Keep Me If You Can (If You Can #3)

30. No It Isn’t, You Fucking Liar

Chapter thirty

No It Isn’t, You Fucking Liar

“Y ou’re so full of shit,” Reid said.

I scoffed loudly, partly because I was offended and mostly because I forgot he was in the hotel room with us. “Excuse me?”

“No, he’s right,” Sydney said. “It’s not resolved at all, you fucking liar. What about JP?”

“What about JP?” I asked.

She gave me an unimpressed look that smeared mascara along her brow bone. “Nell.”

“Don’t ‘Nell’ me,” I said, passing her a Q-tip. “There’s nothing to resolve there. I don’t want a relationship. JP does. We’re not together. Poof. Fucking resolved. Now we can go out and I can be my slutty, fun self and find some French guy to celebrate with.”

“I don’t believe that for one second,” she said.

“I don’t really care what you believe,” I said, annoyed. “I don’t want JP.”

“Not at all.”

“Not even a little bit.”

Reid coughed in the background. “ Sureyoudon’t .”

“No one asked you,” I said.

“Okay, but he’s still not wrong,” Sydney said. “Ignoring what happened with JP isn’t going to make it go away.”

“Nothing happened ,” I said. “He had feelings he shouldn’t have had and we ended things.”

“And you’re sad about it.”

“I am not .”

“You’ve been moping for weeks. You—”

“I haven’t!” My voice pitched up and I tried to calm the flare of anger that was warming my cheeks. “I had a huge falling out with my dad. That was the main issue.”

“You had a pregnancy scare and a breakup at the same time,” she said. “And no matter how much you insist you don’t like JP, I’ve been listening to you talk about him for months now and—”

“Syd, I don’t want to hear it,” I said.

“Even things with Anne-Marie aren’t the same. Sure, you’re talking again, but—”

“Anne-Marie has finally accepted that me and JP are never getting together,” I said. “If she’s stopped bothering me, you have no excuse.”

Unfortunately, that turned out to be both bullshit and a total setup, which I found out approximately three minutes later when someone knocked at the hotel door.

“What are you doing here?” I asked as Anne-Marie breezed past Reid into the room, Remy trailing behind her.

“ Bonjour, chérie ,” she said, her tone bright and almost business-like. “We cannot stay long. We’re going to the dinner party at your father’s because my dad is trying to make a good impression on the Martelles. They threatened to stop working with him because he won’t drop the Thibaults but—”

“Wait,” I said. “The Martelles are going to the dinner party?”

“Yes,” she said. “Why?”

Oh, just the little thing where my dad had offered to cancel the whole party for me and as much as I’d realized that was a big deal, I hadn’t realized how big it was. “Nothing.”

Anne-Marie shrugged. “Anyway, I have some things to say to you, chérie .”

“To me?” I asked.

She nodded. “You and Jean-Paul.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” I put my makeup brush down on the dresser a little harder than necessary.

Well, a lot harder than necessary. The powder on the end puffed into the air and my lipstick nearly flew off the edge of the dresser, but Sydney caught it in time.

“Kidding you about what?” Anne-Marie asked. “You have not been yourself and—”

“Says who?” I demanded.

She gestured at Sydney. “Your friends who see you every day. And I am worried about you, too. Even Jean-Paul is worried, and he—”

“Why the fuck would JP be worried?” I asked. “And why are you all talking about me?”

She ignored my second question. “Because he knows you. He may not outright say it, but I know he is worried.”

“He doesn’t know anything about me,” I said.

“He knows enough to be in love with you.”

Anger lurched up my chest and into my throat. “I wouldn’t trust him to know the difference between a hat and his own ass if he thinks he’s in love with me.”

Anne-Marie looked amused, despite the way I was glaring at her. “I seem to have hit a nerve.”

“Yeah, you have. The nerve where you said you weren’t going to bring this shit up with me again. I know it’s weird that I fucked your brother, Anne-Marie, but it’s not up for discussion.”

She tapped her fingers against the dresser, then leaned on it. “You know, you are right.”

“Thank—”

“It is weird that you fucked my brother and lied to me about it,” she said. “So perhaps I am entitled to say a few words before we drop it completely.”

“I—” I started, but nothing followed it.

Because she wasn’t wrong. She was playing off the guilt she knew I had about the situation, but she wasn’t wrong .

Anne-Marie smiled, the corners of her large brown eyes crinkling. “As I thought. Now, Nellie, chérie , listen to me. You and Jean-Paul are perfect for each other. You have been in love—”

“Stop right there,” I said. “No, I haven’t. And I am not.”

She waved a hand at me. “Call it what you want. Anyone with even fifty percent of their vision remaining in a single eyeball could see that.”

“It is pretty obvious,” Remy said.

“It is not!” I said.

“No, it is,” he said. “Even before everyone knew you were sleeping together, it was obvious.”

