Free Lies Lovers Tell by Zuri Day Page A

to deal with now. Sam Walters with her phone number scrawled on a piece of paper? What was that about?
    Maya pondered the Sam Walters question all evening, ignoring calls from people who usually always got through: Trish and Stretch. But when Sean called and she let him also go to voice mail, she knew this Martha Jones mess was eating up too much of her life. She had to make a breakthrough quickly and take back her life.
    “This charade game is getting ready to be over,” she announced resolutely to Lucky. Lucky’s ears perked up, his eyes fixed on Maya. “First,” Maya continued, buoyed by her attentive audience, “I’ve got one more week of housecleaning, and I’ve got to make it count. If I can help uncover some unsavory plot against Zeke, led by a role-playing Sam Walters, I can ride that wave right into my own company, and gladly give Jade what she’s trying so hard to steal.”
    Maya got up from the couch and continued, walking back and forth in her living room. “No, on second thought, I need to handle Jade. She’s proven in no uncertain terms that she can’t be trusted, trying to move into my office and I’m not even gone yet.”
    Lucky found something more interesting to focus on at that point: fly, gnat, Maya wasn’t sure what. But two swipes of the paw and he was off the couch and down the hall, off to capture what he obviously thought belonged to him.
    There’s one more thing , Maya thought, as she plopped down on the couch and hugged a throw pillow to her stomach. She had to come clean with Sean; tell him she was Maya, not Macy, and the reason why she lied. She reasoned that would be easier to do once she’d shed the Martha persona and was back into Maya full-time.
    This three-persona lifestyle had taken its toll. She was getting ready to kick Martha and Macy to the curb, and roll up on Sean as Maya and Maya only. It was the woman she really was and prayed that for Sean…it would be all the woman he needed.
    In the meantime, there was something Maya needed. An answer for why Sam Walters had her phone number.

10
     
    “Just be careful,” Neil cautioned Sean. “These guys never give something for nothing. If they offer any information of value, they’re going to want something in return.”
    “Nothing in life is free, man,” Sean responded. He was well aware of how the game worked; and aside from a tidy sum of “greasing the pipe” money, he had a tidbit of information he felt the men he was meeting with could use.
    Neil continued. “Campbell worked for Zeke for years and his partner knows L.A. politics like the back of his hand. I think you’ll move your little project along tonight, my friend.”
    Sean looked at his watch. It was getting close to the time for his dinner meeting. “All right, Neil, let me get moving.”
    “Sure thing, man, take it easy.”
    “Hey, if it comes to me easy, I’ll take it that way. Thanks for the connect, man.”
    A little over an hour later Sean, now Sam Walters, sat in a corner booth of the dimly lit restaurant, able to scope out the entire establishment without being seen. He cautiously nursed a Manhattan and mindlessly twirled the cherry garnish. Without thought, Sean had morphed into a slightly awkward, good ole Black guy who easily blended into the woodwork. His undercover persona was the exact opposite of the real Sean Wynn, who if he’d walked in as himself would already have been accosted by at least two of the three tables full of women surrounding him. Even with paunch, mustache, and beard, he’d received a wink from a forty-something strawberry blonde.
    Sam politely waved away the waitress who came over to refresh his drink. He doubted he’d even finish the barely touched Manhattan in front of him. Sean was a very light drinker, but he’d learned over the years that having a drink around gave off a casual, just-one-of-the-boys air. Businessmen he met tended to lighten up with a drink in their hands. They usually ended up drinking much