Crown of Lies

He wouldn’t back down—I saw that now.

I’d done my best to be productive after he’d left, but my instincts wouldn’t stop ringing those damn awful alarm bells, and my mind ran in a panic trying to find a solution.

I’d told Greg I would fire him, but without cause, he could sue. Not to mention the mess it would cause between Dad and Steve.

They were best-friends. Such good friends, I honestly didn’t know whose side Dad would pick if I told him I wanted Greg dealt with and gone.

I sucked in a breath, trying to calm down. The stupid couture dress restricted my ribs from expanding. Once again, I’d been dressed in something against my will.

When I’d told Fleur to hold my afternoon meetings because I had to go monitor a lunch between my father and Penn, she shot down to the retail floor and returned with this dress, a lace scarf made from bohemian wool (whatever that was), and single stud diamond earrings.

My hair she left loose but added a few curls while the rest she straightened. It hung even longer than normal down my back.

“What are you doing here?” My father smiled, pulling out a chair and inviting me to sit. “Not that I don’t want you here, of course.”

I knew Dad would arrive fifteen minutes before Penn. He was forever punctual—to meetings or lunch dates, even the theater productions my school forced me to participate in when I was a child.

Penn would be on time, I had no doubt. But I would use these few precious minutes alone with Dad to my advantage. First, I would deal with Penn, and then I would deal with Greg.

Not wasting any time, I grabbed the yellow and green napkin and spread it over my lap. “We need to talk, Dad. Quickly before Penn shows up.”

His eyebrow rose. “How did you know he’s my lunch companion?”

“Because he told me. He mentioned I could join, so I’m not gate crashing without an invitation.”

His face melted with romance. “Ah, young love. He can’t stand to spend even a few hours away from you.”

Yes, that’s why he’s avoided me for three days.

I avoided telling him that, along with all the other secrets I suddenly seemed to have from my father.

Is that what lust and love do? Does it segment off a person’s life from shareable to private?

I’d been so open about my entire world before Penn came along. Now, I struggled for subjects that were appropriate.

Taking a sip of the water already sparkling in rainbow glasses, I blurted, “Penn and I aren’t really engaged—just like I’ve been telling you from the beginning.”

Dad froze. “What?”

“He lied to you. I have no idea what he intends to do or say today, but I wanted to tell you...none of it is true. If he starts telling you I’m pregnant or that we’re eloping to Cuba or I’m moving in with him...don't believe a word of it. Okay?”

His face turned white. He reached for his water.

Fear for his heart tried to gag me, to steal back what I’d said and tell him it was all a misunderstanding; that I was the one lying. Only, he shocked me by asking, “Could you be pregnant?” His eyes filled with wisdom he didn’t often let me see. For a man so successful in business, he embraced his kooky nature and whimsical fancy so much, he made me forget how intelligent he was—how no deal—good or bad—went through without his scrutiny. “Why would he lie about you being pregnant if there is no truth to you being together?”

My lips glued tight. I had no answer to that.

He lowered his voice, glancing at the other diners in the quaint restaurant that served healthy salads and light lunches. The ceiling had been painted with a rainforest canopy. The windows adorned with artwork of dangling spider monkeys while the occasional python dripped from a light fixture. “Be honest now, Bell Button.”

I shook my head. “I’m—no. We’re not together.”

“But you have been.”

“We’re not engaged. That’s all you need to know.”

“Not yet, anyway. I admit it was a bit quick, and I was going to address his intentions today and get to know him a little better, but you can’t deny you’re interested in him and he’s interested in you. It’s all over you, Elle.”

I didn’t like the sound of that.

What’s all over me?

The tension from dealing with Greg, or the apprehension from dealing with Penn?

I missed uncomplicated. I missed being alone without males messing things up.

Brushing aside that nasty revelation, I leaned forward. “If I ask you to do something for me...would you?”

He answered with no hesitation. “Anything. You know that.” He placed his hand over mine on my napkin. “Name it.”

“Hire a private investigator.”

“What?”

“Research Penn Everett.”

“Why?” His eyes narrowed. “Has he hurt you? Did something happen?” He looked me up and down as if he could see bruises and misdoings and was ready to shoot the guy in a wild west duel.

“No, but something doesn’t sit right. Something happened the other night. It made me think about the man I mentioned when I was arrested in Central Park.”

His body language shut down.

He removed his touch, sitting taller in his chair. “I thought we agreed that that nonsense was over. You did your best to find that boy. I shuttled you around law courts and police stations with nothing more than a vague description. I was patient, Elle. I went along with your desire to track him down, but we didn’t find him. I thought you’d let that go.”