Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 129986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
We head toward the beach, but there are a lot of restaurants and hotels that way, so I figure that’s why.
We pull into the driveway of a place called Underworld. The owner must be a mythology buff because the sign has three dogs guarding the blue neon letters, like the three heads of a Cerberus guarding the gates of the underworld.
“You been here before?” Dare asks as he climbs out of the car.
I climb out too and close the car door. Smoothing down the short skirt, I say, “Nope.”
He nods, then leads me inside. He tells the hostess we want a table on the beach. She grabs two menus and leads us through the restaurant and back outside.
“Can I get you started with something to drink?” she asks once we’ve taken our seats.
“Yeah, can we both get a Malibu mango sunrise and glasses of water?” Dare says, causing me to blink at him a few times.
“Sure.” Her eyes narrow good-naturedly. “Can I see ID?”
His eyebrows rise like he’s surprised she’s even asking, but he says, “Sure,” and leans forward to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. I watch as he hands her what must be a fake ID because she looks at it, thanks him, and hands it back. Her gaze shifts to me, but before she can ask, he says, “You know what? Can you also put in an appetizer order? We’d love some spinach and artichoke dip, but we’re meeting with the interior decorator at our new place in about an hour. I’d hate to keep her waiting.”
Uncertainty flickers across her face, but he sounds so sure of himself as he casually utters that absolute bullshit, she decides he’s probably telling the truth and nods, turning away to go put in our order.
Dare leans back in his seat and smirks over at me.
I cock an eyebrow. “We’re moving in together now, huh?”
He nods. “It’s a big step, but I think we’re ready for it.”
I crack a smile. “It’s scary how comfortable you are lying. When I lie, I look like I’m holding back a murder confession with a hot face and guilty eyes. When you lie, it’s like… you’re telling the truth.”
“Lying is easy, you just have to do it with confidence.”
“No, thanks. I don’t need to be a better liar. It’s not a skill I find particularly useful.”
“Nah,” he says, like he’s not surprised. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you? All the way, through and through.”
I shrug. “I guess. I try to be a good person. When you lie, your word means less and less. I don’t see the advantage of making it difficult for people to trust you.”
“Maybe people shouldn’t trust me,” he says casually.
I shrug. “Maybe. In that case, go ahead and lie all you want, just don’t be surprised by the consequences.”
“The consequences today are that we’re going to have delicious drinks with our lunch.”
“Those are the immediate consequences, yes. The longer term consequences are that I will always be a little skeptical of anything you say because there’s literally no way to tell if you’re lying or telling the truth. Maybe you don’t care if I believe you, but it’s true either way. If there ever comes a day when you need me to believe you and I don’t, it’s no one’s fault but yours.”
“Why wouldn’t I care?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. A week ago, you didn’t even know my name. Maybe my ability to trust you isn’t something that matters to you.”
Dare watches me, his gaze narrowed. The waitress brings over a tray with our glasses of water and two brightly colored orange and red drinks with curled orange rinds on top.
She asks if we’re ready to order and since we are in a bit of a hurry, I quickly consult the menu while Dare orders, then order a chopped salad for myself.
Once the waitress walks away and leaves us to our drinks, Dare returns to the topic. “What if I didn’t lie to you?”
I smile, lifting the icy alcoholic beverage and taking a sip. “Because I’m special?” I tease.
“Because I can see your point about it being hard to trust someone who lies to you all the time. I might omit things if I think you’re better off not knowing them, but if you ask me anything directly, even something I’d rather keep from you, I promise not to lie. Not to you.”
I cock an eyebrow. On the face of it, it’s not a lot, but I have a feeling it’s more than he usually offers people. “Why?”
“Because I want you to be able to trust me. How I behave with others doesn’t necessarily have to be how I behave toward you. You trust me, and I’ll never give you a reason not to.”
That feels like a big promise coming from him. If he were anyone else, I might not consider it much of an offer, but I can tell it challenges him to make it, and that makes it a big deal. “I appreciate that,” I say seriously.