Lies Lovers Tell (17 page)

His recovery was quick, nearly flawless.

“Okay, it was a lucky guess. Who doesn’t like blueberries?”

As they enjoyed dessert, Sam shared with Maya his plans for gaining a foothold into the L.A. real estate market. That instead of focusing on what the major players considered prime—downtown, Westside, Beverly Hills, Malibu, etc.—his concentration would be on surrounding areas, including central and northern California. Conversation became effortless as they discussed a world that both enjoyed.

Coffee was served, and along with it, a brilliant West Coast sunset. “Join me, Maya” Sam said, as one used to giving commands. But his was a gentle persuasion, a hand on her chair to prompt her up. “Bring your coffee. We’re just going down the path a ways.”

There it was again, that vulnerable feeling as she walked next to Sam, his bulk seeming to swallow up her svelte figure appearing even smaller in the little black dress. Thanks to the high heels, at least he didn’t tower over her. They took a short yet winding path that ran down and around the curve of the house. At the bottom of the incline was another sitting area with a glass bird fountain and an old-fashioned swing supported by a U-shaped steel beam.

Maya’s heart warmed at the sight. On the few times she and Stretch went to visit their grandmother in Texas, the swing on her front porch had been the favorite attraction. She and her brother would hop out of the car, miraculously revived after a twenty-four-hour drive, hop up on the wooden swing, and keep it moving until they fell asleep. Without thought, her hand went to the locket around her neck, the one with her mother’s picture inside. Inexplicably, she began to tear up and before she could wrap herself up in the professional persona she wore so well, a couple of drops spilled over onto her cheeks.

“Maya?” Sam asked as he turned around. He’d been watching the sunset and hadn’t witnessed her initial reaction.

Maya quickly brushed the tear from her cheek.

“Maya, are you all right?”

Maya sat down in the swing, looked out over the sunset, and tried to find her jovial nature, the sassy one who was supposed to be going toe-to-toe with Sam. And the one who needed to remember why she was with Sam Walters—because she was on a mission. “If I didn’t know better,” she purred, “I’d think you’re trying to set a certain mood, Mr. Walters.”

Sean sat down and placed his arm across the back of the swing. “It’s Sam, remember?” His voice was low and comforting when he spoke, the British accent not so pronounced.

Maya shifted so she was facing Sam. “Right, Sam.” Her voice was as whispery as the orange, pink, and purple streaks of color painting the western sky.

It took Sean about zero seconds to decide to kiss Maya as Sam. In fact, there was no thought process to it at all. It was the most natural thing in the world.

Maya kissed him back. As the kiss deepened, so did her intuition. She’d dismissed the disturbing thoughts during dinner but could no longer deny what was right in her face, actually on her lips: his kiss. There couldn’t be two pairs of lips like this. She continued to kiss him, her rising anger at his duplicity matching the heat from his swirling tongue.

But she kept her cool. She had to be sure. Turning slightly, she ran her hand up his arm and around his neck. The kiss deepened and Sean forgot all about the tentativeness he should have put forth as Sam. Their tongues did a familiar dance, even as he felt Maya’s fingers on his neck, moving toward his hair.

My hair? Damn! She’ll know it’s a wig!

Sean ended the kiss and pulled back from Maya. But when he did, he left something behind. She jumped up angrily, shaking Sam’s afro in his face.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Sean? All this time, when you knew I was trying to find out about the mysterious Sam Walters, driving myself crazy to end this insanity. And all the time…this?”

She threw the wig on the still swinging swing. “You know what? It doesn’t even matter. I’m done with the madness. And with you.”

She turned and hurried up the walkway, as fast as she could run in three-inch heels.

Sean hurriedly followed, leaving the wig behind to watch the sunset by its lonesome. “Maya! Maya, wait!”

He didn’t catch her until she was inside the house. She rushed to her purse, and was calling 4-1-1. “Yes, give me the number to a cab company. Any cab company! Quick!”

