Page 36 of Sincerely, Mr. Braden

“I’m coming anyway.” The line goes dead.

I drive the rest of the way trying to figure out how to explain what happened without falling apart.

When I get home, there’s a package on my front porch. The ache in my chest deepens as I scan the label. It’s the care package Seth sent, forwarded same-day delivery from the mailing service, driving the knife of guilt deeper. In my heartache and rush to get home yesterday, I forgot to send him a thank-you note from Taylor.

I head inside, walking through my living room and past my office, feeling lost in my own life. How do people who lie on a regular basis live with themselves?

In the kitchen, I open the box and find a small envelope on top of a nest of gifts. There’s a large insulated bag with two containers of handcrafted chicken soup, which I put in the fridge, a beautiful tin of herbal teas, and a sleek black box stamped with The Macallan. Inside the black box is a bottle of eighteen-year-old whiskey, the amber liquid gleaming in the fading light. It’s top-shelf, like the man himself.

My fingers shake as I slide the card out of the envelope.

T, Sorry you’re not feeling well, but rest assured, I’m keeping your sister entertained. Get well soon, slacker. We’ve got work to do. S

I close my eyes against the tears I’ve been holding in all day. The words shouldn’t hurt, but they speak volumes about a relationship built on trust for a man Seth thinks he knows well enough to coin a term like my man T. The thing is, he does, because somewhere between the lie and the truth, Ellie became the part of me that feels most real.

The front door opens, and Becca breezes in like the whirlwind she is, juggling a pizza box and a bottle of wine. A vision of old Hollywood with platinum curls, cherry-red lips, and a bright-red swing coat to match, she announces, “I’m here, and I come bearing emotional support in the form of carbs and alcohol.”

She spots me sitting on the couch wearing my biggest, comfiest, most threadbare sweatshirt, which I confiscated from my father and wore for weeks after Cody left me at the altar, my legs tucked beside me. She eyes the whiskey bottle on the coffee table and the half-empty glass in my hand, and her brows knit. “Oh, Tay.” She puts the pizza and wine on the coffee table. “This is worse than I thought if you brought out the sweatshirt and bought whiskey.”

“I didn’t buy it. Seth sent it.”

She strips off her coat and tosses it on the armchair, looking too bright and cheery in a Marilyn Monroe–style white halter dress and heels that shouldn’t be physically possible to walk in. “Hold on,” she says, striding into the kitchen like a speed walker.

She returns in a whirl of white fabric, sets two plates on the coffee table, and pours herself a glass of whiskey. She toes off her heels and plops down beside me with a loud sigh.

“Okay. Tell me everything. If he hurt you”—her voice drops, threatening—“I swear I will hunt him down and make sure he never has a chance to hurt anyone again.”

I smile, but I also want to cry. “He didn’t hurt me. He was wonderful. Everything I always thought he would be and so much more,” I say quietly. “But I ruined it.”

“How can two nights ruin anything? Why did you come home early?”

Lowering my gaze to my glass, to avoid any judgment in her eyes, I say, “Because I lied to him.”

Becca freezes with the glass halfway to her mouth. “Define lied.”

“He thinks I’m Taylor Mitchell’s sister.”

“Why?” she exclaims.

“He caught me off guard! He showed up Friday evening out of nowhere. He was supposed to be away on business, and suddenly he walks into the house, thinking he’s finally going to meet his buddy Taylor, a guy—because when you’re a billionaire you can hop on a jet and head to an island whenever you feel like it.” My voice escalates. “And I’m standing there in my bikini, unable to form a freaking sentence because I think I’ve conjured him out of daydreams or fantasies. But there he was, and let me tell you, he’s a thousand times better looking in person, and he smells so good, and he was looking at me with this incredible smile and those piercing blue eyes…” Tears well in my eyes, and I pause long enough to stave them off. “I freaked out. He introduced himself and asked where Taylor was. I wasn’t thinking beyond, Holy shit, I’m supposed to be a guy. I didn’t want to blow my cover, because it’s Seth Braden, and he knows a lot of people, and what if he hates that I lied about who I am for all these years? I didn’t want to get fired or ruin my career, so I said I was Taylor’s sister, Eleanor.”

“Ohmygod. Nori? You said you were Nori? After all these years?”

“No! I said I was Eleanor. And you know how much I hate that name, but in the span of two short days, he made me love it.” Tears spill down my cheeks, and I swipe at them.

“Oh, Tay.” She puts down her glass and wraps her arms around me. “That’s bad, but it’s not unforgivable.”

“It feels unforgivable.” I sit back, wiping my tears, and take a drink, hoping to numb the pain. “I tried to be as honest as I could. I told him I’m a virtual assistant and a graphic designer, and I told him the truth about Mom and Dad, and you. But I also pretended we have a brother, Taylor, who lives in Delaware.” I turn away to catch my breath. “I’m such an idiot, Becca. I feel horrible. He was kind and thoughtful and loving, and he looked at me and treated me like I was someone special. And what do I do? I hand him half-truths.” My voice cracks, and she hugs me again, which brings a rush of tears. “I can’t believe I lied. Every time I tried to tell him the truth, I couldn’t. I hate that I did this.”

“I know. That’s not who we are, but you listen to me.” She sits back and takes me by the shoulders, holding my gaze like she did after our mother left. “Sometimes lies are necessary. You were protecting your career, and let me remind you, you let all your other clients go to better serve him. So I’d argue that you did the right thing, even if it feels wrong now. It’s not like you planned on lying to your boss to rope him into bed. That would be a worse kind of wrong.”

“I would never do that. I didn’t plan any of this. It just happened, and then I was in too deep to back out.” I wipe my eyes and run my finger around the rim of my glass, then admit the other part that makes me supremely selfish. “For once in my life, I wasn’t Taylor, the assistant who has to have all the answers or the daughter who’s trying to keep her dad healthy and safe. I was just a single woman spending time with a guy I’d been crushing on for years, and it felt so freaking good.”

“You deserve that, Taylor.”

I shake my head. “Not at his expense. That was wrong. That’s why I left early. He said he was starting to understand how his siblings fell so fast for their significant others.”

“Whoa. That’s sweet.”