Page 15 of Expecting an Argument
“You and me both, sweetie,” Kathy replied. She turned to Olivia. “What about you, fancy shoes?”
Olivia’s eyes dropped to her menu. “Just the short stack of pancakes.”
Kathy took up Olivia’s menu and left us on the porch. The faint sizzle from the griddle inside told me that she was going to be occupied for the next fifteen minutes—plenty of time to expose a liar.
Olivia reached into her large black purse and pulled out an aluminum blister pack. She dumped a small white pill into herpalm and then popped it into her mouth, probably thinking I wouldn’t notice.
I raised an eyebrow. “What was that?”
She swished her tongue in her mouth for a few seconds before answering. “Anti-nausea medicine. Dr. Copeland hooked me up after Thanksgiving dinner.”
Fuck. She really thought she was slick, didn’t she?
She blinked and tilted her head slightly. “You know, Dr. Copeland? Tyson’s dad? Owns the pharmacy?”
“I know who he is,” I responded.
I pushed the sleeves of my Lindsay University crewneck up to my elbows and then leaned on my forearms. “OK, cut the bullshit. How much do you want?”
She quirked a brow. “Excuse me?”
“I’m not playing your game, Adams. Do you want your fake-pregnancy extortion money paid in a lump sum now? Or do you want it in installments over the next eighteen years?”
Her mouth fell open. “You…you…complete jackass! I’m not lying!”
“You might be loath to remember, but I got an A in Calculus just like you.” I balanced the table knife on the blade’s edge and spun it once. “So I know your story doesn’t add up. Which was the lie, Adams? The pregnancy or the IUD?”
She slammed her palms on the table so hard that the knife fell from my hand. “I wantnothingfrom you. In fact—”
She reached into her bag again and pulled out a wad of dark fabric.
“Here!” she snapped as she tossed the fabric at me.
I caught it before it could knock over the mimosas—my jacket, the one I had worn to the class reunion. I dusted off the shoulders and found a hot pink sticky note pasted to the edge of the sleeve. I peeled it off and examined the bubbly script written in black marker.
“Work until your name is on the building?” I read.
“Ignore that.” Olivia folded her arms and her cheeks flushed beneath her layers of makeup. “Your jacket has been in my backseat for weeks…it must have gotten tangled up with the boxes of stuff from my office.”
I folded the note in half and slipped it into the pocket of my jeans. Wait, she wouldn’t have boxes of office junk in her car unless…
A smile crept up my face. “They fired you, didn’t they?”
She tightened her arms across her chest. “My career is none of your concern.”
I shook my head. “Come on, Adams. Don’t play coy when I know what you taste like.”
Her cheeks burned red and she turned away, pretending the catfish pond was suddenly very interesting.
What was the sense in being embarrassed now? Besides, she had tasteddamn good—gave me the same feeling as wearing flannel and eating a cinnamon roll after dinner.
But exposing her deceit would taste even sweeter.
“It was a sudden…parting of ways,” she finally admitted.
So that was the why behind the lie. She got pregnant from some random hookup, her horrible law firm fired her for it, and she was desperate for security.
If I thought prudish Olivia Adams begging me for more sex would be a satisfying revenge, watching her crawl back to me because she fucked up her life gave me a high better than anything I had ever tried in a club bathroom.
