The Vixen's Deceit: Peculiar Tastes #4 by Nikki Sloane

Author:Nikki Sloane [Sloane, Nikki]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Shady Creek Publishing
Published: 2022-10-03T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

The small pub was one of the few freestanding buildings inside the castle walls. It was quaint and exactly what one would expect: green leather chairs were perched over tartan carpet, and wood paneling decorated the walls. I sat alone at the bar, a nearly empty bottle of water in front of me, plus a tumbler of Scotch I hadn’t touched yet.

I made another attempt to jot my thoughts down in my notebook, but my head was a jumbled mess. The hot shower had helped somewhat to glue my fractured mind back together, but the cracks were still there, making it hard to stay on one thought for longer than a few seconds.

Well, except for one.

I kept seeing the word liar written across Chelsea’s forehead.

A few barstools away, two men laughed and compared their experiences through Void. Both sounded American and wore the white medical ID band like I did.

“Did you ever think about tapping out?” the younger guy asked the other.

“No, but the contortionist in the chapel nearly made me shit myself.”

His voice was heavy with appreciation. “That part was sick. For me it was the doctor scene. I hate needles.” He took a sip of his drink, and a sly smile widened on his face. “But it was worth it to get to see the girl in the elevator again. God, she was so fucking hot.”

I stared at the label on my water bottle, wanting to peel it away from the plastic with my mind. Anything to focus on instead of their conversation. But they were too loud to ignore.

“Yeah, she’s come a long way since Satterfield.”

A puzzle piece fell into place, making my gaze fly to the men. Beneath the bar, I balled my hand into a fist of self-directed frustration.

I’d understood right away, but the younger guy made a face. He didn’t get it. “What?”

“Satterfield—they sell car insurance or something. Anyway, Chelsea—the girl with the pink hair? She was in one of their commercials. I think it’s where her car’s on fire and all she’s worried about is the ice cream melting in the trunk.”

I’d recognized Chelsea but couldn’t place her at the time, and my heart sank to my toes. She wasn’t a PA for Void . . . she was its fucking star.

Was anything she’d told me true? And how had I been so stupid as to believe what we’d had was real?

“Oh, wow.” The younger man nodded. “You’re right. Her hair was different though”—he shrugged—“and I guess I didn’t spend that much time looking at her face, if you know what I mean.”

Disdain rolled through the older guy’s expression. They were strangers and probably would’ve avoided each other out in the real world, but there weren’t many options in here for people to talk to, so neither could be picky.

“Right.” The older guy shifted on his seat and swirled the drink he was holding. “You know, I’ve done the last few seasons of Void, and they really stepped it up this year. The elevator falling scene was amazing, and not just the mechanics of it.

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