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“Okay.” Andrew dishes out the rules of the next activity. “This exercise is called three lies, two truths. You are to tell your partner three lies about yourself and then two truths, and they have to figure out your facts from your fiction. The rules. They can ask you as many questions as they want to discover your truths. There is a fifteen-minute time limit, and make your lies believable. No one will believe you if you say you can speak fifty-seven languages. This exercise is to demonstrate how trusting and how trustworthy you are. Are you willing to share your innermost secrets with someone you work with, without fear of being judged?” He pauses. “It’s time to be courageous and show your vulnerability. Do you fully trust your partner to share? If you are brave enough to do so, it shows the true meaning of trust. Whatever is said between you two remains a secret.” Andrew eyes the wall clock. “You have thirty minutes, fifteen minutes each, and I will tell you when your time is up. Go.” Andrew sets us off.
“I’ll go first.” Violet wiggles side to side in her seat. She looks up to the left and then right as she chews the side of her mouth. She finally says, “I love buying stationery and have a special cabinet full of it in my house. I collect dog ornaments. I’ve never been in love before. My sister and I are best friends and I’ve had over ten assistants since I started my job at West Oracle.”
I eye her suspiciously. She has a great poker face, but I am looking for her tell. I start by asking her questions about the dog ornaments and eventually I work out that’s a lie.
“What was the name of your last assistant?”
She hesitates before answering. “Alfred,” she blurts.
“Alfred?” I can’t hide my amusement. “What, as in Batman’s butler?”
“Yes, he happens to have the same name.” She tries to be cool, but the tone in her voice went up by at least two octaves.
“And the one before that?”
“Geoffrey.”
I scoff, “The Fresh Prince of Bel Air’s butler, Geoffrey?” She’s not a good liar.
She sucks her lips into her mouth and snorts. “I’m not very good at this. Sorry that wasn’t very ladylike.” Her rosy cheeks deepen in color.
“So that’s a lie. How many assistants have you had then? A couple?”
She shakes her head. “None. I’ve never had an assistant. I need one because I’m so busy, but I don’t want one. Instead, and to appease my father, I have a kind of secretary instead. She’s based at head office and only sorts my emails and organizes my calendar. No grabbing coffee or dry cleaning.” She grants me a blistering provocative smile that makes her eyes crinkle at the sides, illuminating her entire face.
I get a weird flip-flop sensation in the depths of my stomach.
I sit back in my seat to distance myself from her. She’s dangerous.
Dangerous for my dick.
I clench my eyes, trying to calm my half-mast erection down and focus on our task. “Okay, so three things left: stationery, sister, and never been in love,” I list them out loud.
“You’re thirty-two years old this year?”
She gasps. “You looked me up?”
Shit. I shouldn't know that about her. “I did. Last night.”
“Stalker.”
“Thorough. Research. You’re my new employer.”
“It’s temporary work.”
“And I want to know who I am working for. You could be trafficking women and have fifteen sex clubs for all I know.”
“West Oracle is not that type of corporation.” She leans toward me, her eyes narrowed.
“Good to know. Just checking.” I wink. “Thirty-two?”
“Yes.” Her lips are in a tight, thin line.
“You have to had been in love, surely. I reckon that’s the lie. Which means your two truths are you love stationery and you're best friends with your sister.” I fold my arms confidently.
Violet makes a buzzer noise. “Wrong.”
Damnit. I thought I had it.
