The Sweet Life #2: Lies and Omissions by Francine Pascal (ebook reader 7 inch .txt) 📕

and just happened to be in the neighborhood, so decided to drop in and check her references in person.

Robin’s boss, the Filmart office manager, seemed happy enough to chat about her. He was a slightly overweight man in his forties. Even though he worked at a movie studio, it wasn’t every day a pretty blonde took the time to ask him such detailed questions.

Elizabeth found with a little smile and nod of encouragement, Larry volunteered Robin’s whole story.

“She was great,” he said. “Nice girl. Dependable. Always came in on time. Was happy to work overtime, too.”

“Did she like being a secretary?”

“Well, I knew she wanted to work on films,” he said. “She was a graphic designer or something.”

So far, Elizabeth thought, everything Robin had said checked out. She hadn’t found a single inconsistency yet.

“Why did she leave?”

“That’s personal information I couldn’t give you even if I did know, which I don’t. I haven’t seen her since she had that internship this past summer. After that she quit.” He sat down behind his own desk.

Elizabeth leaned forward.

“Last I heard from her was just after she did that internship at the Patman Foundation. She called up crying one morning.”

“Crying?”

“Yeah, really upset. She said she couldn’t tell me what happened, but she said she was quitting.”

“When was this?”

“Oh, July, I think.”

That would’ve been around the same time Robin claimed Bruce had attacked her. Elizabeth swallowed.

“What do you think happened?”

Larry shrugged. “Maybe she broke up with her boyfriend? Who knows. But she said she was really sorry but it was personal and she couldn’t go into the details.”

Elizabeth felt the knot in her stomach grow. Robin had said she’d felt so victimized after that night with Bruce that she didn’t leave her house for a full week and that she’d had to quit her job.

“Don’t get me wrong, she’s a nice girl,” Larry said. “I’d hire her back if she called me. She never missed a single day before that. Whatever happened must have been really bad.”

“Thanks, Larry. You’ve been really helpful.”

Elizabeth picked up her purse and walked out the door, hoping her hands weren’t shaking. The more she dug into Robin’s past, the more impeccable she seemed. The evidence was stacking up against Bruce.

She got into her car just as her phone chirped, announcing an incoming text message. She looked at the phone and saw it was from Bruce.

SORRY I WAS GRUMPY THIS MORNING. LET’S DO SOMETHING SPECIAL FOR DINNER.

The thought of going home to Bruce—and, actually, spending any time with him at all right now—just made Elizabeth feel queasy. How could she keep up the pretense? She’d never been any good at pretending.

Already this morning, he’d seen right through her. She was trying hard to be the supportive girlfriend, but even he could tell she was faking it. Now, armed with new information supporting Robin’s side of the story, it would just be ten times worse.

Elizabeth texted back.

GOT HUNG UP AT WORK WITH A LATE DEADLINE. DON’T THINK I’LL MAKE DINNER TONIGHT. MIGHT EVEN STAY AT JESSICA’S.

Jessica’s town house was slightly closer to the newspaper office than Bruce’s mansion. This was pure avoidance, but Elizabeth couldn’t think of a better idea.

I REALLY NEED YOU RIGHT NOW. PLEASE COME HOME.

Elizabeth’s heart ached. She hated not being there for him. He sounded so lost. Maybe she was just being selfish. Then she remembered Robin’s tearstained face.

If he was guilty…then he’d have to learn to soothe himself. Because Elizabeth couldn’t be with him. Nothing could make a near-rape okay, no matter how much he’d had to drink.

She decided to go check on Robin. Basically an orphan with few friends, Robin truly had no one. She texted Bruce.

SORRY. I CAN’T.

That much, Elizabeth thought, was true.

Chapter Thirteen

Bruce looked at his phone and sighed. Elizabeth wasn’t coming home. She was avoiding him. He’d been in love with her for years, long before she’d even seen him as anything more than a friend. He knew her better than she knew herself, and it was obvious she doubted him. Every day, it seemed, she moved further and further away from him, and he didn’t know why. He asked her all the time what was wrong, and yet she refused to tell him. Or if she did talk, it came out as a veiled accusation that he might be lying about what had really happened that night with the intern. Or was it some veiled reference to high school? Yes, he knew he hadn’t always been the nicest guy. Sure, he did stupid things in high school, but didn’t every seventeen-year-old? And, besides, he really thought that was ancient history. That short-tempered, spoiled kid wasn’t him now. He’d changed. Grown up. Matured.

Of course, none of that seemed to matter these days since he felt like he was fighting against enemies he couldn’t see, phantom accusers who popped up to hit him and then disappeared before he could strike back.

Just like the intern. If he only knew who she was, he felt convinced, he could solve this mystery. But he had no idea of her name or where she lived. All his power and connections weren’t helping, either. Someone was keeping her hidden someplace where she could say all those terrible things about him and not even give him the chance to defend himself properly.

Rage bubbled up in his throat and for a second, he felt the urge to throw his phone across the room. He thought about how satisfying it would be to watch the phone’s screen—and Elizabeth’s text—go dark as it cracked to pieces. He almost let the phone fly, but a beep from an incoming text stopped him.

He glanced at the phone’s face, hoping Elizabeth had reconsidered. Maybe she would say she was sorry. Maybe she’d come home.

But, no. It wasn’t from Elizabeth.

I’VE GOT NEW INFO ON YOUR CASE. MEET AT NEVIN’S BAR TONIGHT?

The text came from Gavin MacKay, the private detective he’d hired to try to find his accuser. Bruce had hired