Believing Lies Read online

  Copyright © 2014

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, character, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental and not intended by author. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means such as electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior written permission of the author of this book. The scanning, uploading and distribution of the book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the author is illegal. Exception in the case of brief quotations embodied in a critical article or review.

  Disclaimer:

  This is a New Adult novel and is not intended for minors. The author does not condone or endorse any behavior enclosed within. Please note this novel contains sexual situations, profanity, and alcohol consumption.

  A novel by Rachel Everleigh

  ([email protected])

  Edited By Taylor Thomas

  [email protected]

  Page building/formatting by BookBaby

  ISBN: 9781483536279

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Dedication

  To Mataya

  My amazing little sister and friend.

  I love you very much.

  Chapter One

  If I looked at one more seating arrangement, I was going to rip my hair out and repeatedly bang my head on my dining room table. Wedding planning was proving to be a royal pain in my ass. After two excruciating hours of looking at various seating configurations and table arrangements, it felt as if my brain was being slowly squeezed in a vise. My mother actually expected me to give a shit about every miniscule detail. I hadn’t realized that the moment I became engaged, she would swoop in like a vulture to take over every aspect of the wedding. I shouldn’t have been surprised either. My mother never did anything halfway, and this was clearly no exception.

  It was a beautiful day outside, and I wanted to go enjoy it. I loved Wisconsin in the summer. I’d much rather be walking around downtown Madison right now, stopping in little shops and making my way to Monona Terrace to look at the lake. Instead, I was stuck listening to my mother and my wedding planner, Monica, drone on and on. Blah, blah, blah.

  “Sienna, did you hear anything I just said to you?” my mother asked, sharply.

  “I’m sorry. What was the question again?” I hoped my tone would soothe rather than agitate her, but the look on her face said I was unsuccessful.

  Obviously annoyed with me, she repeated herself, “What do you think of the tables? I think we should get oval tables instead of round tables.”

  “Oval tables sound lovely,” I answered with forced sincerity. Honestly, I didn’t know why they continued to ask for my input; whatever I said didn’t really matter. We all knew that if I had replied, “Who gives a crap about table shapes?” that I would never hear the end of it, and I’d end up with oval tables regardless. I learned a long time ago to just be polite and go with the flow whenever my mother was around. Why fight against the current?

  I suppressed a sigh and did my best to hide how close I was to snapping. Calm down, Sienna. Sophie will be here soon. Sophie was not only my cousin, but also my best friend. We were only one month apart in age, and at twenty-two years old, I couldn’t remember a time in my life that hadn’t included her. Plus, she was the only person who could slice through my mother’s bullshit like a master swordsman, which was exactly why I could really use her help right about now.

  “I don’t think you’re paying attention,” my mother hissed. “Let me show you the pictures of the tables again.” She snapped her fingers at Monica, and said, “Would you be a dear and hand those to Sienna?”

  Please, God, please, just shut up already! I started to rub my temples counterclockwise, attempting to fight off the migraine that I felt coming on with a vengeance. I needed to get them out of here before my head exploded. I could see the headlines now:

  YOUNG BRIDE TRAGICALLY DIES DURING FREAK HEAD EXPLOSION. POLICE SUSPECT CRAZY, OVERBEARING MOTHER AT FAULT.

  As this image entered my mind, a small giggle escaped my lips. My mother abruptly slammed her hand on the table. She looked like a tiger ready to strike. Did her eye really just twitch? Yikes!

  “Is there something you find amusing, Sienna?” I shook my head. “Good. These are very serious decisions, and I’m getting the distinct impression that you don’t care. I need you to focus. This wedding will be a reflection of our family, and you know what that means to me. We have an image to uphold. Please stop acting like this is an unwanted chore.” Her stern expression softened, and she reached to take my hand in hers. With a rare, genuine smile, she said, “This really will be the happiest day of your entire life.”

  I was briefly speechless. When she put it like that, I felt a little guilty. “You’re right, Mother. This will be the happiest day of my life,” I said sincerely, then added for good measure, “I’m sorry.”

  It seemed surreal that in a few short months I would be Mrs. Trenton Wallace. I had even practiced writing my new name. It was as if I had reverted back to a thirteen-year-old who doodled her boyfriend’s name in her notebook. At least I hadn’t added little hearts . . . Okay, maybe once or twice.

  Trenton hadn’t even known I existed until last year. That didn’t mean that I hadn’t known who he was. About two years ago, his family joined the same country club that my parents were members of. The first time I saw him, he was getting out of the pool, and I literally drooled. Who could blame me though? Trenton was Hot with a capital H. He had short, dark-blond hair, hazel eyes, and all of his six-foot-two-inch body was chiseled. I could bounce a quarter off of his abs, for God’s sake. Unfortunately, my little drool sessions had been few and far between. I hated the country club, and only went there when my parents demanded that I join them. It had been several months before I saw him there again. And when I did, I’d been too intimidated by his good looks to introduce myself.

