Page 21 of Twisted Truth

I take another look in the mirror. With the heels and the short hemline of the dress, my legs look extra long. And I must admit, it’s not a bad thing that I began dancing when I was three and danced all the way through college. I used to dream of dancing professionally, but past injuries made that path not a very practical one. I still dance occasionally, but I only take classes for fun now. And even though it’s been years since college, I still have a body sculpted from a lifetime of dance. That will work in my favor tonight since I’m stuck wearing a dress that’s a size too small.

“You look lickable!”

“Lickable?” I giggle.

“Lickable. You’re lucky I’m straight and have a boyfriend. You look so hot, it’s criminal.”

I snort again. Zahra is the ultimate hype girl. Which is why she’s on video chat with me, because without her, I don’t know that I’d have the courage to go out like this.

“Thank you, for the millionth time and for the millionth thing. You are literally the best, and I’d be nothing without you!”

“I got you! Now go out and do whatever the fuck it is you’re doing clubbing for work, and pray that all your male coworkers don’t fall in love with you!”

“Yeah right. But thank you! You’re the best! I hope you have an amazing shift, and we’ll probably get home at the same time tonight.”

“And I want all the details then!”

“You got it.”

7

ELLA

“Oh my god, Ella,” Matthew says, fanning his face with his hand. He’s standing beside a large black, and very fancy car, outside Zahra’s building. “You look so hot. Like, I almost forgot I was gay for a second, you look so hot.”

I laugh and give him a hug. “You look freaking hot, yourself,” I say, appreciating his tight fitted shirt and pants.

“Asher and Emily decided we’re all going to start at the same club so we can get on the same page, then our groups will break up from there.”

The door to the car opens, and Mr. Langford steps out. I freeze for a second.What is he doing here?When Matthew said he’d be coming to pick me up, I assumed he meant in his own car. Not Mr. Langford’s.

My mouth goes dry. He’s still in his black suit, but his tie is loosened, and his collar is open a bit. I’ve tried to ignore his beauty since yesterday, because I didn’t want it to affect my work performance, but I can’t ignore it now. It’s slapping me in the face.

My heart stutters.

“Ella,” Mr. Langford says, straightening up. In surprise? His brows lift, then he settles his face into neutrality. “You ready?” he asks Matthew.

“Yes, let’s go.”

Mr. Langford moves to the side, holding the door open for me. “Thank you,” I say, as I climb in, bending to the side a little awkwardly to keep from flashing my ass to the CEO. God, what an insane problem to have on a Tuesday night.

The back of the car has two benches that face one another rather than a normal backseat. I didn’t realize they made cars like that anymore, and I’m not sure where to sit, so I scoot all the way down the bench on the driver’s side of the car. Matthew climbs in and sits on the opposite bench, and Mr. Langford takes a spot on the same bench as me, but on the passenger side. A bulky security guard sits in the front passenger seat.

“Asher and I have some business to work on while we drive, I hope that’s okay,” Matthew says.

“It’s fine,” I say, quickly.

Traffic is New York traffic, so the car moves at a ridiculously slow pace. Mr. Langford leans back in his seat for a few minutes before sitting forward to take off his suit jacket. Then he loosens his tie fully, and slides it off, tossing it onto the opposite bench near Matthew.

Stop watching him undress!I silently shout to myself. But do I listen? No, because I’m a weak bitch.

Next, Mr. Langford unbuttons the wrists of his sleeves and rolls them up. Again, I try to force myself to ignore the corded muscles of his forearms, rippling with the movement. But again I fail, as I find that task impossible with such delectable forearm porn just two feet away from me. Mr. Langford is a specimen of a man, and my stupid, traitorous eyes sneak peek after peek until I catch Matthew smirking at me. I feel a blush creep up my neck, and I look away, fully embarrassed to be caught perving on Mr. Langford.

I watch out the window as Matthew and Mr. Langford discuss his schedule and the rough outline of the strategies our team has created for all of the upcoming public events that need Mr. Langford’s approval. It all seems straightforward until Matthew mentions a memorial for Mr. Langford’s grandfather.

“No,” Mr. Langford growls. “That one is off limits.”

The air in the car charges with a strained energy.