Free Twisted Lies 2 by Sedona Venez Page A

person
I knew, and if he’d hidden it, there had to be a good reason.
    I pushed the journal back into the false
bottom, banged the base back into place, and then dumped everything
I’d pulled out back on top of it, promising myself to further
investigate the ledger over the weekend.

SIX
SINTHIA
    Jade and I walked out of my townhouse and
down the stairs toward Kirby, Jade’s chauffeur.
    He was leaning against the expensive luxury
SUV. He pushed away, tilting his head toward us. “You look lovely,
Miss Michaels.”
    “Thank you, Kirby.” I smiled impishly at
him. “How’s my favorite man?”
    He smiled. “Still way too old for you.”
    I winked at him. “Age is nothing but a
number.”
    I loved messing with Kirby. He was an older
version of James Bond—gray but still hot and dangerous.
    Jade rolled her eyes. “Will you get in?”
    He chuckled while opening the door, and then
he helped us maneuver our gowns into the SUV. He strolled around to
the driver’s side and slid in while we fastened our seatbelts.
    Kirby fastened his seatbelt before turning
the key and revving the engine. He smoothly pulled into the
Manhattan traffic before zipping in and out
of the snarl of taxicabs and buses .
    Jade pulled out her cell, pressing her cheek
against mine. “Selfie time,” she chirped. “Smile, Sin.” She pouted
prettily.
    I scowled. “Nothing to smile about,” I
responded dryly.
    “Got it.” She took the photo. “And posted.”
She kissed my cheek. “And next time, you’d better smile because I
assure you that grimace will be torn apart by my followers.” She
threw the cell in her clutch.
    “Nice. More critics. That’s exactly what I
need right now.” I rubbed my temple, feeling a wicked headache
approaching. “Why am I doing this again?” I mumbled under my breath
while frowning at the New York City gridlocked traffic.
    She leaned her head on my shoulder. “Because
there’s a special place in hell for people who don’t support their
besties.”
    “I hate these types of events with rich
people parading down the red carpet like racehorses.”
    “Hey”—she gave me a fake pout—“rich person
here.”
    I petted her silky black hair like a horse’s
mane. “And you’re my favorite rich person,” I cooed.
    “So rude.” Jade swatted my hand.
    I laughed. “Come on. You know what I mean. I
hate these things. Red carpets are so fucking intimidating,” I
explained. “Not that the paparazzi will be remotely interested in
me, but I do have to walk down the thing in order to get into the
gala.” I winked at her. “And more importantly, the open bar.”
    “The red carpet is scary, even for me, but
you can do this.” She reassuringly squeezed my hand. “I’ve seen you
give a lecture on fashion design in front of hundreds of sarcastic,
know-it-all young fashion students. You can do this.” She leaned
forward and tapped on Kirby’s shoulder. “Don’t you agree?”
    “Miss Michaels is tough as nails.” Kirby
winked at me in the rearview mirror.
    All too soon, we slowed, and I could see
flickers of light up the road. We were in line to be dropped off.
Kirby pulled up to the venue and stopped.
    I stared at the flashing cameras in shock.
“Why the hell do you do this?”
    I sat there, stuck, trying to get mentally
prepared to step out in front of the paparazzi’s cameras. It was
sensory overload. The bright side of this whole fiasco was the
media coverage I would get from the Bellisarios wearing my couture
gowns tonight.
    Kirby got out of the SUV, opened the door,
and helped Jade out.
    “Jade! Jade!” the paparazzi screamed.
    Jade was undoubtedly one of Hollywood’s most
beautiful actresses, and the media was obsessed with her glam style
and beauty. But I knew she was more than just good looks. She was
genuine and smart.
    Kirby reached for me.
    I took a deep breath and hesitated. “Well,
all righty, time to make tonight my bitch,” I grumbled.
    Kirby smiled at me, and I grabbed his hand.
I put