Lies Unspoken

“Pierce.”

She whimpers. “Oh God. Have you mentioned her to Blake? What did he say?”

The way she reacts makes me want to know even more. It’s worse than waiting to see what’s wrapped for me under the Christmas tree. “I haven’t mentioned it to him. Should I?”

“No!” she yells. “You know how much you hate it when I bring up Derek? How much you hated when people asked you about him after you broke up? This is the same type of situation. Sometimes the past just needs to be left alone.”

I close my eyes, allowing her reaction to soak in. Whatever happened was big. Big enough to leave deep, emotional wounds and cause an even deeper hatred between two men who I’ve become caught between. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” I finally say.

“It’s not your fault,” she concedes, letting out a heavy breath. “I just wasn’t expecting this. What are the chances you move to Chicago and run into the president of Blake’s hate club within a few weeks.”

“It’s just the kind of luck I have lately.”

“Can you do me a favor?” she asks.

“Anything.”

“Keep them away from each other, and whatever you do, do not mention Alyssa . . . not to Blake,” she pleads. Curiosity killed the cat. It’s going to kill Lila Fields too.

“I’ll do the best I can. I’ve learned that men aren’t as controllable as we’d like them to be.”

That brings a short laugh from her. “Truer words have never been spoken. What are you doing for Christmas?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I want to go home, but I don’t have the money to buy a plane ticket.”

“I guess we’re in the same boat. Worst-case scenario, we can have a Skype date.”

“Sounds like a plan, and there’s always A Christmas Story,” I say.

That brings back memories of our first year at UCLA. We thought a California Christmas would beat out the snow and cold, but when the holiday finally rolled around, we were both depressed and homesick. We stayed in our pajamas and cozied on the couch, watching A Christmas Story over and over again. It was the best and worst Christmas I’ve ever had.

“It’s a date.”

“Hey, Mallory, can I ask you one more thing?”

“Shoot.”

“Where does Blake go when he disappears? What does he do?”

“He paints. It’s his therapy. Is he gone now?” she asks.

“Yeah. He said he was leaving for a few days.” I run my fingers across the soft cotton comforter, remembering the time I spent in the studio.

“He’ll be back. Look, I should get going. I’m covered in a layer of sweat.”

I laugh. “You work out while I lay in bed and read a book. Some things never change. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Take care.”

Dread. It’s the only word that comes to mind as I walk into Stanley Development. It kept me up last night, rehearsing what I would say if Pierce wandered by my desk or called me to his office.

I’m not an actress, and this isn’t the school play.

I hide away in my little cubicle, doing my best to keep my mind occupied. He said nothing had changed for me at Stanley, but I’ve changed. How I feel about him . . . how I think whenever he’s around.

“Hey,” Reece says, coming around the corner. “Are you going to lunch?”

I finish shading the edge of my mood board and look up. “I’m not hungry.”

“You’re not getting by with that excuse today. Come on.” She picks up my purse and holds it out for me.

“Can we go to the little café down the street? I need some fresh air.”

“Are you going to fill me in on New York?” she asks.

I cringe; I should’ve guessed this was coming. “As much as we can cover in one hour.”

“Now I’m excited,” she says, watching me pull on my coat. I lift my purse from her fingers and follow her to the elevator. As we step on, I glance around for Pierce. He’s not there. And again, when we walk through the lobby, I search for him. I don’t know what I’d say if he walked up. And within seconds, Reece would know something is up. She’s too perceptive.

The café is small and dimly lit. It’s one of the few places around here that isn’t often used for business lunches between important executives.

We each order soup and find a table in the back, away from the busy counter. “You’re quiet,” Reece says, staring me down from across the table.

“I’m tired. Two days of traveling and meetings wore me out more than I thought it would.”

“So, what was it like?” Not knowing is killing her. I’m surprised she didn’t convince me to join her for coffee this morning.

“What part?” I ask, delaying the inevitable.

“Let’s start with New York.”

A smile actually plays on my lips for the first time today. “If you haven’t tried it, you need to make time for the frozen hot chocolate. Hands down, one of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

“And the meetings?”

I sit back, trying to get comfortable in the wooden chair. “Interesting. The guy we met with is a complete asshole. It ended up being a pissing match between him and Pierce.”

“Did he end up picking Stanley for the project?”

I think back to how the meeting ended yesterday. “Umm . . . probably not.”

“That sucks. It would’ve been a nice excuse for all of us to visit New York.” She takes a bite of her soup, then continues, “And Pierce?”

“What about him?” I ask.

“What was it like being alone with him for two days?”

It depends on which part, I think to myself. “He’s charming and sweet . . . easy to talk to.”

She sets her spoon down, studying me. “And?”

“Can we talk about something else?”

“Nope,” she says, shaking her head for extra emphasis.

Pierce and I crossed over so many boundaries, but I’m not going to admit to all of them. But I need to talk to someone. “He kissed me.”

“Shut up!”

After looking to make sure no one is listening, I turn back to her. “I can’t do it, Reece. I can’t be with him like that, and I hate myself for it.”

“Do you know how crazy you sound right now? What do you mean?”

Good question. “I moved here to get over a broken heart, and when I started messing around with Blake, I thought I could do it. I thought someone else still owned my heart . . . that it wasn’t mine to steal. I was wrong; I had it, and Blake took it right out of my hands. I know he’s not the right guy, but I’m having a hard time letting him go.”

“And Pierce?” she asks quietly, hanging on my every word.

“I wish things were different. I wish I’d fallen for him, but it’s hard to fall when I’m already down.”

“Is it impossible?”

“What?”

“To fall for Pierce?”

I close my eyes, thinking about what it would be like to be the woman on Pierce’s arm. To have him worship me . . . to take care of me. How safe it would feel. It’s what I imagined last night, lying in my quiet, dark apartment. It should’ve been him.

“No,” I say honestly. “I just can’t have a future with someone when I haven’t closed the book on my past.”

“Have you talked to Blake, to try to work this all out?”

I stare down at my full soup bowl, stirring my spoon along its edges. “No. He’s out of town for a few days.”

“Lila, you know you can trust me, don’t you?”

I nod.

“When he gets back, you need to talk to him . . . you need to let him go.”

I nod again. It’s all I can do. She’s not telling me anything I don’t already know. It’s just not that easy.

We head back to the office, and I get lost in a sea of fabric samples for the rest of the afternoon. The day speeds by, giving way to a much-needed weekend. I’m actually looking forward to Charlie’s, to the distraction it provides.

As I step outside, I wrap my arms tightly around my stomach. It’s dark, and light snow flurries blow across my face.

I’m about to round the corner to the train stop when I come face to face with the man I’ve been trying to avoid all day long.