Small Town Girl, Big City Lies
Maisie
The balcony was small – barely big enough for two. But I made up for it by squeezing myself against the far railing as I gave Griff one heck of a glare. "Well?"
He frowned. "I wouldn't be doing that if I were you."
I crossed my arms. "Doing what?"
He pointed. "That railing – you shouldn't trust it."
Now that was hilarious, so I did the only thing I could. I laughed, long and hard. In the night breeze, it sounded too harsh, too fake, and too much like somebody else. But I did it, anyway, even as Griff eyed me like I'd just lost my mind.
Had I?
Probably.
When my laughter faded, he asked, "You wanna share the joke?"
"Sure, why not?" I gave another bark of laughter. "The railing. You told me not to trust it."
"And that's funny?"
"Sure, because it's not like you're an expert."
He eyed the railing like it was about to collapse. "I don't need to be an expert to know it's not safe."
"Forget the railing." I gave him a tight smile. "I meant an expert on trust. How would you know anything about it?"
His shoulders stiffened. "If you've got something to say, just say it."
"Maybe you should say it."
He looked genuinely confused. "Say what?"
"For starters, how about the truth?"
"What, you mean about my name?" He said this like it was nothing. And then, as if to prove it, he added, "I go by Griff. Ask anyone. It's not a big deal."
He still wasn't getting it. I made a sound of frustration. "It is, too."
"Why?"
"Because you told me that your full name was Griff Griffin."
"No. You said that, not me."
I shook my head. "What?"
"I remember that talk. You asked my last name. I told it to you. End of story."
"Oh, please. It's hardly the end. I put the two names together, remember? We even joked about it. You know…Griff Griffin?"
His voice was annoyingly calm as he replied, "No. You joked about it. I just listened."
I stared up at him. "Are you freaking serious?"
"Dead serious."
I felt like screaming. "But you let me assume something that wasn't true."
With a half-hearted chuckle, he said, "Relax, it's just a name."
"Relax?" I sputtered. Surely, he couldn't be that clueless. With his full name, I would've had the chance to learn more about him, to figure out who he really was, and – here was the big one – to stop his stupid train of bullshit in its tracks.
I'd felt sorry for him, for God's sake .
Forget the dumpy apartment. It was the rest of it, too – the lies about his family and the fact that he'd been hiding a silver spoon up his backside the whole time.
Turns out, I should've felt sorry for myself, because the way things looked, he'd been playing me from the start.
He sighed. "Look, I get why you're mad. I'm just saying, it's not a big deal."
This was the second time he'd said that, and the repetition wasn't helping. "But you've been lying about everything."
"Or nothing," he shot back.
"And what does that mean?"
"It means, just because I didn't lay out my whole history, that doesn't make me a liar."
My jaw clenched. "How very 'big city' of you."
He gave a slow exhale, like I was the one being unreasonable. "I already told you, I'm not from the city."
"Oh, yeah? Then what about your place in Chicago?"
He was silent for a long moment before saying, "I meant not originally." Again, he paused. "And if you remember, I told you I was living in Chicago. Or did you forget?"
"I didn't forget anything. But before I invited you to stay at my place, it might've been nice to know that you've got a million-dollar bachelor pad." More likely, it was worth ten times that. But after the first million, why bother counting?
His mouth twisted like I'd said something sour. "It's not some playboy penthouse, if that's what you think."
Penthouse – it was a funny word, considering that's exactly how the place was described. "Yeah, right," I scoffed. "And how much did it cost?"
His only reply was a hard look as if to say, That's awful personal, don't you think?
Yes, I was being nosy, but he owed me at least some truth. Refusing to let it drop, I asked, "Was it over a million?"
He still said nothing.
I tried again. "Over ten million?"
More silence.
I raised my eyebrows. "Wow, that much, huh?"
He didn't even bother to deny it. He just looked at me like I should've known. With a low scoff, he finally said, "Shit, it's Chicago."
"So?"
"So if you want to live downtown, you're not gonna do it for cheap, not if you don't want bars on your windows."
I swear, he had an answer for everything. And yet, he wasn't giving me any of the answers I needed. And the place in Chicago wasn't the point. It was just a symptom of something bigger. Softly, I said, "So…this bet of yours? Was I part of it, too?"
He blinked. "What? No. Why would you say that?"
"Because it makes sense. I can just see it…you and Ryder having a good laugh at the townie's expense."
He shook his head. "The townie?"
"Yeah. Me. So…was I part of it? Did this friendly wager include putting the moves on a 'stupid' local?"
His breath hitched. "What?"
"You know…someone you could get lucky with, even if you had no money?"
He looked horrified by the suggestion. "What kind of monster do you think I am?"
"I don't know." I gave him a pleading look. "That's the whole point."
His expression hardened. "Is it?"
"Okay, fine. Let's say it's simpler, like you had to find a place to crash without getting caught. Is that it?"
"Hell no."
I couldn't help but scoff. "You'll have to forgive me, but that's a little hard to believe."
"Why?" he demanded. "Because I didn't lay out my history?"
"No. Because you told me things that weren't true."
But this, too, was only part of it. It wasn't only about the facts. It was the way he had let me spill everything about myself while hiding his own history behind half-truths and mistaken assumptions.
To think, I'd let him dive deep into my financials. I'd told him about Devon cheating. I'd opened not only my heart, but my own humble home in ways that seemed incredibly foolish now.
And Griff? When it came to his own history, or lack thereof, he'd milked my emotions like a dairy farmer on a deadline.
I wasn't just angry at him. I was angry at myself. Like a total idiot, I'd bought all of his bullshit, hook, line, and sinker.
His mouth thinned. "So you're pissed that I'm rich?"
My jaw dropped. "Is that what you think?"
"Yeah, well…I couldn't help but notice that you liked me better when I was poor."
Unbelievable. "So it's my fault?"
"It's nobody's fault," he said. "And I still don't know why you're angry." His voice lost some of its edge. "The thing with us…I wasn't faking it, if that's what you think."
"Oh, really?" My tone grew snotty. "So you weren't manipulating my feelings for the result you wanted?"
His eyebrows furrowed. "What result is that?"
I gave him a smirk that he could take however he wanted.
Griff took a single step forward, only to pause as something sharp flickered across his face. Then, he said it. "If I just wanted a fuck-buddy, it wouldn't have been hard to find."
His words felt like a slap, and my arms dropped to my side. My mouth opened, but no sound came out.
His expression softened. "Maisie…"
"What?" I snapped.
"I wasn't talking about you." His gaze locked on mine, raw and unflinching. "I meant you were the opposite."
Yeah, right. Call me a fool, but my voice grew pleading. "But if that's true, why would you lie about your dad?"