Beautiful Liar by Tara Bond Read Free Book Online

trousers, and then draw away. I had no idea what he’d done, until he held up a round orange sticker that read: Ten per cent discount on bulk orders .
    I looked up and saw he was waiting for the moment when I worked out he’d actually been trying to do me a favour—not grope me, as I’d assumed.
    I felt my cheeks heating up again. For once in my life, I was speechless.
    â€œOh, and trust me,” he said, making no effort to disguise the fact that he was enjoying my embarrassment. “I don’t need to go around molesting unsuspecting women. I have enough begging to be taken to my bed.”
    He screwed up the sticker and tossed it into a nearby bin. If I’d tried that manoeuvre, it no doubt would have bounced off the basket and landed on the floor, but for him, it went in perfectly.
    He gave another little bow of his head. “Lovely to meet you, Miss Nina Baxter.”
    Then he turned and sauntered off.
    It was only after he’d gone that I realised exactly what I’d done—not only had I humiliated myself, but I’d just insulted the owner’s son. He’d seemed to take it well enough, but what if he chose to complain? And suddenly alongside my acute embarrassment at having misread the situation, I felt an overwhelming terror that I was about to lose my job.

Chapter 6
    I found it hard to sleep after my shift. Every time I closed my eyes, my run-in with Alexander Noble went through my head.
    Eventually I must have managed to nod off, and when I woke a few hours later I resolved to put it from my mind. I had more pressing problems to deal with—like where I was going to live. It wasn’t fair to keep imposing on Doreen, but my other options were limited. As a single adult in London, I wasn’t exactly top of the priority list for housing.
    Luckily our social worker, Maggie, had put in a word with her colleague in the housing department. He’d managed to find me a place in a bed-and-breakfast over in Wapping—where the council housed people while they looked into whether they deserved more permanent accommodation.
    The manager of the B and B was a small, weasel-like man,with shifty eyes and a BO problem. He showed me a tiny room, which had just enough space for a single bed and an ancient wooden wardrobe. Masking tape covered the gap between the skirting board and the carpet, apparently to keep the cockroaches out.
    I knew I should be grateful, but as I looked around at the peeling paint it was hard to see how living there was something to be pleased about. I could hear a baby crying through the paper-thin walls, while its mother tried to hush it. That wasn’t going to make for a great night’s sleep. But it was this or the streets.
    On the way out, he showed me the dingy bathroom I’d be sharing with eight other people. There were no kitchen facilities. Fifty people resided in the building, he informed me—there were five floors with ten rooms on each. Given the number of children I saw, I had a feeling the number of people was actually a lot higher.
    As we walked back down, I tried to ignore the smell of piss in the stairwell.
    â€œBreakfast is from seven until eight thirty,” he said. “You need to be out by nine, and then you can come back in at four.” I thought of the late nights I was going to be doing at Destination. I’d have to get up and out, and then nap later.
    He looked at me expectantly. “First week’s money up front,” he prompted, when I hadn’t made a move.
    I quickly handed over the cash. After paying for my mum’srehab, I had just enough savings left over to see me through to my first paycheque from Destination.
    â€œOh,” he said, once he’d counted it. “I’m warning you now, don’t leave anything valuable in your room. Not if you want to hold on to it.”
    Hearing that, I couldn’t wait to move in.
    * * *
    I left Wapping and headed over to the