.  I spin around and almost choke on my breath when I see Juliette standing there.

“Juliette.  What are you doing here?” I gasp.

“You remembered,” she gushes.

“Remembered what?” I ask, perplexed.  “What are you doing here?” I repeat, my brows knitted in confusion.

“I knew you wouldn’t forget,” she sighs dreamily.

What the hell is going on here?

“I just knew you had a good memory.”

“Juliette, what are you talking about?  How did you get in here?”

“I had a dream about you,” she tells me.  Her face lights up in an almost eerie smile as her voice takes on a childlike tone.

“You didn’t forget.  You knew.  You
remembered.
”

I notice then that her hair and her clothes both look a little rattier since the last time I saw her.  Her face appears a little dirtier, and she has a tatted bandage wrapped around her left hand.

“Juliette,” I say cautiously as I try to discreetly distance myself from her.  “I’m feeling very confused right now.  Could you tell me why you’re here?”

“I knew you would make a good friend,” she states.  “I don’t have many friends.  People don’t like me.”  Her tone turns sad as her eyes glaze over and she trails off, lost in a thought or memory.

“I’m sure you have plenty of friends.”  I try to placate her.

“No, just you,” she says wistfully.  “You’re the only one.  My special one.”

“We’re not friends, Juliette,” I say gently.  “I don’t even know you.”

Her eyes sharpen, losing the glazed over look they had, and her lip curls.  “You
are
my friend, Makenna.”  Her tone is threatening.  A slither of fear slides up my spine.  “There are so many things I want to do to you, to your body.  Things I’ve dreamed about for so long.”  She eyes my breasts hungrily for a beat.  “Because you’re my friend you’re going to let me do things to you.  Taste you.  You’ll like it, I promise.”  Her voice alternates from being seemingly childlike to scarily inauspicious. 

It creeps me the hell out.

“I can’t wait,” she whispers.  “I’ve dreamed about you being naked for so long, Makenna.  I want to tie your wrists and your ankles to my bed so you can’t move around while I kiss you everywhere. 
Everywhere.
”  She licks her lips, lost in a wistful daze.  “I brought you a present,” she says, suddenly snapping back to reality.  She reaches into her pocket and produces a small blade that has my stomach turning.

“It’s really a present for me,” she tells me with a manic giggle.  “I’m going to use it to cut you.  But don’t worry, it won’t be deep, just enough to make you bleed,” she assures me. 

Like that makes it any better!

“Then I’m going to lick your blood,” she breathes.  “I’ve dreamed about that too.  I want to taste you, Makenna. 
All of you.
  Inside and out.”

“I’m not interested in women,” I tell her, trying for gentle, but I’m sure I fail.  My voice comes out harshly broken.  Terrified.

“You don’t know that,” she exclaims.

“Actually, I do,” I say.

“You will try this, Makenna,” she warns.  “If you don’t, you won’t like what happens.”

I’m too frightened to ask what will happen if I don’t try, so I keep my mouth shut, listening to the rapid thudding of my heartbeat in my ears.

“Ms. Banks, are you still here?” I hear Josephine call as she approaches the room.

Oh no.
  I’m not sure how Juliette will handle her arrival, and the last thing I want is Josephine getting hurt.

My frightened eyes skit from the door to where Juliette is standing to the blade held loosely in her fingers and back to the door again.

“Juliette, my receptionist is going to come in.  Is that okay with you?” I ask weakly.

“We’re friends.  Juliette and Makenna.  We’re friends,” she replies.  “Soon to be lovers,” she adds languorously.

“Yes, we are,” I lie, not bothering to correct her on the last part.  “Josephine is a friend, too.”