Sean raced toward her, struggling to take the phone.

“Get away from me, Sean!”

He snatched the phone. “Not until you hear me out.”

“There’s nothing for me to hear.”

“You may not think so but I’ve got something to say. All you need to do is listen. Then I’ll give back your phone.”

Maya stood with back straight, legs apart, arms crossed, and a glare that would melt an Iceland glacier. Sean had never seen sexy look so good.

“Maya, it’s been agony to keep this from you. But it’s because of how much I care about you that I’ve had to be so cautious. The most important aspect of my assignment is not B&A or Rosenthal or uncovering corruption or securing real estate. It’s you.”

“You keep talking this way and it only confuses me more; about my protection, my safety. What’s going on? Is someone after Zeke? Trying to destroy the B&A offices? Is there a potential bomb threat or a kidnapping plan?”

Maya paced the room as she continued talking, partly accusing, partly thinking out loud. “I know this involves Angel’s Way, and I know that when you’re talking about a multi-billion dollar project, the competition is fierce, fearless, ruthless. But is there something even more dangerous going on with these players? And if there is, don’t you think it best that I know?”

Sean sighed. “Come sit down with me, Maya.”

“That’s okay, Sean. I can hear fine standing.”

Sean walked over to the couch and sat down. He was silent for a long moment and when he did speak, chose his words carefully.

“There are rumors about a hit being put out on somebody high up in the business community. My sources haven’t confirmed that it’s one of the players in this real estate game, but instinct and experience tells me it very well could be. I’ve uncovered some pretty unsavory practices with the Rosenthal Group and know from personal conversation that Joseph will stop at nothing to get that job.”

Maya walked over and sat in a wing-backed chair opposite Sean. “What about Zeke? What have you found out about him?”

“Look, nobody gets to where Zeke is without stepping on heads. He’s done his share of dirty dealings but I have to give it to him, he’s a smart businessman, knows how to handle his maneuvers to where he stays within the shadows of the law. And where he doesn’t, well, money can talk pretty loud to someone you want to keep quiet.”

“So you’re investigating B&A and Rosenthal? Are you investigating me too, Sean?”

Sean leaned back. There was no way what he had to say would sound good. “I looked into your background a bit, in the research I conducted before coming here. It was part of my job, Maya.”

Maya was crushed, but refused to let Sean know how much he was hurting her. She allowed the anger that accompanied that hurt to prevail. “And what about after I became more than a job, Sean, why couldn’t you tell me all of this? What do we have if we don’t have trust?”

It was Sean’s turn to get angry. “Do we have trust, Maya? Is that why I didn’t meet Maya until weeks after I’d fallen for Macy? After the holiday weekend, and all the nights we spent together? There were plenty of times you could have told me who you were, and that you worked for Zeke.

“And what about your charade? You seem to forget that Martha wasn’t revealed during a private conversation between us, but during a conversation that Zeke initiated. That’s when I understood how caught up you were in all of this, and how dangerous it could be if the wrong person thought you had information they needed. I figured the less you knew about my investigation, the better.”

Sean walked over to Maya, pulled her up from the chair and looked her straight in the eye. “The announcement of who got awarded the Angel’s Way project and my investigation will be over very soon. I was going to tell you everything then, when all of this madness had ended and I knew you were safe.”

Maya couldn’t think when she was so close to Sean’s heat; his velvety chocolate bedroom eyes and lush lips. She tried to step back but Sean held fast to her hands.

“Don’t you believe me, baby?” he asked.

“I’m so confused, I don’t know what I believe. Why are you here as both Sean and Sam? Since you’re an investigator, why are you trying to connect so solidly with the real estate crowd? Couldn’t you have done that as Sean? And speaking of real estate, what about the files in that office?” She tilted her head in the direction of the once off-limit space. “When I was in there I saw information on buildings downtown and elsewhere. I’d only begun to scan them when you busted me that day, but they looked legit. Are those files merely window dressing, or are you really in the game?”

