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There was no way out of this one unscathed. I took a deep breath. “Fine.”I didn’t know what to say. I just stood and stared. The oversized desk was a cluttered mess. There were piles of wood shavings, various wooden blocks that were carved and disregarded, an instruction book that was held open by a desk phone and all sorts of wooden-handled tools scattered around the long desk. But that wasn’t what got to me. It was the open first aid kit, along with an assortment of crumpled up, bloodied paper towels and at least half a dozen Band-Aid wrappers.
Dex was standing behind me. Neither of us had said a word since he’d flicked on the light. I turned to face him.
“Why?” I asked.
“Why what?”
“Why did you tell me you whittled?”
“You want the truth?”
“Of course, I do.”
He raked a hand through his dark hair. “I have no fucking idea. I wanted to sound like a regular guy, I guess.”
My lip twitched. “You have no idea what regular guys do for hobbies, do you?”
“I was raised privileged, Bianca. If I’d told you that I fenced competitively in high school and spent my weekends at sailing regattas, what would you have thought?”
He had a point. One lie can easily snowball into so many. “For the record, I’ve dated mostly regular guys and none of them whittled, Dex.”
“So noted.”
“Pretty sure most of them didn’t say things like ‘so noted,’ either.”
He smiled half-heartedly. I could see he felt bad for what he’d done. In fact, I was certain he had been beating himself up over it on a regular basis even while he was lying to me daily. I stopped at the doorway when Dex flicked off the light. “I’ll give you this much. You committed to the character.”
He grumbled. “Or I should be committed.”
After my tour was over, Joel was all ready to take photos. He did a series of Dex standing at his window with the view of Central Park, followed by some of him standing in front of the massive fireplace that was the center of the living room. But it was the ones that he took of Dex sitting on the couch that I liked best.
Joel had just taken a break from shooting when Dex’s cell phone rang. He excused himself and went to sit on the couch to talk to what I assumed from the side of the conversation that I’d heard, was his secretary. As Dex was talking, Bandit slunk up on the couch and lay next to him, resting his long face on his master’s lap. He mindlessly stroked the dog’s head while he went about the conversation with Josephine. From the other side of the room, Joel lifted his camera and started taking photos of what we both saw. I could only imagine how intimate the photos were going to come out.
By the time Dex hung up, Joel was starting to pack up his camera equipment.
“You’re all done?” Dex asked.
“I think I have more than enough. You’ll be very happy with the results.”
Dex nodded, then looked at me. “Do me a favor, Joel? Take one more. I’d like a photo with Ms. George.”
“Of course.”
Dex extended his hand toward me, and I felt foolish making a stink over a silly picture, so I went to stand next to him. He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me close. Joel snapped some shots and then Bandit decided to get in on the action. He jumped up between us, one paw landing on each of my and Dexter’s chests. We laughed while Joel took a few more.
There was an awkwardness when Joel was finished gathering his things and packing his camera up. Well, at least, I felt it. Joel extended his hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Truitt. I’ll have these photos to your office within two weeks.”
Dex nodded. “Thank you.”
“Are you heading uptown?” Joel turned to me. “Perhaps we can split a cab?”
Before I could answer, Dex cut in. “Actually. I need to go over some last minute things about the article, Bianca. Do you think you can stay for a few minutes?”
It wasn’t smart for me to be alone with him. “I’d love to, but I have an appointment I need to get to.”
Dex was not going to make it easy. “Two minutes. I’ll have my driver take you wherever you need to go after we’re done so you don’t have to waste time grabbing a cab.”
He walked Joel to the door before I could answer. When he came back to the living room, I was sitting on the couch rubbing my neck. It was really starting to hurt.
“Your neck is still bothering you?”
I nodded. “It’s muscular. Nothing a warm bath or a heating pad won’t take care of.”
“Scoot up.”
“What?”
Dex motioned for me to sit on the edge of the couch cushion. “These fingers can’t whittle for shit, but they can rub a mean massage. Let me at least help you with that.”
