Grand Lies by JC Hawke
22
Mase
Nina is still asleepwhen I get in from my morning run, and although I should probably wake her, I know that once I do, she will be back to her nonstop self and, much to my annoyance, off to the studio to meet with Joey fucking Wilson.
I don’t care that Charlie came up with nothing. The prick has issues, and I don’t trust him around her.
Instead of waking her up, I opt for a shower.
* * *
Leaning over the bed,I take her lips in a soft kiss, her eyes fluttering open moments later, followed by the most beautiful smile, showcasing her dimples
“Angel.”
“Hmmm, morning,” she says, stirring in my arms.
She stretches against me, and I can’t help myself, dipping my head down to take her nipple in my mouth. Her hands lift to my head, running through the damp strands, and it’s the best fucking feeling. The small moments like this—just the two of us.
“Can we stay here all day?” she hums, and it goes straight to my cock.
I lift my head from her chest, smiling wide. “Fuck, yes!”
“I’m kidding.” She giggles, pushing my head away. I turn, nuzzling into her hand to place a kiss on her wrist, just below her bangle.
“What time is it?” she asks.
I hide my face in her breasts. “Just gone eight thirty,” I tell her, with not an ounce of guilt.
“What?! Fuck!”
I roll my eyes and sigh, taking her place in bed as she jolts out from under me. I fall to my back, watching as she tries to rush to get ready, but she only moves shit around from one spot to another, not actually doing anything.
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“You had an accident. I never should’ve allowed you to go to work yesterday.”
She bends, picking up her sock, and I get the perfect view of her lace-clad ass. Spotting her other sock already on the bed, I snatch it up.
“Shit! I have nothing ready for Joey.” She starts to pull on her bra, and as she looks down to fasten the straps, I toss the sock to the door. “I didn’t even clean the studio!”
“That’s a shame,” I say, shrugging when she eyes me suspiciously.
“You fucking did this on purpose, didn’t you?”
“I think you are more than capable of setting an alarm, angel.”
She pulls on her first sock, then starts riffling through the sheets for the other.
“Fuck!”
“Over there.” I nod to the door, trying to be helpful.
She rushes over, bending down and snatching it up off the floor. “I am so flipping late.” I grin wide as I get another eyeful.
Fucking perfect.
“I will text Vin,” I tell her.
“You know, I’m pissed with you right now. You knew I had to be up. No sex for you tonight, Bossman.”
“I wouldn’t have got sex tonight anyway. You have… issues.” I wave my hand in the direction of her nether regions.
“Issues? My period, you mean. And it’s rarely for more than two to three days. I stopped last night,” she answers smartly.
My mouth drops wide, and I sit up in the bed. “And you’re only fucking telling me this now?”
“You could have woken me up like you normally do.” She shrugs. “You’d have at least got your dick sucked. You need to learn to pick your battles, and Joey… isn’t one of them.” She pops her brow as if she has it all figured out.
She slips from the room with her tank halfway over her head.
I give her thirty seconds, purely because it’s all I can physically allow.
“Hey!” I call out as I jog down the stairs. She turns, her hand already on the elevator button.
I pull her to me by the waist, and she comes willingly, her arms grasping mine as I lean down and take her pouty lips with my own. Her back arches, and I lift her from the ground, my cock jumping to attention as her body moulds to mine.
“I love you,” I tell her.
Her body goes lax, her smile not faltering. “I love you too,” she murmurs against my mouth.
My eyes blink closed as I absorb her words. Three words that ground me so easily, bringing me back down and rooting me to earth.
“I’ll see you at eleven,” I tell her.
She nods her head at me, a sweet innocent smile on my not so innocent girl’s face.
* * *
Nina
Rushing through the gym,I throw my hand up at Henry in greeting, knowing I have a million things to do before Joey arrives. My heart feels like it is pumping a million beats a minute as I poke my head in Erin’s office door, but she isn’t there. She is either late like me or already out on a meeting.
