The Billionaire's Lie Read online

  Sighing deeply with worry tinged in her blood, Charity stared longingly out the cab window as it whirled around the corner, taking her further away from her sanctuary. What if she hated London? The only things she heard about London was that it was dirty and cold in the winter. Not much different from New York City, but it was still way too foreign.

  “Oh, well. I guess I should stop complaining,” Charity muttered to herself as she wistfully looked out the window.

  “Did you say something ma’am?” The cab driver suddenly asked with what sounded like thick, Scottish accent.

  Charity snapped out of her fog as she realized she was talking to herself out loud. “Sorry, I was talking to myself,” Charity chuckled in embarrassment. “I’m just contemplating on whether London is the right move for me.”

  “London, you say? Hey, I was born there ya know!” The cab driver mused, peering at Charity through the dirty mirror.

  Charity furrowed her brows. “Really? Excuse my ignorance, but I could have sworn you had a Scottish accent,” Charity admitted.

  “Oh, no it’s alright lass. It's a common mistake with Americans! I was raised in Liverpool though, the accent is similar I suppose,” He explained.

  “I see. What about London though? Is it worth a three-week vacation?”

  Snorting, the cab driver tapped on the glass window that separated the backseat. “It’s not for everybody, but if I could be anywhere in the world, I’d be in London. The air just smells different, and life moves faster! I’m sure you’ll enjoy it,” He mused with a joyous tone.

  Charity’s heart felt slightly lighter from the cab driver’s encouragement. Her uptight nature always held her back, but she was determined to steer away from it. Despite the cab being dirty and reeking of old twinkies, it was as if the London native was secretly an angel sent to her. “I’ll take your word for it then!” Charity grinned as she looked out her window. The airport was a few feet away, and the closer they got the more excitement and anxiousness that sparked in Charity’s heart.

  Reaching into her purse, Charity pulled out thirty dollars to pay the cab driver, then waited for the cab to come to a complete stop before she swung open the door. “Thanks for everything!” She called as she hurriedly raced out into the snowy New York street once more, if not for the last time. Soon she’d be in London, England, embarking on her first new adventure in a long time.

  Dragging her suitcase with one hand and her passport in the other, Charity inhaled deeply and walked into the airport with an appetite for adventure.

  ***

  “My god, Matt. I can believe you actually fixed that! You’re a lifesaver!” Damien cried out as he sat on his kitchen floor exasperated and covered in sweat.

  Matt laughed as he wiped his dirty hands on his shirt, then lifted himself from off the floor. “What can I say? It’s my job man,” Matt shrugged. A leaky sink was a simple fix for Matt, but obviously to the untrained hands, or rather Damien’s hands, it was a matter of life or death.

  “Clara’s been down my neck about that damn sink man. She thinks I’m a wimpy lowlife since i couldn’t fix it!” Damien groaned with a permanent frown on his face.

  Matt patted Damien on the shoulder as he packed his tool bag up. “Then just tell her it was you, my friend. I’m sure she’ll find something else to complain about after the sink.”

  Matt lulled his tool bag with him as he headed towards the door. It was midday, and just like most average days, he was tending to work around his neighbourhood. Being the only mechanic in his small neighbourhood, he was always at high demand. Whether it was a leaky sink, busted car engine, or even the occasional unflushable toilet, Matt was the man for the job.

  Cars had been his main attraction for the most of his life. He used to stare in awe at the old mechanic, Leigh Brown, who lived up the street from him as a kid. It was like he was a wizard of cars and no matter what the damage was, Leigh could fix it. One day Leigh noticed the young Matt staring at him work and offered to teach him a thing or two. Ever since then, Matt had been hooked on fixing cars.

  It was his passion and main focus, as well as the only thing that really gave him purpose. That is, of course, after he found himself alone in the world. Love used to be the only thing he wanted in life.

  “So, you got any hot dates tonight?” Damien teased as he followed behind Matt. Damien was Matt’s good friend from primary school, and also one of the top lawyers in London.

  He was a fine fellow with flaming orangy-red hair and a beard to match. His suits always fit a tad bit too tight thanks to the croissants he scarfed down every morning, and his wife, Clara, served as his most stressful case he had ever taken on. But to be fair, Clara was a fox. Tall, short curly hair, and killer legs. Her family was originally from Brazil, but she moved to London for college. Matt felt bad for Damien because he knew his good pal was the perfect target for a woman like Clara. He was a chubby loner with tons and tons of money that he usually blew on cartoon figurines. Now he was up to his nose in bills from high end stores.

