Page 67 of Married to Lies

The way Jada studied me made me feel like an ant under a magnifying glass. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

The blood drained from my face, and I had to remind myself to breathe.

The understanding in her eyes caught me off guard as she said, “I know we’ll never know everything about each other, but please tell Quentin before it’s too late. I don’t want you to live with the same regrets I have with Bryce.”

I swallowed, despite my throat feeling dryer than sand.

With a sad smile, Jada said, “We better eat this French toast before it gets too cold.”

I came here convinced I would let down all the walls between Jada and me, but the deeper I got into MyHome, the better I got to know the founders, the more I realized that we all had secrets, truths left unsaid.

And that’s when I realized… Conrad would have secrets of his own. Maybe one dark enough I could use it to stop him once and for all.

As soon as we paid for our meal, I got in my car, parked around the corner and searched for the number.

I’d met Easton in the Nest at The Tower not knowing who he was. He'd been waiting for a meeting with Jude and had a mustard stain on his tie that I helped him with. As thanks, he’d given me a card and told me to call if I ever needed his help. Only once we’d parted ways did I notice his title beneath his name: Easton Parker, Private Investigator. Although it sounded cool, I never thought I’d have a need for his services. Most of my creeping was done on social media.

Thankfully, I was obsessive about saving information from business cards just in case because I always lost the physical copy. He was saved as PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR.

I tapped the button to call him, expecting to get an answering service, but he answered in his distinct scratchy voice. “Easton Parker, PI, how can I help you?”

“You answered?” I asked, surprised. My mouth always spoke before my brain could catch up.

“That’s typically what people do when they get phone calls. Can I help you?”

I winced. “Um, this is Rei. You probably don’t remember me, but I was cleaning in The Tower that day you had the mustard potato salad for lunch.”

“I have mustard potato salad every day,” he said. “But I do remember you. Calling in that favor?”

My lips quirked in a hopeful smile. “This guy is giving me problems, and I need to know if he has any secrets I can–”

“Don’t say anything else,” he said. “Less details the better. Just need his name. Text it to me.”

“One sec.” I typed out the text and hit send. “Done. How much?” I asked. No matter the cost, I’d make it work. I wanted this to be over, and fast.

“My initial intel gathering is free, for saving my favorite tie. If you need more after that, we can discuss rates.”

“Thank you, Easton. Really.” Sweet relief coursed through me at finally being able to take some action. I dropped my head back on the seat and closed my eyes, feeling hot tears leak through.

I didn’t want to betray Quentin with this marriage. Not if I didn’t have to.

30 Quentin

With the police no closer to finding the person who poisoned Simon, Rei and I agreed we should date quietly leading up to the wedding. The less press around our relationship, the safer we both would be.

Since we couldn’t be seen leaving MyHome together, I had another idea.

That’s why, Monday evening, Rei walked into my office wearing an olive-green evening gown. Looking up from my computer, my mouth went dry.

The long-sleeved dress hugged her chest and flared at the waist, emphasizing her curves. Gauzy material made up the skirt, begging me to pull it aside for a view of her thick thighs. She looked so amazing, that dress had to be made for her. For this moment.

“Is this from Ambrosia?” I managed to ask as I got up from my desk and walked to her. Drawn as if by forces outside of myself. Beside her, my designer suit looked plain in comparison.

Rei shook her head, fluffing up her skirt with bejeweled hands. “This is just... something I had lying around.” She gave me a playful wink.

“Gorgeous,” I said, drinking her in. Following her gaze, I saw her looking at the photo of my family again.

“How do they feel about the wedding?” she asked. “I still can’t bring myself to give my parents the invitation.”