  When we officially met, it wasn�
�t at the club. What I hadn’t known at the time was that we both went to University of Wisconsin-Madison. I’d been on my way to the campus library when I literally collided with him. My first words ever spoken to him were, “Oh my God, I’m such a fucking klutz!” . . . Yep, I’d dropped the F-bomb after almost knocking him over. To say I was embarrassed would be an understatement. But then the most astonishing thing happened—He asked me out.

  On our first date, he took me to a nice restaurant downtown. We talked about the basics: likes and dislikes, school, and family. He’d been surprised to learn that our parents knew each other and had thought it was a shame that I hadn’t introduced myself earlier. After a few dates, I found that beyond his looks, he was extremely charming, intelligent, and funny. It had taken no time at all for him to ingrain himself deep into my heart.

  Trenton was a year older than I was, and he graduated last year. I thank my lucky stars that I’d been on my way to the library that day. Otherwise, I would probably still be admiring him from afar. Yes, we’d been going to the same school at the time we met, but we’d had no classes together, and the campus was large and spread out. Our circles of friends were very different, so the chance of us meeting socially had been slim. Trenton had been the head of his fraternity, whereas you couldn’t pay me to be in a sorority. I had nothing against them, but it certainly wasn’t my thing. I wasn’t the girl who had tons of friends. I preferred to have a small handful of amazing friends instead. The kind of friends who would bail you out of jail or help you bury a body . . . or wind up in jail with you because they just helped you bury a body.

  The intercom buzzed. Thank God. Sophie’s finally here. I left my mother and Monica at the table and rushed to let her in the building. I chose to stand outside my door and wait in the hallway for her. I didn’t have to wait long before I saw her walking to me, juggling a Starbucks cup, her purse, and multiple shopping bags—most of which appeared to be from Victoria’s Secret. If shopping were an Olympic sport, Sophie would win the Gold every time. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed shopping just as much as the next girl, but she took the saying “shop ’til you drop” to a whole new level.

  A smile lit up my face. “I’m so glad you’re here,” I said, before leaning in and whispering, “Get them out of my apartment, please.” She gave me a knowing smirk and a nod.

  Sophie sauntered into the dining room with her best fake smile plastered on her face. She sat down next to Monica. I saw my mother give Monica an unimpressed look regarding Sophie before masking it with her usual caustic demeanor. Based on the small wrinkles that briefly showed on Sophie’s brow, she noticed my mother’s less-than-enthusiastic response to her arrival.

  Sophie had always tried to pretend that the cold shoulder my mother gave her didn’t affect her. She claimed she actually found it amusing, and part of me believed that. She got a sick enjoyment in ruffling my mother’s feathers, but I still thought it must be hard to have your own aunt constantly treat you like something on the bottom of her shoe.

  “Sophie dear, how pleasant to see you,” my mother said, using a seemingly concerned voice. However, the condescending undertone was more than evident. “We still have a few more things to go over with Sienna about the wedding, so why don’t you go and relax on the sofa while we finish up. After all, you must be extremely worn-out from your shopping.”

  With an overtly saccharine voice, Sophie replied, “How thoughtful of you to think of my comfort, Aunt Clarice. And to think that some people call you uncaring. How crazy is that? Although your consideration is appreciated, I wouldn’t dream of missing out on all of the fun. I hope we’re looking at something super interesting.” She glanced at one of the open binders on the table. “Oh, wow! Napkins.” With a dramatic eye roll, which she didn’t even try to hide, she continued. “I think my expertise is definitely needed. Otherwise you might end up with something like neon pink napkins shaped like flamingos instead of off-white napkins shaped like swans.”

  With a huff, my mother said, “I just remembered that Monica has another appointment to get to. Isn’t that right, Monica? We really should head out.”

  Monica quickly caught on to the thinly veiled lie. “Why yes, Mrs. Trudeau, I think we have gone over everything we needed to cover today.” Turning to me, she said, “Sienna, does two o’clock tomorrow still work for you to meet at the bakery for the cake testing?”

  “Yes, thank you. Two o’clock is good for me.”

  “Well, what a coincidence,” Sophie chimed in. “I just so happen to be free at that time too. How great is that, Aunt Clarice?”

  My mother’s voice was cold, despite the warm smile she wore. “It will be our pleasure to have you join us, of course. We’ll see you girls then.” She grabbed her purse and turned to leave. I felt the stress slowly leaving my body with every step she took toward the door. Just as I was in the home stretch, she stopped and turned back around. “Sienna, don’t be late. You know I hate it when you’re late. I want to go to the florist straight afterwards, so be prepared for a long day. And don’t forget to show Trenton the wedding binders when he gets home tonight. I’ll leave them on the table.” She turned and left, Monica following at her heels.