  “Don’t you have some five-star restaurant to take your love, Clara to?” Matt shot back with a wink.

  Damien shook his head as he leaned against Matt’s green truck.

  “Listen lad, it’s not so bad ya know? I mean sure, she complains about everything and maxes out me card, but she’s so...so...er…”

  “Hot?” Matt finished for Damien.

  Damien nodded his head, shrugging with a wince. “At least my bed’s not empty at night though, right?” Damien winked at Matt, slapping him on the arm.

  “Yeah, thanks for reminding me you jerk,” Matt fumed, pinching Damien on the arm.

  Matt swung open his truck’s door and climbed in, revving up the engine. With a casual stroll, Damien walked to the window and stuck his head inside, shooting Matt a sympathetic look.

  “Maybe you should try dating again though, friend. It ain’t so bad really. Sure, some women can be snakes, but at least they’re pretty, right?”

  Matt slid on his sunglasses and cocked his head at his clueless friend. “The last time I dated for a pretty face, I ended up married to a monster who slept with my brother, Damien,” Matt bitterly reminded him.

  “Geesh man, you make it sound so dreary when you say it like that,” Damien muttered under his breath.

  Matt sighed in annoyance. He hated being reminded of his past. It was something he fought to forget about, yet it always crept back up one way or another. “Sorry, but I can’t help it. It’s as if it floats behind me like your breath after a salami sandwich,” Matt winced.

  Damien slapped Matt’s arm playfully, rolling his beady, green eyes. “Whatever you ass wipe! Just be careful riding out. You know you get a lil’ crazy on the streets when you’re sad,” Damien warned.

  With a chuckle, Matt put his truck in reverse and started to drive out of Damien’s driveway.

  “Whatever you say lawyer man!” He called from the window. Damien waved him off, with his tight shirt squeezing the life out his chubby chest.

  The wind fluttered into the open window, awakening a grumpy mood in Matt. Damien may be a sad fellow, but he was right about Matt needing to date again. The only thing was that Matt was admittedly scared to date. He was a divorcee after all. Six years ago, he thought he had married the love of his life. She was an easy-going lass with a sweet smile and gorgeous, hazel eyes. But that’s never enough to tell how a person will treat you. Matt gave his entire heart, only for her to betray him in the ultimate way. Matt shook his head, desperate to get rid of the thought. It’d been three years since the divorce, yet the pain had left its mark.

  It felt seemingly impossible to rid his mind of the pain. It lingered around, reminding him how wounded he was. As the memories started to flood in, punishing him with their bitter sweet poison, Matt would become a prisoner to the never-ending scars he bore from the breakup. But they weren’t the normal memories. They came in scattered pieces of events; like broken shards of glass. One moment he’d remember
the way she smiled at him that day they met at the laundromat. The next moment he’d remember the rage that was in her eyes as he found out she had cheated.

  Stephanie. Stephanie Wilks. That was her name. The mere sound of it sent a bolt of anger right through Matt’s heart. The very reason he chose not to say it. The killer part was that she wasn’t angry she had hurt him. She was angry he had found out. And because of it the ordeal, the shy, sweet guy Matt used to be had died. The guy who’d race to buy the prettiest flowers for the love of his life. The guy who would write poems dedicated to his favorite things about her. Stephanie took all those things for granted, but Matt knew he was at fault. Perhaps he needed to be more aggressive. Perhaps women don’t need sensitive men. Perhaps the cheating really was his fault.

  “How could I have been so stupid!” Matt grunted. He was speeding down the narrow road with the radio blasting. His grip was so tight on the steering wheel that his knuckles were white. All he wanted was to drink himself blind at the pub to forget about everything.

  Right as he was about to approach the exit through, with his rage peaking, he suddenly noticed a young woman waving frantically by the side of the road. She had a suitcase laying on the ground next to her and she was covered in mud and snow. Matt had a thought to keep driving but in his rear-view mirror he could see her frantic cries for help.

  “Why do I have to always be the good guy?” Matt grumbled as he started to drive in reverse. He turned off the engine and hurriedly hopped out the car. There was a light rain mingled with heavy snowfall, making his walk over to the young woman hazardous.

  “Are you alright there, lady?” He asked with caution, taking slow steps in the slippery snow.

  The woman shook her head as she fought off the snow and rain falling in her eyes. “No! I’m covered in snow and rain, and I’m in the middle of nowhere!” she cried out in an American accent.