“I’m in the game,” he said simply. It’s all he could say. He didn’t want to lie and for now, couldn’t tell the total truth. “Trust me for just a little while longer, Maya. And then I’ll tell you everything.”

“I want to trust you, Sean. But I have to ask. Professionally speaking, whose side are you on, Rosenthal’s or B&A?”

“I’m on my side, Maya. And if you’re smart, which we both know you are, you’ll be on your own side as well. At the end of the day, everybody is looking out for number one. Zeke would sell you for a dollar if he thought it meant a billion more.”

“You don’t even know him!”

“But I know men
like
him. I’m not saying he doesn’t appreciate you, Maya. I’m sure he does. But he didn’t hesitate to pull you out of the office and into a maid’s uniform, did he? I’m just suggesting ‘to thine own self be true.’ No one is going to care for you as much as you.”

“But how can you sit there all self-righteous when you’re playing two companies against each other?”

“Everybody’s grown in this game. All my cards are on the table. Rosenthal knows I’m dealing with B&A and vice versa. I also know they have no loyalty where I’m concerned, hence your temporary side job. Speaking of which, you saw me here the other morning, didn’t you? In the master bedroom?”

Maya didn’t know how much she should share of what she knew with Sean. Hadn’t he just basically said to trust no one?

But her face must have told the story. Because Sean’s laugh started out as a chuckle and ended in a guffaw.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“You,” he said, wiping his eyes. “I can only imagine what you thought when you came up those stairs and saw my naked ass in another man’s bed. What, you thought I was gay, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t know what to think.”

“Yes, you did,” Sean said, laughing again. “You thought me and old Sam were homos. I remember it now, your sarcastic comment in that meeting, asking just how
close
I was to Sam Walters.”

“Yeah, well, now I can see you’re closer than any of us would have guessed,” Maya retorted. But she couldn’t help smiling. This conversation was starting to feel too good, too much like the kind she had shared with Sean when they first met. From the beginning, they could talk about any- and everything, in conversations that flowed like water. She started remembering other things that felt good between them, other areas of their relationship that happened effortlessly. She looked up to catch Sean watching her intently. Her eyes drifted to his lips, which he licked unconsciously.

“I’ve got to go, Sean,” Maya said, getting up from the sofa. “Should I call a cab?”

“No, I’ll call the driver.”

There was an awkward silence after he placed the call. Maya returned to the wingback chair while Sean sat on the sofa; a coffee table, a spray of orchids, and a long list of lies between them.

“Are you going to tell Zeke what you know? About me being Sam?”

Maya stood and paced again. “To think Zeke’s instincts were spot on. He just knew there was something about Sam Walters that wasn’t quite right. And now that I know it’s true, and it’s
you
…this is all so complicated. And it’s not just about me and you.”

She turned and looked at him. “Okay, maybe there are a few things you still don’t know about me. And one of them is that I owe Zeke, in more ways than I can explain right now. Helping Zeke secure the Angel’s Way deal is about more than my ambitions.”

“Is it about Malcolm?”

“How did you know my brother’s real name?” Then she remembered. He’d background checked her.

“Look, Sean, just leave my brother out of this.”

“You better make sure he leaves himself out of it.”

“What are you talking about?”

Sean’s phone beeped. “The car’s here.”

“What do you know about my brother, Sean? Talk to me!”

“Trust works two ways, Maya, and so does this relationship. You can’t have everything your way, you’ve got to give to receive. And you’ve got to decide who you’re going to trust.”

Maya’s mind was spinning. What could Sean possibly know about Stretch? Would her brother talk to her, tell her what was going on? She stood, took her purse from Sean, and started to walk around him. He stepped in her path, so close she could feel his breath on the side of her face.

“Even with all that’s happened, I’m glad I saw you tonight. And I’m glad you know about the Sam Walters persona. I trust you, Maya. And I hope when this crazy mess is over, you and I will just be getting started.”

