Truth or Lies? by A. Gomez (books to get back into reading TXT) 📕

tour of the mansion but he just talked about the room we were in and the adjoining room. The wait staff brought us dessert and an after-dinner drink. Chang never stopped talking. It was as if he hadn’t spoken to anyone in years and now I’d opened the floodgates. Every now and then, I was able to comment and ask a question or two but it was more as if I was in class and he was the professor giving a lecture. He was still very animated, and at times would get out of his seat and walk over to a chair or a lamp or a bowl, and explain why he bought it or where he was when he bought it. Surprisingly, I wasn’t getting anxious or on edge. He gave me his word that Betty Lou would be safe as long as I didn’t get out of line. I had to believe that for my own peace of mind. Plus, this was all very entertaining and I really wanted to gain Chang’s trust.

I stifled a yawn. It felt late. Very late. I peeked out one of the windows and saw that it was pitch-black outside, or so it seemed since the lights were so bright in the dining room. The wait staff was no longer in the dining room with us. I didn’t notice them leaving. When did they leave? It must be very late. I didn’t want to let Chang see I was getting tired just yet. I still needed to find a few of those jammers before he sent me to my room.

“Are you looking for something, Dr. Langley?”

“No, not looking for anything, Mr. Chang, just noticing that the lights are very bright in here.” I mentally gave myself a high-five for thinking so quickly on my feet, surprising myself. I was beginning to get very good at lying.

He looked surprised. “Should I dim the lights? Is that what you would like, Dr. Langley? A more romantic atmosphere?”

Whoops! “No, if you do, then I won’t be able to see all the art and also, possibly, I will start to get too sleepy with such a relaxed atmosphere.”

“Oh… yes… very good.” He sounded confused. Crap. I guess I’m not that good after all. He was still gazing at me, trying to make sense of my comment. I began to fidget in my seat and wring my hands. Change the subject, Isabel Grace!

“Mr. Chang, you mentioned you were trying to find the original The Isle of the Dead painting. May I ask where you’re looking for that?”

“Well, the artist is Swiss so I’m starting where he was born. Beyond that, I can’t really say right now. It’s still too soon to know where this search will take me, or if any of it will be legal,” he smiled wryly. “I looked at several copies of it on the internet and I have to say, my interest is piqued.”

Whew. Crisis averted.

34

The rest of the evening went smoothly. We talked art and furniture that was more art than furniture. We even had a debate regarding artists versus people who designed furniture that looked like art. He walked me back to my room like last time and took my hand in both of his, saying his adieu. I walked into a dark room with only a small nightlight illuminating just enough for me to see where the bathroom was. I felt relieved to be away from him. I didn’t have to be “on” anymore and I could just relax and collect my thoughts. I didn’t know how long I could keep it up. My knowledge of art and designers was not as extensive as his and if I couldn’t keep his attention or keep him happy then I might be gone sooner rather than later. This was so exhausting.

I quickly glanced at the clock as I made my way to the bathroom. It was two in the morning. Betty Lou was fast asleep in our bed. I looked over at Lilly and she had fallen asleep with a magazine on her chest. Maybe she was trying to wait up for me?

I decided to take a quick shower. I was tired of thinking, talking, debating and being an actress. If this weird yet awful scenario that I was in were a movie, then I would’ve taken the Oscar home tonight for my performance of best female actress in a lead role to show interest in all things art and artistic furniture. I laughed at my analogy. The hot water was soothing. I didn’t realize my muscles were so tense until I started to relax just a bit under the cascading waterfall in that astounding shower. There were jets all around me hitting every crevasse of my body and a large spout above my head, against the wall, giving the illusion of a mini waterfall. It was impressive.

I put on the lingerie Chang got me since mine felt thoroughly gross. I got into the PJs Debbie gave me, brushed my hair and teeth and just stood in the middle of the bathroom looking around. It was a huge bathroom with every amenity a girl could want and need. Perfect for a house full of females. Chang knew what he was doing. He was taking care of his property—his investment. Bastard! I looked at myself in the mirror. The strawberry on my cheekbone was starting to turn purple. It was tender to the touch. I winced when I gently pressed on it. I stared into the mirror, looking at the pink PJs I was given, looking at my pale face. I looked tired, scared, distressed and fraught with rage. Despair began to flood through me. I was desperate to get us all out of there. So much so I was willing to come out guns blazing… or rather gun, since I only had one and just a