Page 39 of This Beautiful Lie
Playing pretend with a man I barely knew, riding in a car I didn’t own, with no way to leave if things went south.
Panic started to rise in my chest, wrapping around my ribs like a boa-constrictor. I focused on the horizon, trying not to let it show.
Then George began to circle in the back seat, over and over again, before his giant head landed on my shoulder with a thud.
I blinked, startled, when he let out a large huff.
“George!” Dean scolded, pulling at his collar to lead him toward the back seat again, but George easily lifted his giant head out of Dean’s grasp and only moved closer to me.
I laughed. “Sorry, boy, is the back seat not big enough for you?” I scratched his ear, leaning my head against his, somehow comforted by his slow steady breath. He was so calm, so happy, that just being close to him made my entire nervous system settle.
“He has no manners,” Dean said with a gruff, watching George from the corner of his eye. “It’s my fault. He’s used to having the whole Jeep to himself.”
I nodded, then glanced out the window again, but something twisted strangely in my chest.
The whole car to himself?
Not just the backseat?
The whole thing?
I shifted, just slightly, my fingers still resting in George’s fur.
How often had it just been the two of them?
How long since anyone else had ridden beside him?
“Can I ask you something?” I asked before I could talk myself out of it.
Dean flicked his eyes in my direction. “Sure. Anything.”
I adjusted in my seat, turning to face him. “Why did you hire me?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean… Why not bring a real girlfriend? I’m sure there’s a line of women who’d love to go with you. You’re tall, handsome, you have a dog…” My voice trailed off when I saw the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Go on,” he said.
I could feel heat climbing up my chest. “You know what I mean,” I muttered, then turned toward the window again. “If you don’t want to answer?—”
“You think people like me don’t have trouble finding a date?”
His tone surprised me. Not angry, just... more honest than I expected.
I lifted my chin upward. “People like you usually don’t hire people like me.”
There, I said it. It was ugly, but it was true.
“People like you?”
The softness in his voice almost gutted me.
“You know what I mean,” I said, more defensively than I intended, but I couldn’t help it.
Men like Dean only came to women like me for two reasons—when they were looking for a distraction or had something to prove.
Men like Dean dated lawyers. Consultants. Women with clean resumes and perfect teeth.
