Beneath These Lies (Beneath, #5)

“They have penises, so I’m saying they do.”

But her point was well taken—none of the customers I interacted with spurred the least bit of interest. The tourists were transient, and I wasn’t getting involved with someone long distance. The local guys who came in here and thought they saw something they liked had a tendency to flash their money around. I was happy to take it because it kept my bottom line healthy, but there was nothing attractive about a man who felt the need to use money to get my attention.

How about a flirty conversation that actually got my blood pumping? Witty banter? Apparently that was too much to ask. Hence, why I’d given up on men.

Trinity’s mouth dropped open. “You said penis. At work.”

A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. Eighteen years and three days did not an adult make.

“And you’re eighteen, as you’ve informed me a dozen times in the last few days, so I’m assuming this isn’t a new word for you.”

“No, but . . .”

At least I knew I could still scandalize my employees by throwing out the word penis on occasion. “Face it, I’ve seen more of them than you, and I’m really not impressed with what comes attached to them.”

Especially because you couldn’t tell whether the man attached to the package fell into the category of man or monster—or a combination of both. My humor fled at the thought, but Trinity didn’t pick up on that.

“Well, if you saw Derrick’s package—”

I covered my face and groaned. “No, thank you. I do not need that visual.”

A husky laugh interrupted us.

Crap. I cringed as I thought about a customer overhearing this particular conversation. But when I jerked my hand away from my face and caught sight of the person in the doorway, relief flooded through me, along with the reminder that I really needed to get that door chime fixed.

Yve Santos smiled as she strolled inside on fabulous red platform sandals and a retro yellow dress. Actually, it was Yve Titan now.

“If you’re talking about packages, I’m down for this conversation.”

I pushed away from my desk and stood with a smile. “I bet you are. What brings you in today?”

Trinity eyed Yve with awe. My friend had become something of an idol to her. Yve had also grown up in less-than-ideal circumstances, but now owned a successful shop in the Quarter and was married to Lucas Titan, a rather infamous businessman.

Yve crossed the wide wooden planks of the gallery to meet me in the middle. “I came to invite you to my belated bachelorette party. Tonight. Sorry for the late notice. I wasn’t going to have one, but Elle badgered me into it. As soon as I said yes this morning, she had it planned in about five minutes. I think she’s afraid Lucas is going to find out and kidnap me before she has a chance to start ordering shots.”

That sounded about right. If ever there was a man likely to kidnap his wife, Lucas Titan would be at the top of the list.

“Then by all means, we should go out and celebrate while we have the chance.”

Warmth filled my chest at the happiness Yve had found. She and I had come to know each other after facing the same monster—although it had been infinitely worse for her because he’d been her husband—and we’d both held our heads high and survived. Thrived even. And for that reason, I would go out and celebrate.

“Good! I’m so glad you’re coming. We both deserve to celebrate.” Yve squeezed me with a quick hug and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “We’ll come by and get you at your place tonight around eight.”

“Perfect. See you then.”

As soon as Yve left, Trinity looked at me with a big grin on her face. “Bachelorette party? Sounds like the perfect opportunity for you to find yourself a man.”





“MORE SHOTS!” ELLE YELLED, SWIRLING her hand in the air.

The shot glasses lined up on the table seemed to multiply, and I didn’t know if there were actually more or if I was seeing double. Rubbing a hand across my face, I stared at the glasses again.

Seeing double wasn’t usually a concern for me. I never let myself get more than a touch tipsy because I hung on to my control with an iron grip.

But tonight had been different. My vision was hazy, and my legs had been less than steady the last time I’d made the trek to the bathroom with Yve and Elle and another one of their friends. Girl posse, Elle called it. I’d never had one of those before, but I liked it.

“Glad you’re having fun, Val,” Elle said, bringing over one of the newest round of concoctions.

“We can be a girl posse, but only if you don’t call me Val,” I said, accepting the shot.

“Fair enough.” She raised her shot glass and we clinked before downing them. When we both slammed them on the table, she added, “I’m also glad you’re losing that whole prim-and-proper thing you had going on. We need to find you a man to help you lose it the rest of the way.”

Yve joined us. “What’s this about finding Valentina a man?”

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