“Oh, I’m aware of that. I’m freaking hilarious, but I don’t need other people to know that,” I say, continuing along the road.
“Right, on account of wanting to isolate yourself for the rest of your life.”
“Precisely.”
“But did I hurt your feelings? Because I’d be really sorry if I did.”
“No, it would take a lot more than that to upset me. But I do have to say, don’t ever do that again. I despise being the center of attention.”
“Duly noted.”
“Good,” I say, turning onto my driveway. "To be honest, I'm more troubled that you lied to me than about the song."
"Lied to you?" he asks, then a look of recognition crosses his face. "Oh, you mean about Peter and Nettie needing a big celebrity to help bring in customers?”
“You can lay off the flattery now. The game is up and I know what you did.”
“Sorry.”
“Yeah, maybe in Canada an apology magically erases the past, but where I’m from, I still get to be mad,” I say, walking up the steps to the front door. Liam holds open the screen while I dig my keys out of my handbag. “They’re doing fine, aren’t they?”
“Probably. I’d never ask them about their financial situation.” He shakes his head with a mock condescending expression. “You know, it really isn’t polite to ask someone how much they make.”
I give him a light punch on the arm and growl. “You’re impossible.”
“Never said I wasn’t.”
“You’re also a liar, Liam Wright.” I raise an eyebrow at him. "What happened to ‘I’m honest to a fault?’ Or is that just a line you use when you need a job?"
"No, of course not,” he says, sounding slightly offended. “But sometimes there’s good reason to bend the truth. Like, say, to protect someone's feelings or maybe give a somewhat stubborn, yet deserving friend an evening out.”
“Ah, I see. Well, the friends I keep know I don’t like being lied to, and they certainly know I like making my own decisions based on facts.Andthey’re smart enough to know not to guilt me into attending parties under false pretenses.”
“So, I really blew it in the friend department, didn’t I?”
“I’m afraid so. You’re on notice.”
“Won’t happen again, I swear on my father’s grave.”
“Is your father really…?”
Nodding, he says, “He passed twenty-four years ago. Cancer.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Me too. He was a hell of a guy. I’d never swear on his grave unless I meant it.”
“No more lies?”
“I promise. Only the truth from here on out.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” I say, unlocking the door.
“I’d expect you to,” he says. “You want me to do a quick security check?”
“No, thanks. I’m fine.”
“See you tomorrow morning then?”