I shoot the girls a text and tell them I will meet them for lunch, but I may be late.
The studio isn’t in the worst shape, but it’s not immaculate either. The floor-to-ceiling mirrors are the bane of my life. I spend hours on them every week, and they never seem to stay clean.
I sweep and mop the floors, wipe the windows, the mirrors, and then dust the benches off to finish. It’s the best I can do with the little time I have.
Henry finds me in the staff room as I’m putting away the mop bucket.
“Anderson, you look a hot mess.”
“Henry, don’t. I have a photographer coming in today.”
“To take pictures of what?” he asks, frowning as he unboxes a delivery.
“Me!”
His eyes lift, scanning my body and he cringes. “It’s not that bad, is it?” I ask, looking down at myself, my voice rising in panic.
“No.” He shakes his head, clearly sensing I’m a donkey on the edge. “You look great.”
“Fuck off, Henry,” I say, storming from the room. “Asshole.”
“What did I do?” he shouts after me.
* * *
It’s ten to eleven,and neither Mason nor Joey are here yet.
Nothing I do seems to ease my anxiety, and with Henry downstairs and Joey on his way, I am really freaking anxious. I didn’t think about Henry being here. Mason has come to blows with both men, and now I’m going to have them—together—under one roof?
Yeah, I didn’t think this through.
Sticking the last bobby pin in my hair, I check myself out in the mirror. I am wearing a plain black long-sleeved leotard, I found it at the bottom of my gym bag, and it passed the sniff test, so it was a go. It’s the best I could do given this morning’s sabotage by Mason.
A knock sounds on the studio doors, and I instantly know it’s Joey.
Mason wouldn’t knock.
Walking over, I open the door, finding Joey struggling with a handful of different shaped bags on each arm.
“Hey! Come in,” I tell him, taking one of the many bags he is carrying. “Here, let me help you. God, what do you have in here?”
“Thanks, Nina, and you’d be surprised.” He makes it just inside the door and drops down half the bags gently to the floor. Shaking out his arm, he looks around the studio. “Wow, this place is huge. It’s all yours?”
“Yep! The gym too,” I tell him proudly.
“That’s mad. You’re killing it; it’s better than I expected, that’s for sure. No offence.”
“None taken.” I chuckle.
“The lighting is great in here.”
“Yeah, the windows are a godsend for lighting, but come summer, it’s stifling in here. They open like a centimetre, and that’s it.”
“They normally only do that for crazy people.” He laughs, dropping down the last of the bags. He stands to his full height, and I take him in.
He has on dark jeans with a long baggy vest, his lean but defined frame on display. His hair is a dark mess of perfection, although I can imagine it’s annoying as hell keeping it out of his eyes. He seems to be constantly pushing it back.
“I haven’t seen you and the girls at The Pearl for a while.”
“Ah no, we haven’t been out as much. We tend to go hard after payday and then struggle for the last two weekends.”
“I get that.” He nods as he grins wide.
“So, my boyfriend was going to pop in later. You have met him—Mason.” I cringe.
“The guy from the café?” he questions, clearly surprised.
“I was hoping the two of you would just get on with it for the sake of the photos.”
I see his nostrils flare, and my stomach drops. This was a bad idea.
“Of course. I am here for work, Nina.” He says as if he’s reminding himself, bending down as he starts to unpack his bags.
* * *
I thoughtit would be different angles and poses, but Joey had me dance instead. He said it was the best way to catch me naturally, and I have to admit, it’s been kind of fun.
Some of the shots Joey showed me are unreal. He has an obvious talent for photography, and I’m surprisingly excited to see the finished prints.
I’m sitting drinking my water when he comes to sit next to me, his gaze focused on his camera.
“How long have you been studying photography?” I ask.
“Two years. I’m in my final year now.”
“How old are you?” I frown.
“Twenty-eight, I didn’t start straight away.”
“How come?”
