Page 5 of Perfect Liar
People were everywhere.
Vacationers loved the historic authenticity, and it offered the best part of the coastline. Tourists filled the shops and the waterfront parks. Longshoremen came to work for the commercial fishing fleet.
My quaint little hometown always posed picture perfect, creating a beautiful backdrop for all the seasonal visitors.
But most of them didn’t realize that when the sun went down, the quiet darkness revealed secrets. Mists often rolled in off the Atlantic, helping to set the stage for drug addiction and crime. And that tragic shitty corruption hit close to home for us…
Jess’s brother had died from an opioid overdose.
“Hey, I’m heading to the art studio now, Jess. Catch up with you later?”
She shut her eyes and lifted her face to the sun again.
“Yeah, see you later for dinner. And many drinks. Have fun with your day-camp kiddos.”
After cleaning up the kids’ paints and brushes, I sent my sister a text message, letting her know I had plans with Jess.
Isabel replied immediately.
You should be having dinner with the man who wants to marry you.
You marry him. I won’t be out too late.
She and our grandmother pushed and pushed for me to get back together with my ex-boyfriend.
Josh Mendes and I had dated for a few years, but we just never got it right. I wanted to love him. He was a good man, a lieutenant with the local police department, but he wasn’t the one for me.
My heart craved the insane collision of emotional and physical bliss that just never happened for us.
My sister and my gran were all I’d ever had, and I knew they meant well. Still, I was almost twenty-four years old and capable of shaping my own future.
Thank you very much.
Glancing at the time, I realized I had an hour to kill before dinner. I locked up the studio and walked to the commercial fishing pier. I often hung out there and sketched the boats, sometimes the people. I sat down on a weathered bench and gazed out over the harbor.
The smell of brine, discarded fish scraps, and sunscreen drifted in on the breeze and back out as the pier’s old bell rang out.
Neptune was coming in.
When I spotted her, the sunshine bounced off her green paint, and she sparkled like a giant emerald on the water. Not sure why, but I loved that old fishing boat.
While keeping my eyes on the boat, my brain’s interpretation flowed directly to my hand. As my pencil’s charcoal strokes covered the paper, I lost the time. But at some point, her deck crew shouted at the shoremen to catch the lines.
Another male voice came from close behind me, so close, making my shoulders jerk.
“Hello, beautiful,” he said.
I got up from the bench, spun around, and blinked up at the very tall man looming over me.
“I didn’t mean to startle you.”
His tone was as deep as thunder, and he had a polished British accent. When he offered me his hand, a rich masculine scent rolled down his arm.
But I didn’t shake his hand. I got too caught up in the fiery detail in his blue eyes. I’d never seen eyes like his so closely before. Finally, I remembered to say something.
“Hi, it’s you. I mean from the parade earlier. You were staring at me.”
He nodded and pushed his hand closer.