off.
“I've always thought that you wanted me to go to law school,” I say.
“No, honey. You're getting confused with your father. I wanted you to marry well and be well taken care of emotionally, romantically, and physically. Since you don't think that Alex is the man for you, then I want you to focus on your career and work on building your brand so that one of these days you get paid the money that you deserve for your work.”
“What is that exactly?” I ask.
“Millions,” she says, taking my breath away.
31
Emma
Liam calls me again and again. He leaves messages.
I don't reply. I don't want to talk to him. I don't want to hear more lies.
Slowly, my curiosity starts to get the better of me. I have so many questions and he's the only one who can answer them.
Besides, there's something else.
I know that I should put my feelings for him away, but I simply can't. I need closure.
I need to know why he lied.
I need to know why he deceived me.
A few days later, I finally cave. I meet up with him not far away from my office, in downtown LA.
It's a two and a half hour drive for him, but he acts like he lives around the corner. He promises to be there at one.
I get to the restaurant early and ask to be seated next to the window looking out onto the busy street outside.
It's a casual dining place as far as the restaurants in this part of town go. Everyone around here caters to the people working in the big buildings, but this is one of the few ones without white tablecloths.
I run my fingers over the wood grain just below the place setting and wonder what I'm doing here. I'm not giving him another chance.
So, why am I talking to him at all?
I tell myself that it's because I'm a journalist. I want to get a quote. I want him to confirm or deny certain things about my story.
Deep down, I know that's not the only reason why.
I had left so suddenly and without explanation that I feel like I owe him something.
He also owes me something.
“Hi,” Liam says, walking up to me.
He's dressed in a well-tailored slim cut suit that accentuates his lean physique.
He is tall, dark, and dashing.
He has perfectly smooth skin and hair that is only a little bit out of place in that casual unkept sort of way that's incredibly sexy.
Sitting down across from me, I watch the way his Adam's apple moves up and down. His eyes meet mine and my breath stops in the back of my throat.
Not long ago those eyes looked at me in that same way when he was lowering himself on top of me. I want to be back there more than anything again, but I know that it cannot happen.
“Thanks for meeting with me,” Liam says.
“Thanks for making the drive out.”
He is about to say something else and then I realize that I'm not the only reason why he's here.
Of course, how stupid of me.
It doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is my story and getting to the bottom of his lies.
“You’re meeting with Alex again, aren't you?”
He starts to say no but then thinks better of it.
“Yes, I am. I wasn't going to, but when you finally asked me to come, I thought that I would take the opportunity to come here and save myself another trip.”
I look down at my plate and then back up at him. I don't know what I wanted him to say.
I guess I wanted an apology.
I also feel like I owe him one as well.
“You left that day without saying a word,” Liam says.
It's an accusation but also a statement of fact.
“Yes, I did,” I admit.
“Why?”
“I found out the truth about who you are and I was startled.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re not Liam Parish. You’re Liam Linville. Although your driver's license says that your name is Peter Schmidt. Why?”
“You had no right to look in my wallet,” he says.
“I know.”
We glare at each other, but neither of us moves. A waiter comes by and asks for our orders. I haven't even looked at the menu.
Liam asks him for more time.
I turn my attention toward the menu and decide to order the first thing that I see. Then I wait for him to decide on his dish.
He moves his eyes over the menu very slowly, reading about each plate and debating about the best choice.
I know that he's