“I used to look after my mum when she was sick,” he says, completely emotionless, his thumbs flicking through the photos on the camera.
“You used to?”
“Yeah. So can we just do one more song? Maybe in front of the mirrors, even with me in the shot. It will add to the image we are creating.”
What is it with me lately, always opening my big mouth and making everyone uncomfortable? Although Joey doesn’t seem uncomfortable—more preoccupied. But still, it’s none of my business.
“Of course, I really am loving this.” I beam at him, trying to lighten the mood.
“I can tell. Look at that smile,” he tells me, chuckling, and I drop my head embarrassed.
Cool it, Nina.
“So, when you’re dancing, I want your profile in the reflection.”
I nod, moving to stand in position with my head dipped, still feeling silly at my over-the-top enthusiasm.
“No, your profile,” he says, walking to me and planting his hands on my waist. He turns me to face the mirror. “Profile to the mirror.”
Joey’s fingers flex into the silky material at my hips as the studio door clicks shut. Mason stands just inches away, his eyes wild.
“Mase,” I say in surprise, watching as he stands unmoving.
He seems to have a laser focus on me. It’s like he is seeing me for the first time, his eyes boring dangerously into my own, questioning.
He steps back, flicking his gaze to Joey.
“Are you okay, Mase?” I try, but my heart drops as his eyes only blaze straight through me, a hard expression masking his face.
“Nina, I have some things I need to get to. Are you okay here?” He starts to leave, and I move for him.
“Mase?”
I jog after him, the studio door banging closed behind me, but he’s already halfway down the stairs, his suit-clad back moving farther and farther away from me.
My shoulders drop as disappointment fills me.
What the hell?
I expected more.
* * *
Mase
I slideinto the back of the Audi, slamming the door and dropping my head between my knees.
“FUCK!” I shout, the sound vibrating off the windows.
“Mason?” Vinny mutters.
Lifting my head, I place my forearms on my knees, staring down at the note in my trembling hands.
Nina,
I had to go home to Mum.
I will call when I can.
Erin.
I’d know it fucking anywhere, and everything I thought I’d feel seeing it again is an afterthought, my only concern being Nina.
“Mase.”
My mind is a cluster of thoughts, each one more confusing than the next, and each one threatening to rise up from a buried past and pull me down with them.
“The woman who owns Nina’s studio, Erin. Get me all you have.”
He gives me a tight nod. “Home or The Montwell?”
“Office.”
* * *
Nina
“Honestly,Mase might as well have not shown up at all. I think I’d prefer him to cock his leg and piss on me than do nothing.”
All the girls laugh, but Scarlet screws her face up at me. “That’s disgusting,” she says.
I smile over at her. “Sorry, Scar. But he was a complete ass. He just left. I presumed he was acting a jealous ass as usual, but he left me there with Joey. It made no sense.” I frown as I go over it in my head, not understanding his reaction.
“Didn’t he storm in here when you met with Joey the first time for coffee?” Megan asks.
“Yes!” I throw my hands up. “Exactly, what happened to that guy and why do I want him back?” I laugh. My phone starts ringing, and I pull it from my bag.
“It’s Erin,” I tell them, waving my phone at them. I’ve called her five times in the last hour, she was supposed to meet us for lunch but hasn’t shown.
“Erin, hey! Where are you?”
“Nina, did you not get my note?”
“Note? What note?” I frown.
“I left it on my desk, I had to go home to my mum.”
“No! Erin, you were here a day.”
What the hell?
“She’s sick again. I will be in touch, okay?”
“Erin—” I check my phone to find she has already gone.
“She went home?” Lucy asks.
“Yeah. Her mum is sick again.”
“That’s shit,” Megan says, sipping her coffee.
“Yeah, it is.” I frown.
* * *
Mase
“Where the fuck is Vinny!”
I’m about to call him when George comes barrelling through my office doors, his infuriating smile in place.
“Mason. Have you eaten today? You came back from Nina’s photography session rather quick. Either way, I ordered you in, just in case.” he tells me with a wink.
