First Lie Wins

by Ashley Elston

It’s the small touches a woman brings to a man’s home, like the matching throw pillows on the couch or the faint whiff of jasmine from the diffuser on the bookshelf, that every other woman notices the second she walks through the front door.

and that his eyes almost always lingered a little too long on any female who crossed his path, especially those dressed in short skirts.

“I don’t want to ask anymore. I want to know you’ll be here every night because it’s your home too. Will you do that? Make this your home?”

In moments like this I wish things were different. That this was real life and that my biggest concern was the petty drama between me and his childhood friends. When I wish I was the girl who got a flat tire and he was the guy who just happened to be there to help me. That there was a real future ahead of us. There’s so much he doesn’t know. So much I can’t tell him. And so much I never will.

“Introduce us to your friend.” James turns around quickly, obviously embarrassed he forgot who was standing next to him. “Ryan, Evie, this is Lucca Marino.” Her name runs through me like a shock of electricity.

This is not good. This is not good. This is not good. She is not from Eden, North Carolina—I am. Her mother didn’t die from breast cancer—Mine did.

Her name is not Lucca Marino—Mine is.

There’s that part of me I hate, when my next thoughts wander to what I can find out from him while his guard is down. How many secrets can I pry out of those loose lips? His hand reaches across the space separating us, his fingers tangling with mine. “Lucca,” he says, and that single word punctures my lungs, making it hard to drag in a breath. My hand on the steering wheel grips tight, and it’s the only thing that stops this car from flying off the road and landing in the ditch.

Before my brain can come up with any words, he says, “That girl with James.” His eyes are still closed so he doesn’t witness my silent hysteria. “She said something weird after you went to the bathroom.” Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Deep breath in through my nose. Slow and steady out of my mouth. Two more times.

He has become the concierge of the black market. Basically, Ryan is a thief, just like me.

Even though I expect his lies, does he expect mine?

It’s the first day of my first job for Mr. Smith, and I have to admit, I’m a little nervous. As far as Greg and Jenny Kingston know, I’m the new nanny for their son, Miles. But in truth, Greg has something in this house that my boss wants, and I’m here to get it for him.

Because what Matt doesn’t understand is that, if given the opportunity, Andrew will not cheat on his wife. It doesn’t matter how many beautiful, scantily clad women throw themselves at him. It doesn’t matter that he’s got a room to himself. It doesn’t matter how many drinks get fed to him. He’s not a cheater.

This is not my world. I’m just a ghost passing through.

“I got you some food,” he says, nodding to the back seat. Reaching behind me, my hand closes on the white plastic to-go bag. Inside is a cheeseburger with everything except onions and an order of sweet potato fries. “Thank you,” I whisper. We pull away while I grab the burger, taking a huge bite. He’s quiet while I eat, and I’m finding it hard to swallow past the lump in my throat. It’s the food that got me. And that he knew I liked sweet potato fries more than regular ones. And that I hate onions unless they’re cooked. The thoughtfulness of it has been so rare in my world.

I have a business in Glenview, Texas. It’s different work than what I do in Lake Forbing. I acquire things in a questionable way then sell those things for a significant markup. It’s not something that is public knowledge at home and I plan on keeping it that way.” I’m floored by this admission. “But you’re telling me,” I say. He glances at me, studies my face, then turns his attention back to the road. “Figured I’d go first.”

Whispered words flow out of him, broken sentences that shouldn’t make sense but do. I soak up every word as my nails dig into his back. Show him I feel the same way without having to say it.