Page 109 of Everyone’s a Liar

Livia arched a brow. “Are you taking a vacation or going back to work?”

“Touché.”

They shared a smile, but before Livia could speak, a tall, gorgeous man in jeans and casual T-shirt strolled into the room with a small suitcase and a bakery bag that smelled like heaven.

“Okay, I brought the clean clothes that your father dropped by the office and some beignets fresh out of the deep fryer. Is there anything else you need?” Finn abruptly noticed Bryce wasn’t alone. “Sorry, Livia. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You’re not,” Livia assured him, suddenly feeling like a third wheel. Time to move on. “I just wanted to stop by and check on Bryce.” She sent the sheriff a smile. “And to say thank you.”

“Just doing our—”

“Job. Yes, I know,” Livia interrupted, wondering if law officials practiced that line. With a shrug, she leaned down to give her friend a gentle hug. “I’ll see you later. It looks like you’re in good hands for now,” she whispered in Bryce’s ear. “Enjoy them.”

“I think I will,” Bryce agreed.

Pretending she didn’t feel a pang of envy at the knowledge her friend was going to be thoroughly spoiled by her handsome, sexy companion, Livia left the hospital and drove to her office.

She parked at the corner to make sure she didn’t get blocked in, then used the side entrance that led to her office. The new front window was in, but she didn’t want to risk joggling it until she had confirmation everything was dried and painted and ready to go.

Once inside, she flipped on the lights and headed toward the hallway that led to the front lobby. She would take a quick peek to make sure the recently shampooed rugs were dry and the holes in the wall repaired. Then she would go home and try to rest.

She was passing by the storage room when she came to an abrupt halt. She’d heard a rustling sound. Did they have a mouse? Aggravated by the thought of vermin chewing on her expensive supplies, she pushed the door open and flicked on the overhead light.

Her heart ricocheted against her ribs as she caught sight of the familiar male profile and broad shoulders visible beneath an expensive silk shirt that was tucked into a pair of black slacks.

Winston Durand.

“You,” she breathed. “What are you doing here?”

Winston slowly turned, and for the second time in the span of twenty-four hours, Livia discovered herself on the wrong side of a gun.

“Christ, you’re determined to get yourself killed, aren’t you?” Winston snapped, his handsome features tight with a smoldering anger. “I hoped Adrian would take care of you, but once again I’m left dealing with a Benoit mess.” His brows snapped together as Livia giggled. “Why is that funny?”

Livia felt weirdly lightheaded as she stared at the intruder. Was she hysterical? Maybe. Another giggle escaped her lips. Yes, definitely hysterical.

“That’s exactly what Adrian claimed as he was hauled away by the sheriff last night. He said he was cleaning up a Benoit mess.”

Winston curled his lips in disgust. “That’s not going to happen to me. Adrian is an idiot. I’m too smart to get caught.”

Livia ignored his boast. “Why are you here?”

“Looking for the diary, obviously.” He held up his hand, revealing a slender book with pink flowers imprinted on the cover. Her mother’s diary. “It occurred to me last night that we’ve been searching in the wrong place. It was doubtful your old nanny would know your home address, but it would be easy to locate your new business. Especially after you had your ribbon-cutting splashed across the front page. And I was right.”

Livia’s gaze moved to the stack of packages piled in the corner. She was constantly receiving promo items from various office supply chains and marketing firms. She pulled them out to look through them when she was getting ready to create a new order. Stella’s package must have ended up there.

She shook her head, a wave of sadness rolling through her. How much tragedy could have been avoided if she’d just opened the envelope when it arrived? Then she desperately pushed aside her regret.

The past didn’t matter. She was once again fighting for her future.

“What do you care about the diary?” she demanded, genuinely baffled. “My grandfather’s crimes and the fact that the family covered them up have already been exposed. There’s no way you can protect Celeste from the scandal now.”

“You think I give a shit about Celeste?”

She blinked at the revulsion in his tone. “Why wouldn’t I? You asked her to be your wife.”

“No, I was forced to ask her.”

Livia recalled Remy’s suggestion that there was something sketchy about the relationship, and her own suspicions when she’d met Tara, the too-pretty nurse.