Liars Like Us by Mary Campisi

Author:Mary Campisi
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781942158356
Publisher: Mary Campisi Books, LLC

Chapter 12

Tate’s bliss lasted fewer than twelve hours, just long enough for him to believe he and Charlotte had a chance at happily-ever-after. He’d left her asleep in his bed and had placed a note on his pillow. Take the day off. We’ve got a lot of planning to do. Love, Tate. He’d done something as stupid as draw a heart by his name. Foolish. Idiotic. There were times in a person’s life that were too good to be true, and marrying Charlotte Donovan was one of them. Correction; marrying a woman who loved him and had been honest with him was too good to be true.

The phone call from Marybeth Caruthers came minutes after he arrived at his office. She told him about Charlotte’s visit and her accusations, told him everything he needed to hear to know the woman he loved had betrayed him. She’d really thought he’d fathered a child with Marybeth? And kept it a secret from her? Evidently so, because she’d driven two hours and conducted her own interrogation.

She hadn’t even trusted him enough to ask him the truth.

He dragged a hand over his face, cursed under his breath. That’s why Charlotte was crying last night. She’d realized what she’d done and worried he’d find out about it. But she hadn’t told him herself. Nope, not Charlotte. She’d gambled that he wouldn’t find out and she’d lost. What else had she done? What other files had she scavenged around in, looking for dirt? Damn it, he’d trusted her, but she hadn’t trusted him enough to believe he might be one of the good guys—one of the Alexanders who didn’t have destruction and menace in his soul.

Did she even care about him? Had she ever cared about him? And love? What a joke. Oh, she’d said she loved him, but what did that really mean? Were they simply words to her? He would’ve bet a lot of money that he’d be the first one to tell her I love you. But it had been Charlotte. Now why was that? His brain raced with hundreds of possibilities, none of them good.

Had she been playing him this whole time, setting him up for a big fall, or was she after his money and his name?

Like all the other women he’d known?

She’d never seemed to care about money, but he hadn’t missed the fancy car, the designer handbag, or the sunglasses. Even her jeans were high-end. How did she afford them with random jobs that were probably low paying and sporadic? Did she have a lot of debt? Who knew? She’d acted like she didn’t want to touch his sister’s closet, but after a little prodding, she hadn’t hesitated to go after armfuls of dresses, slacks, scarves, handbags—all designer, of course.

He knew Fred had employed a private investigator weeks ago to check out Charlotte’s background. When Tate found out, he’d been furious and close to firing the man who’d been with the company for decades. Of course, he’d refused to look at the file, but now things were different.

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