“I’m fine, fucking knock or use the damn intercom!” I yell, taking my frustration out on him and then feeling like a dick for it instantly.
“Of course,” he says, unaffected by my words. “I put an extra sugar in.” He nods, and I know he is trying to suss me out. He places the cup of tea on the edge of my desk.
“Get out. Please, George,” I say, deflated, running my hands through my hair and not having the energy to deal with him.
* * *
Vinny doesn’t arriveuntil gone four, and he enters my office too fucking calmly, taking his time to close the door behind him.
His grim expression as he faces me has my gut twisting.
I’ve had too much time to think.
“What took you so long?” I hold my hand out for the file he has in his hand.
He chucks it to my desk, and I flip open the first page before it has even stopped moving. “Mason.”
“What’s this?” I hold up the first sheet of paper.
He lifts his chin, swallowing thickly. “A death certificate.”
“Whose?”
“Erin O’Connor’s. She died six weeks ago.”
“What? No.” I frown. “Erin O’Connor was with Nina Sunday night!”
He drops his head, and when he lifts it again, there is regret in his eyes.
“Vin.”
His shoulders drop, and I know.
It’s her.
“Fucking tell me, Vinny!”
“Cara Langer.” He steps forward, pulling a sheet of paper from the file. “She bought the studio a week previous to you meeting her. She changed every detail that could trace it to her and put it in a different name. Honestly, I don’t know how I missed it.”
My head spins, my eyes pinching tight as I bring my hand up to my forehead.
How has this happened?
“Cara. She owns Nina’s studio?”
“I’m so sorry, Mason.”
Fuck! I link my hands behind my head and turn my back to Vinny.
She can’t be there. I can’t have her there.
I grit my teeth, closing my eyes as pain slices through me. “Sell it.”
“What? You can’t sell it when it doesn’t belong to you.”
“I can and I will. I can’t have it linked back to Nina. Imagine how it would look. Have it put on the market for a quick and quiet sale.”
“No.”
My head snaps around, my eyes wild as I try to control my anger. “You’ll fucking sell it!” My fist comes down on my desk, and he recoils. Shame fills me, but I don’t stop, too far gone. Everything is too far gone. “You think you can stand there and tell me fucking no, Vin? I pay you to do a job, so prove to me you can do it,” I spit.
“She would never forgive you, you know. Dancing is her life.”
My heart throbs. Actual physical pain that runs deep in my chest. “What choice do I have?” I say at a loss. “I can’t let her be connected to this. I won’t allow it.”
“You’re making a huge mistake. You want to sell her studio, then you do it yourself.” He shakes his head at me, placing the sheet of paper back on the desk. His fist clenches white against it, and I know there’s no persuading him.
“George, get me Lance Sullivan,” I say through the intercom, rolling my tongue over my teeth as my knee bounces in agitation.
“On it now, boss!” George buzz’s back.
The keys to the Audi hit my desk, followed by the set of keys that belong to everything I own. “That’s me, Mase. I’m done here.” Vinny leans in, and my nostrils flare, my eyes burning as I stare down at the carpet, unable to hold his eyes.
My chin trembles and I clench my jaw to stop it.
“Sixteen years, and I have never been more disappointed in you.” He rights himself, then leaves my office, not looking back.
“FUUCKK!” I roar, my chest rising and falling as I try to control my emotions.
Picking up the mug off my desk, I launch it across the room, shattering the glasses and jug of water laid out across the coffee table. Not satisfied or feeling remotely better, I walk over, flipping the table with my foot and smashing it to pieces.
Everything was too good, too easy.
I should have known.
“Lowell? What the fuck, man?” Lance mutters as he steps into my office, eyeing the mess. “What’s going on?”
“Cara—she’s here in London. Fucking find her or find me someone who can.”
“What? Is she fucking stupid?”
“Turns out she isn’t as stupid as we once thought.”