“If you are too stubborn to admit it, that is to your detriment,” Anne-Marie said before I could snap back at Remy again. “You spent a summer loving him, you loved him enough to let him take the virginity you oh-so-virtuously prized when we were eighteen—”

Blood drained from my face. I had never admitted that to Anne-Marie. “He told you?”

“In excruciating detail.” Perfectly white teeth gleamed at me through Anne-Marie’s grin, though there was a hint of regret in it. “It was partially my fault. I think perhaps Jean-Paul thought it would disturb me enough to make me go away. But I am very persistent.”

“No shit,” I muttered, not looking at anyone in the room.

“Nellie, he cares for you deeply,” Anne-Marie said.

“He didn’t tell you that.”

“He told me he popped your cherry,” she said smoothly. “What else do you think he’s told me?”

It was a good point. I didn’t say anything else.

“ Chérie , even if you do not want to be with him, get closure.” She opened her purse, taking out a Post-It note like the ones JP used to leave on my car, and held it out to me. “He feels awful about things happening the way they did. Deny it all you want, but you do too. You would both feel better if you talked things out.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“My brother’s new address,” she said. “He moved to start his new job. You can go see him.”

I stared at the Post-It for a moment, then flicked my eyes up to Anne-Marie. Slowly, I reached out to take it.

Then, holding her gaze, I crumpled it up and put it in my mouth.

“How does that taste?” she asked patiently as I chewed.

I spit it into my hand, then threw the saliva-soaked clump of paper into the garbage can. “Like winning.”

Anne-Marie and Sydney shared a look, then Anne-Marie shrugged.

“Alright, chérie ,” she said. “I have said my piece. I will not bring it up again.”

“None of you better,” I said, glancing at Sydney from the corner of my eye.

“I make no promises,” Reid said from the bed.

I was still grumbling angrily as Anne-Marie said goodbye and left. Sydney didn’t say anything once the door was shut and I leaned into the mirror, aggressively putting on way too much blush.

“Is your plan to sit around here the rest of the night, Reid?” I asked. “Or are you coming out with us? Because you can if you want but make it clear you’re with Syd so it doesn’t mess up my chances of getting laid.”

“Yeah, I’d rather not do that,” Reid said, flipping through the channels on the TV.

Sydney didn’t say anything and Reid wasn’t looking at her, which made it even more impress that he knew hurt had flashed across her face.

“Because clubs aren’t my scene,” he added quickly. “Not because—”

“Shut up,” Sydney muttered. “Are you almost done so we can go, Nell?”

“It’s like, seven o’clock,” Reid said. “What clubs are open this early?”

“We’ll stop for food first,” I said.

“I’ll come with you guys for dinner,” he said.

“Maybe you should order a pizza or something,” Sydney said, then closed her eyes so she could put on her setting spray.

I ignored the two of them, instead going to my bag and digging out the dress I’d wanted to wear.

And then, when I couldn’t find it, I pulled out the dress I’d actually brought.

Which was the same fucking dress I’d brought to Mont Tremblant for JP’s work thing.

Which was fine. It was a cute dress. I could get away with it at a club. It was short and fit me nicely and was revealing in a classy sort of way.

But I wasn’t going for classy.

“Wow,” Reid said when I walked out of the bathroom a while later. “That’s…”

“Did you cut up your dress?” Sydney asked, frowning.

“I had a vision,” I said, tugging the edge of the now-incredibly-mini skirt down a bit.

“A vision of your tits falling out?” she asked.

“It’s not that low cut,” I said.

She raised her eyebrows, then walked over and hooked a finger in the bottom of the even deeper V I’d cut into the neckline of the dress. “I can literally see your tattoo when I do this.”

“Also my nipples. So win-win.” I pressed the fabric down again. “Come on. I want to go out and I’m not ending the night until I get fucked or fucked up, whichever comes first.”

And if I had to put money on it, I was going to say it would be the former, based on the fact that we were in the club for about twelve seconds when we were sent our first drink.

“Told you the dress was a good idea,” I said to Sydney as the bartender pointed out the gentlemen our drinks were courtesy of.

“I never said it wasn’t,” she said. “I just said your tits would fall out.”

I smiled prettily at the two men the bartender had motioned to, then took a sip as I looked around the room.

We’d left the hotel closer to eight and grabbed dinner, but it was still early enough that the club wasn’t in full party mode yet. That was fine by me; I didn’t need a club full of people to find someone to sleep with, and the faster I found someone, the faster I’d be able to go get laid.

And there were enough people there for me to be a little choosy. A bachelorette party was getting table service at one of the large booths in the corner and a couple of guys hovered around the DJ booth, trying to get him to play their requests. A couple who seemed to be really into exhibitionism ignored everyone’s glances as they made out on the mostly empty dance floor and a few groups of friends sat at various tables and booths throughout the bar. Most of them looked to be tourists who didn’t realize Montreal’s night life started later than they thought it should, but there were clearly some locals there.

I say clearly, because I knew them.