He enveloped her tightly in his arms but resisted the urge to do anything further. He’d told Maya everything, laid his cards on the table. The next move would have to come from her.

Maya closed her eyes, basking in the feel of Sean’s arms around her. She hated to admit it, but she was in love with this man, had known it since the fireworks they created in July. But being with him might mean risking everything she’d worked so hard for. Erasing her indebtedness to Zeke and securing her future financially were tangibles she felt she could somewhat control…love was not.

“Is this good to you, baby, is this the way you like it, huh?” Tony’s drawl was low and slow as he continued his rhythmic assault on Trish’s body. Her guttural moans were her only answer. He placed his hands beneath her, pressed them tighter, plunged deeper, withdrew to the tip before plunging in again and picking up the pace. Trish felt an explosion building, starting at the balls of her feet and pooling deep in her soul as she matched Tony’s movements thrust for thrust. They both cried out and rode the wave of ecstasy together.

“Ooh, baby,” Trish panted, trying to catch her breath. “That was amazing. I love it when you do it to me like that.”

Tony turned to face her and sat up on one elbow. “Don’t I always do you like that?”

Trish kissed his face, now covered with a slight layer of sweat from their exertions. “Yes, baby, you’re always amazing.”

After her breathing returned to normal, Trish pushed the sheet back and prepared to get up.

“Where you going?”

“To take a shower. And then I’m going to fix you breakfast.”

Tony swatted her booty as she walked by him, then watched as she pranced naked into the bathroom. He lay back and smiled, thinking about how he and Trish had almost been twenty-four-seven the last few days. He was glad they’d gotten their relationship back on track; he’d almost ruined it by badmouthing Trisha’s chicken-selling gig. Now that they’d talked about it, he had a better understanding of what she was trying to do…of how this job was helping her paint the big picture. He wondered whether she would understand the gig he was painting on his canvas.

If everything went according to plan, she’d never know. And after this job, he was getting out of the game for good, maybe move him and Trish to the valley, the suburbs; live like regular folks.

“Dang, baby, you smell good,” he said as he passed Trish on his way to the bathroom. He tried to grab her but Trish scooted past him.

“Uh-uh, Tone, I just cleaned up.”

Trish turned on the stereo and danced into the kitchen, jamming with India. Arie’s new single note for note. She busted a quick dance move in the kitchen before reaching in the refrigerator for bacon, eggs, frozen hash browns, and milk for pancakes. She was going to make a feast for her and her man; between last night and this morning they’d worked up quite an appetite.

Trish was happy; for the first time in a long while, everything seemed to be going her way. She’d shot her first national commercial and secured an agent in the process, was mere months from being able to leave her temp agency and the string of low-level jobs they sent her on, plus she was dating one of the finest brothas in all of L.A. She’d even begun thinking they could be long-term. True, he was a gangster and as such probably dabbled in a few illegal activities from time to time. But it was hard to find good, gainful employment with a felony record. Sometimes it seemed hard to find work as a Black man period. She’d shared her concerns about his lifestyle and he promised her he “wouldn’t bring trouble to her house.” There was something he had brought to her, however, happiness. And that was something she hoped would stick around.

Trish stopped daydreaming long enough to not burn the bacon, then went back to thinking about Tony. He seemed excited about some new venture, one he said would change both their lives for the better. When she pressed, he clammed up, said it was a surprise. Trish smiled. She loved surprises, as long as they were good ones.

“Baby, you’ve got it smelling good in here!” Tony said, as he walked past her with pecs rippling and teeth gleaming. “Are those from scratch?”

“Uh-huh, from me scratching open that Aunt Jemimah box and adding milk and eggs! Here, Tone, before it gets cold.”

Tony devoured half of the food on his plate and washed it down with a glass of orange juice. He rocked back in his chair, looking appreciatively at Trish.

