Tell Me Lies: A Novel by Carola Lovering

Author:Carola Lovering
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9781501169656
Publisher: Atria
Published: 2019-02-05T04:00:00+00:00

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Two weeks later I began my job on Liberty Street in downtown New York. I love Manhattan, right down to the pavement, the sheer tonnage of the structures that comprise it. Every scent and noise of the city evokes power and propulsion, the religion of its trade.

BR3 Group’s offices were cramped and disorganized. My cubicle was barely that—it was more like a tiny desk with walls, smashed in a row of other cubes just like it. My boss was an overweight fortysomething moron named Gary Kubina who’d been made a VP at BR3 Group without having spent a day in graduate school. He had graying temples and a framed Pace University Bachelor of Business Administration diploma hanging on the wall of his office that made me cringe every time I saw it.

I moved into Luke’s spare bedroom in Chelsea in an apartment he also shared with his buddy Geoff. I wasn’t too keen on sharing an apartment with my brother; he’s really very anal, especially with Kathleen around all the livelong day. But his place was affordable and not a terrible commute from work.

On Friday after my first full week at the office, I got home and ended up drinking a six-pack and watching Family Guy by myself. Geoff worked brutal hours for a hedge fund and was never home, and Luke and Kathleen had gone to Bed Bath & Beyond to look at curtain rods—I’m not joking.

I felt lonely as shit, actually. I needed to reconnect with my friends from high school; I hadn’t been great at keeping in touch during college. Some of them were coming to my graduation party, but that wasn’t for another couple of weeks. I tried calling Carl, but it rang and went to voice mail.

I turned off Family Guy and took a shower. I tried whacking off, but my head was all fuzzy from the beers. After toweling off I climbed into bed and took out my phone. I hadn’t talked to Lucy since I’d been back in New York, and I realized I didn’t even know if she had definitely come back east for the summer. I had invited her to my graduation party, which I doubted she’d forgotten. I typed a new text.

STEPHEN: Luce, you back in New York? Hoping you can still make it to my grad party on the 14th . . . but I don’t think I can wait another two weeks to see you. If you’re around, dinner this weekend? It’s been way too long.

I waited, already imagining Lucy’s sexy bare body on top of mine. But she didn’t respond all night, and I fell asleep with my phone in my hand. She hadn’t replied by the time I woke up the next morning, either. It started to make me a little nervous—and I hated to feel nervous because of Lucy—but I told myself it was only a matter of time before she answered. I knew the way her mind worked; it was led by the mental weight of her emotions.

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