Vivid Lies by Alyne Robers Read Free Book Online

of it. He squints as he looks at my face, then his gaze travels down my body.  
    I'm struck with nerves because he looks and smells so good. With his leather jacket and sunglasses propped on his head, he looks the perfect bad boy. Totally Brooklyn's type. He is the kind of guy I watch from afar and read about late at night. Kane is the type of guy who goes for my sister, never the good girl.  
    "London?" He's not really sure. They always try to make it sound like a statement but it has that tone that makes your name sound like a question, laced with a hint of worry that they're wrong.  
    "Yeah. Brooklyn just passed out and I wouldn't wake her if I were you. I'm heading out for a shoot that I'm already late for," I say trying to push past him.  
    I wanted to get photos of the sailboats launching for the race in the marina. No one is actually expecting me, but my own schedule is just as important as everyone else's.  
    "I actually came to see if I could take you to your Jeep," Kane says, clearing his throat. "I put gas in it this morning."
    "She let it run out of gas?" I growl. "I told her it was low, and you know what? I should have just stopped for gas myself."
    Kane stares at me expectantly. His black hair is wet like he just got out of the shower. I can smell his soap mixed with the scent of gasoline.  
    "You want a ride or what?"
    "Yes," I say with a sigh. "Thank you. I'll pay you back for the gas."
    I step out into the hall but he blocks me, invading my personal space. I look up at him confused. He offered a ride, right?
    "Shirt?"
    I glance down and notice my pink lace bra. In my hand, I still clutch the shirt Brooklyn tossed to me after she spit her coffee all over me.  
    "I'm always going to be an awkward disaster, aren't I?"
    I drop my bags and pull my shirt over my head as he laughs. It's deep and comforting. Something tells me he doesn't laugh often because it sounds rusty and unused. Kane grabs my discarded camera bags and leads me down the hall. I notice he has bags similar to mine.  
    "You're a photographer?" I ask.  
    "Not professionally, but I take photos," he answers as we enter the elevator.  
    "Cryptic," I mutter.  
    "I'm a private investigator. My photos are for evidence," he explains. "What are your photos for?"
    He asks me like it's a test question and I'm being graded. I feel like there's a right and wrong answer here, but I don't know what.
    "Whatever I get paid for. Memories mostly. Sometimes for art. Some selfies just for fun."
    He laughs again but it's not his amused laugh from before. This is forced and sarcastic. I glare up at him as the doors open and we step into the lobby.
    "So weddings, proms, stuff like that?"  
    "Yeah." I feel like I answered wrong but it's my only answer. "They are moments in someone's life they want to remember forever. When I hand over photos of a wedding, they can always go back and look at the love they shared."
    "Yeah, for that day. Then a year or so later, I hand them photos that show how they broke all those vows they made that day by banging their younger secretary or the nanny."
    "That's just depressing and cynical."
    Our footsteps echo in the garage as we approach a black SUV. Kane throws my bags in the back with his and opens the door for me.
    "But it's the truth."
    "Maybe for some," I argue once Kane is behind the wheel. "Not all couples end in divorce."
    "That's not because they are in love."
    "Then why?"
    Kane looks over at me once we are moving with the morning traffic.  
    "A thousand other reasons. Money, convenience, mutual enjoyment. Sex."
    I shake my head in frustration.  
    "You and Brooklyn are perfect for each other. She is just as distrusting as you are."
    Kane winks and shrugs. I watch as he drives. He looks relaxed without a worry. Not for the first time, I envy Brooklyn. The way she can relax and throw caution to the wind astounds me. Kane is just like her. They don't think about every consequence and outcome. If they do, they don't care.