“What?” she asked, tingling from his stare.

“What would you think about living in the valley?”

“I don’t know. I guess it would be all right, except in the summer when it hits triple digits over there. And earthquakes happen over there too.”

“Earthquakes don’t just hit in the valley, baby.”

“The last one did.”

“Which is why the next one will probably split south central down the middle.”

“Tony, don’t talk like that. I won’t be able to sleep at night.”

“I’ll make sure you’re good and sleepy every night…trust me on that one.”

Trish laughed, taking Tony’s hand, dipping a finger in the syrup on her plate and then licking the gooey juice off, nice and slow. “I trust you,” she said coyly. “So what part of the valley would you like to live in?”

“Out there by Woodland Hills maybe, or Calabasas. One of those big-ass houses with a pool and basketball court.”

“But not too close to Simi Valley. We’d be getting pulled over every five miles.”

“
I’d
get pulled over. You’re too fine for them to pull you over. Besides, they don’t stop females, only brothas.”

Trish couldn’t argue with that point. She’d never gotten pulled over but male friends of hers were stopped all the time.

“What kind of car do you want, baby?”

Trish didn’t hesitate; she thought of a new car every time she saw the oil stain under the one she now drove. “An SUV, either a Toyota, or the other day I saw this cute Kia…”

“A Toyota or Kia? Baby, you gonna roll with the big boys you need to be stylin’ in a Lexus, Escalade, something like that.”

“Yeah, and then I’d be stylin’ in those four-hundred-dollar payments and one-fifty-a-month insurance payments. No, thank you. I’m not trying to spend my money as fast as I make it.”

Tony didn’t tell her, but he didn’t plan on Trish spending her money on the ride. It was one of the first things he wanted to buy for her, after they moved. Then he planned to buy her some diamonds…he wanted his baby dripping in bling!

“Hey, Trish, when does your commercial come out?”

“In a couple months, I think.”

“Is that when your mad cash starts rolling in?”

“I wish. It will take six, seven months before I see some really good money, but I’ll get a pretty good check in about two months. That one will at least allow me to quit the temp agency so I can put all my energy into auditions and stuff. You want some more pancakes?”

“Yeah, baby, just a couple more. No, make that three!” He followed her into the kitchen, watched as she poured three equal amounts of batter to form circles on the grill. “You know what would be cool? For you to be in a movie like, what was that movie with Jada and Queen Latifah and, uh…”

“
Set It Off
?” It was one of Trish’s favorite movies.

“Yeah! It would be cool if you would be in a movie like that! Pulling off a bank heist and shit! Those were some cold-blooded sistas!”

“Yeah, but look what happened to them in the end.”

“But Queen went out gangsta like a mothafucka, all Al Capone like, some Bugsy Siegel–style shit!” Tone stood in the middle of the kitchen, twitching back and forth the way Queen’s character, Cleo, did in the movie.

“Vivica Fox—”

“She was Frankie.”

“Yeah, Frankie shouldn’t have died, though.”

“You would have surrendered?”

“I don’t know? She was looking at hella jail time. And she had all that paper!”

“None of which she could spend dead.”

“But if she’d escaped, like her girl Jada did? She would have been home free then. What was Jada’s character’s name?”

“Stony. I was glad she got away.”

“Homeboy gave her a break. Shows there are a few dudes with heart behind the badge.”

Tony finished the last of the pancakes just as his cell phone rang. He gave Trish a kiss as he walked away and answered the call. “Yo, dog, what up?”

Trish began cleaning up, her mind in turmoil. Was Tony thinking of robbing a bank? Was this the path to a new beginning he was talking about? And was Stretch involved? Maya would die if anything happened to her brother. The elation Trish had felt all morning turned into a strange foreboding. But she forced herself to shake it off. For the first time in her life, all the pieces were in place. She was getting ready to live the life she’d always wanted. She wasn’t going to let her penchant for paranoia mess up her happy mood.