“Syd,” I said. “Fuck me if I’m wrong, but is that—”

“Mother fucker !” Sydney gasped, her eyes going wide.

“And that’s her?” I asked.

She stared, nodding slowly as Olivier slung his arm around his curvy redheaded wife, Clara, who was sitting next to him at one of the high-top cocktail tables with another couple. I didn’t recognize the woman, but the guy, on the other hand…

“That’s Cody,” I said. “The groom from the bachelor party the night we met them.”

Sydney nodded, her lips pressed tightly together. I elbowed her excitedly.

“Now’s your chance, Syd!”

“Let’s just go to a different bar.”

My head snapped towards her. “What?”

“I—”

“You came to Montreal to deal with this,” I said. “Just because he wasn’t at the awards thing—”

She shook her head slowly, her face twisting. “Nell, I can’t. I… I just want to go.”

“I’ll do it,” I said.

“You don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t have to,” I said. “But remember when I said I wanted to get fucked or fucked up?”

“Yeah, but—”

“I think getting into a fight should be added to the list.”

“He was at the luncheon,” she said.

I gaped at her. “ What ?”

“I chickened out.” Her voice shook. “I saw him there with her and I just… I don’t want to hurt her.”

“She needs to know he’s cheating, Syd,” I said.

“Yeah, but in public?” She chewed her bottom lip. “I don’t want to embarrass her. And I… what if he…”

She didn’t have to finish for me to know how scared she was. She didn’t have to justify it, either. Not when there was a non-zero chance of Olivier doing something that could hurt her. Both of us watched the table and a few moments later, Olivier stood, gesturing towards the bar.

Perfect.

“Let me do it,” I said. “Then you don’t have to worry.”

She hesitated, then her shoulders sagged in defeat. “Fine. Just be nice about it, okay?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” I said.

“Nell—”

But I’d already started across the bar towards the table.

“Excuse me!” I shouted over the music when I was close enough. Three sets of curious eyes turned to me. “Hi! Cody?”

Cody blinked, confused. “Uh… yeah?”

I grinned. “I know you don’t remember me. We met at your bachelor party.”

He glanced nervously at the woman sitting next to him, who’d stiffened. “Did we?”

“Don’t worry, it was nothing bad,” I said to his wife. “My name’s Nellie. I helped the guys out with a scavenger hunt and just wanted to come over and say congratulations.”

“The scavenger hunt,” Cody repeated, his forehead creasing before realization dawned on him and he burst out laughing. “Oh, shit! Baby, this is the girl who gave me her panties and made out with Christian and Jesse.”

“I did way more than make out with them,” I said.

His wife squealed with laughter and pressed her hands together. “Oh my God ! He told me all about that. And”—she clapped excitedly—“you know Christian and Jesse have been together basically ever since?”

An excited grin spread on my face. Not because I finally knew I’d been right about Christian and Jesse, but because she’d given me the perfect opening. “Oh, good ! I’m so glad to hear that. They were adorable together. And, like, what a nice thing that multiple relationships got started at that party, you know? That’s such good karma for your marriage.”

“Multiple relationships?” Cody’s wife repeated. “Who else—”

“No one,” Cody said. “It was only Christian and Jesse.”

“No, there was one more!” I said brightly. “My friend Sydney and your best man.”

And the thing was, even if I hadn’t been faking the whole thing, I would’ve instantly known something was wrong. The attitude at the table shifted; Cody wasn’t looking at me, but his wife’s smile disappeared and from the corner of my eye, I saw Clara sit back.

But I was faking it, and I figured I’d go for the nuclear option.

“It wouldn’t have been my best man,” Cody said. “Maybe someone else?”

“I could’ve sworn she said Olivier was your best man,” I said. “She’s been here to visit him a few times since. The cop with the curly brown hair? They made out in front of everyone and she went back to his hotel. He’s been spoiling her rotten, honestly, getting nice hotels for her every time she visits. It’s so hard to find good guys like that these days, you know?” I smiled stupidly before turning to Clara. “Do you know him, too?”

Clara stared at me, silent. After a moment, her eyes trailed to something behind my right shoulder and stayed there.

And I knew he had to be behind me.

“Yes,” she said. “Olivier is my husband.”

“I sure am,” said the voice behind me. “Who—”

And then he looked at me and stopped.

“Did you know about this?” Cody’s wife asked.

“I… what…” Cody said.

“Did you know?” his wife asked. “Did you know your best friend is cheating on my sister?”

Oh.

Oh shit .

“Wait,” Olivier said. “Wait, I can explain—”

“Did you know, Cody?” his wife demanded. “Did you see him make out with this girl ‘in front of everyone’?”

“What girl?” Olivier said. “I’ve never seen this girl before in my life.”

“Surprising, since it’s apparently her friend you’ve been fucking,” Cody’s wife said.

Through it all, Clara just stared at the table. I looked at her, then at Olivier, who was glaring daggers at me.

“Oops,” I said. “My bad. Good luck with that.”

And then I walked away.