“Now, here’s the thing about lying, folks. If you get good at it, you become the lie. You wear it every day, along with your clothes. If you want to know what makes a good lie, it’s this. If you believe it, so will they.”
My hands white-knuckle the wheel, and I flick the button to change the station.
What an asshole. No wonder Nora has trouble trusting people.
I’m still steamed up by the time I park outside The Ginger Station, a few spaces behind my friends.
When I get out of the car, Mick eyes me doubtfully. “You don’t look like you’re about to apologize. You look like you’re about ready to punch someone in the face.”
“I’m feeling very apologetic,” I insist. “The person I want to punch is Nora’s father, but I don’t know where he is. It seems pretty unlikely he’d be at the brewery tonight.”
Liam grins. “Well, we’ll bail you out if you get arrested.”
We head into the tasting room together, and once we get inside, I experience a moment of doubt, maybe even panic. What am I doing here?
If Nora wanted to see me, she probably would have responded to my texts. Or answered one of the desperate calls I made when the texts didn’t work.
She’s upset. She doesn’t like what I said to her, and I understand why. I pulled back a bandage and revealed a wound she’d thought had healed.
“Well, we’re gonna get a drink,” Liam says, clapping me on the back. “We’re here if you need us.”
I glance around, heart in my throat, but I don’t see either Nora or José out on the floor.
“Wait. Where’s—” I cut myself off. There is such a thing as stupid questions, after all, and they wouldn’t know where she is any better than I do.
“You’ll do great, buddy,” Liam says. “And if she’s not here, we’ll try again tomorrow night.”
I’m sure he means it. Liam’s a good friend. Even though he has plenty of work to do, not to mention a wedding to plan with his fiancée, he would come back here if I needed him to. Same goes for Mick.
As they make their way to the bar, I take a step deeper intothe tasting room—and then stop, feeling like an idiot. She’s probably in her office.
With my heart thumping and my hands as sweaty as they were in high school during my one and only game of seven minutes in heaven, I head into the back hallway—and bump directly into José when I take the final turn toward Nora’s office.
He frowns at me. “I thought you had some kind of vicious stomach virus.”
“Uh, yeah, it’s bad,” I say. Remembering what Nora’s father said on his show, I groan dramatically and try to channel every actual stomach virus I’ve ever experienced. “It’s horrible.”
His brow crease deepens. “You want to get other people sick?”
It’s a reasonable question, but he’s acting hostile. Like I’m stepping all over his toes just because I’m here to visit my girlfriend.
Fake girlfriend.
“Have you got a problem with me?” I ask.
He takes a step back and leans against the wall. “Of course not. You be good to Nora, we’ll have no issues with each other.”
“Same goes for you.”
He cocks his head as if he finds it inconceivable that I’d challenge him, but I don’t regret what I said.
To be perfectly honest, it has nothing to do with the whole fake relationship setup. It’s good for him to know where I stand. If he hurts her, I’ll find a way to make him pay.
“No need to get all wound up.”
“Have a good night.” I push past him and down the hall, my mind working overtime.
For all I know, José just declared his undying love to Nora and I’m too damn late, because I should have shown up three days ago. Sure, he’s alone and looks pissed-off, but that doesn’t meananything.
