“Yes.” Callie paused. “It was a long time coming.”
“I’ll bet,” Irene said.
“But just to be clear,” Callie rushed to add, “Thomas and I didn’t get involved until after I was free.”
She was already a liar. No need to make herself sound like a cheater too.
The other woman snorted. “You’re telling me you didn’t stray while you were with Andre, but you did find a new guy before lunchtime on the same day you became single? Is that right?”
Lying wasn’t as easy or fun as she’d been led to believe.
“Umm…” Callie bit her lip. “Yes. That’s right.”
A gleeful laugh crackled through the cell’s speaker. “I don’t know whether to check your pants for flames or congratulate you for finally kicking that asshole to the curb.”
At that, Callie’s eyes widened. “You thought Andre was an assh?—”
Cowan didn’t let her finish. “I’m sorry, Callie. The timing of your relationships is none of our business. Also, HATV and its employees would never call one of our applicants an asshole. Ever. Not under any circumstances. Please excuse us for a moment.”
They must have muted their conversation again, because she couldn’t hear anything for a few seconds. By the time they returned, she was nibbling on a thumbnail, trying not to scratch her chest.
“Apologies for calling your ex an asshole.” Irene didn’t sound especially sorry, and she didn’t wait for her apology to be accepted. “We have a few more questions.”
“Forgive us,” Cowan said, “but how do we know this man is really your boyfriend?”
The true moment of decision had arrived. If she backed out now, Irene and Cowan wouldn’t belabor the issue. They’d merely hang up and find someone else for the show.
But if she kept lying, she’d actually have to provide evidence of that lie.
She could either continue on the Dark Path of Duplicity, or she could make a sharp right onto the Rosy Roadway to Righteousness. And she had to make the choice now.
“Ummm…” She closed her eyes and grimaced. “After work tonight, I can e-mail you pictures of us together, and you can judge for yourself whether we look romantically involved. Or you can send someone to interview us, like you did with Andre.”
Trundling along the Dark Path of Duplicity it was, then.
And somehow, she was still talking. “All this might seem a bit quick?—”
“You think?” Irene said.
“—but Thomas and I have worked together for months now, and there’ve always been, uh, feelings.” Irritation and impatience were feelings, right? “We just didn’t act on them before this. Until Andre and I ended things.”
Shit, shit, shit. How had the scope of this lie not occurred to her? Did she really plan to create fake pictures of them as a loving couple? Or convince Thomas to memorize and parrot a fictional story about their torrid love affair?
“We don’t have time to do another interview before the trip.” After a muffled conversation with Cowan, Irene came back on the line. “Tell us about your new boyfriend, Callie.”
He makes a tortoise seem speedy. Fails to multitask or retain basic information about checkout procedures. Bumps into the microfilm machines and various desks while deep in thought.
No. That wouldn’t do.
Instead of dwelling on her more recent frustrations, Callie conjured up her first impressions of Thomas, back when she’d found him charming. Sought out his company.
This part of the lie would be comparatively easy.
“His name is Thomas McKinney. He’s thirty-five and unfairly handsome.” Picturing him, every detail of that too-attractive face and long body, was easier than she’d like. “He has dark, curly hair with a little silver just starting at the temples. Pale skin. Eyes like…” She thought about it. “In the Caribbean, you know how the water close to shore is turquoise, but if you go out a bit further, it’s ridiculously blue? That’s his eye color.”
Cowan made a weird choking sound. “Ridiculously blue?”
Engrossed in her description of Thomas, Callie barely heard the intern. “He’s tall. Lean, but really strong. When we had to move our encyclopedia collection, he was able to carry these enormous stacks of books.” Well, until he’d tripped over a cart and dumped various volumes all over the polished wooden floor. “Plus, patrons flirt with him all the time, and he doesn’t seem to notice.”