  As soon as the door closed, Sophie and I went into the living room, where I dropped to the couch and repeatedly hit my head with a throw pillow. With one long, muffled scream into the pillow, I finally let my arms drop.

  Sophie pushed my legs over and plopped down next to me, knocking the pillow to the floor. “Oh my God, Sienna! How did you spend an entire afternoon kissing your mom’s ass? You seriously need to tell her to screw off. Why did she make you hire a wedding planner if she’s going to make you be part of every tiny decision? I thought the point of having a wedding planner was that they, gee, I don’t know, plan the wedding.”

  “I know, right? And why does she think Trenton will want to look at those binders. He doesn’t want any part in planning the wedding, and Mother knows that. Anyway, can we please go get a drink and a burger?”

  “Will you change your clothes first? You look like a Stepford wife. Cross that out. You look like your mother.”

  It was meant as an insult, but since my mother was a very beautiful woman, it was kind of a compliment too. I was wearing a black tapered skirt that hung to my knees, a cream colored blouse, and a string of pearls. It wasn’t my wardrobe of choice, but it was called for today. “Mother made me have breakfast at the club,” I said, explaining my attire.

  “Ah. I see.”

  “I don’t feel like changing right now. I just want to get out of here. And after that pretentious garbage they serve at the club, I could really go for some good ol’ greasy fries.”

  “Greasy food tonight and then cake tomorrow? You’re killing me. You know that, right? Not everyone has an abnormally crazy metabolism like you do.”

  I playfully slapped her on the arm. “Stop being an idiot.”

  Sophie was stunning and had an amazing body. At five foot nine, with long legs and big boobs, which she liked to keep on display in low-cut shirts, she could put a swimsuit model to shame. Paired with full lips, emerald eyes, and auburn-red hair falling in long, loose curls, she was more than a head turner. In the genetic lottery, I had to also admit that I made out fairly well. It wasn’t as if I was anywhere near the looker she was, but I had my own appeal. Like Sophie, I was slender, but my boobs were much smaller, and I preferred to keep them mostly off display. Unlike her vibrant-colored eyes and hair, I had pale crystal-blue eyes and light blond hair, which hung in waves. My lips were also fairly full, but mine usually had a light pink lip gloss on them, in contrast to Sophie’s blood-red lipstick. Not many people could pull off red lipstick successfully, but she could.

  “Where should we eat?” I asked.

  “I’ll let you choose the restaurant since your day has sucked donkey balls so far,” she oh-so-eloquently offered. “You need to drive though because Courtney dropped me off.”

  “Why didn’t she come in?” I asked, puzzled
. Courtney had been my dorm mate before I’d moved in with Trenton. I missed seeing her daily and was disappointed to know she had been so close and hadn’t come up to see me.

  “I mentioned your mom was here,” she replied with a wink. “Not really, but that in itself would have been a pretty good reason.” True. “She’s going to visit her parents in Ohio until school starts again. She said to give you kisses.” It had totally slipped my mind that Courtney was going back home today. I was becoming a crappy friend. I needed to make sure we scheduled a girls’ night out as soon as she returned.

  On our way out of the apartment, Sophie playfully smacked me on the butt and handed me my purse from the entryway table. She also handed me half of her shopping bags to help her carry to my car.

  I begrudgingly took the bags. “Thanks, turdface.”

  “No prob, snatchbasket. Let’s get out of here.”

  Chapter Two

  We went to The Turning Point, a bar downtown that served as a restaurant during the day. We’d been here before at night, but had never eaten here for lunch. I’d heard good things about their burgers, so I was anxious to give them a try. I was a sucker for a good bar burger.

  The place was pretty empty today, and we were immediately seated at a booth. Our waitress was an extremely attractive girl about our age with dark brown hair. She promptly took our order and left to go get our drinks.

  As we waited for our vodka cranberries, I noticed something had caught Sophie’s attention because her left brow was arched Scarlett O’Hara style.

  “I’m in love,” she bluntly declared.

  I cocked my head to the side and looked at her with disbelief. “Oh really? Since when?”

  “Since right now. Look over your shoulder.”

  I did and saw two guys talking at the bar. The bartender was facing our direction, and the other guy was sitting on a stool, his back toward us. The bartender was tall and had short, messy, light-brown hair. He was definitely a hottie! He appeared to be in really good shape under his snug green T-shirt, which had the bar’s logo across it. He had angular features but still managed to keep a boyish look to his face. I couldn’t see the front of the other guy, but his white T-shirt stretched across his back as he leaned forward on the counter, and I could tell he had a well-defined back and toned arms. His hair was jet-black and seemed to be styled in a similar fashion as the bartender’s. I could see tattoos peeking out of his shirt collar and his right shirtsleeve. I couldn’t see much of them other than obscure black lines. Probably a tribal tattoo of sorts, if I had to guess.