  Matt was taken aback. He hadn’t really met many American women before, but the accent was surprisingly attractive. As he moved closer, he noticed the woman was quite young. She had rosy cheeks, and with the snow and rain, her long, wavy black hair clung to her face.

  “Well you most certainly aren’t from here, now are you?” Matt asked softly, suddenly forgetting about the inclement weather.

  She smiled, revealing beautiful white teeth as deep blush crept onto her cheeks. “I guess my accent gave me away. I’m Charity.”

  Matt grinned, brushing his wet, blonde hair off his face. “Matt. Matt Thunder,” He announced as he held out a cold, wet hand.

  “Thunder? Is that really your last name?” Charity giggled.

  “Surprisingly yes. But I sadly do not have power over the weather as most people would assume,” Matt joked with a goofy smile.

  Charity laughed softly, wrapping her arms around herself to fight off the cold. “Well that’s too bad. It sure would be nice to get away from this weather,” Charity lamented.

  Matt felt a thud in his chest. A sudden sense of urgency mixed with excitement. “Perhaps I can take you to the nearest hotel? I’m assuming you had plans to be in one anyways.”

  “Actually, I very stupidly thought I was booked for a three week stay in London. Turns out my friend gave me an expired brochure,” Charity admitted embarrassed.

  “Oh, that’s too bad. Did the plane drop you off right here then?” Matt teased, trying to hide his laugher.

  “Very funny! But no, the cab dropped me at a stop up there after I told him I didn’t have an euro on me. I guess my American money has no value here,” Charity grumbled.

  “Ah, I see,” Matt winced. “Well tell you what, I know that in this area there are quite a few inns I could take you too.”

  Charity looked around nervously for a moment, wincing. She didn’t know who this man was, and it was dangerous to get in the car with strangers. With the heavy rainfall and snow though, it was looking like she didn’t have much of a choice. “Well, anything is better than being out in the cold,” Charity gritted.

  Matt grabbed Charity’s suitcase and held out his hand for her to hold. “Grab on, this snow can be deathly.”

  With a deep breath, Charity grabbed ahold of Matt’s hand, unsure of what she was getting herself into.

  Chapter Four

  Charity could barely breathe as she sat stiffly in Matt’s truck. On top of her flight being horrible, getting lost, and being drenched from snow and rain, she couldn’t find it in herself to not feel slightly lucky.

  She peeked out of the corner of her eye at Matt. God, he was hot.

  He had a head full of blonde curls that fell right above his shoulders, and a strong, sculpted jaw. His hands were large and strong with visible callouses, yet there was something about the way he gripped the steering wheel that told Charity he had a gentleness about him.

  “So where in America are you from?” Matt suddenly asked, snapping Charity out of her trance. She swallowed hard, squeezing her hands together to fight off nerves.

  “New York. I work as a detective,” She explained quickly. “I’m originally from a tiny town in Idaho though.”

  “Idaho? I can’t say I’ve heard of it. I know New York and California though,” Matt replied with a raise of his brows.

  Charity nodded awkwardly, her gaze falling on Matt’s crotch. Matt seems to notice her gaze and flashed a grin, sending floods of humiliation to Charity.

  “Sorry, I wasn’t looking-”

  “It’s alright lass,” Matt laughed. “No need to explain. I have been told these jeans bring all the ladies to me though.”

  “It must be the paint stains,” Charity mocked. “A woman can’t deny an artistic man.”

  “How about a humble mechanic?” Matt teased. Charity cocked her head to the side. A mechanic? Despite mechanics not being the richest, there was something endearing about it.

  Charity had her fair share of chasing after wealthy men who thought they owned the earth. Hayden was one of those men. With him being the top detective in the force, he was also the highest paid. He was always quick to remind Charity that as well. “I like humble,” Charity mused with a small grin. “A man who values money too much is greedy. He thinks the earth belongs to him.”

  Matt nodded in agreement, his heart skipping a beat. Was this woman being serious? How could she be beautiful and down to earth?

  Clearing his throat, Matt reached out to turn the heat up. “Here, some heat’ll do ya good,” He said shyly. “Tell me now, how does a sweet little lady like yourself become a detective? I’ve seen my fair share of cop movies, and it seems rather dangerous.”

  Charity beamed with pride as she cast a sly look at Matt. “Why? Do I look incompetent?” She teased with a raise of her left brow.

  “Oh god no! I didn't mean it like that,” Matt’s voice trailed off.

  “I’m just teasing,” Charity snorted. “But I didn’t always want to be detective. It kind of just dawned on me that I could do more for the city. I fell in love with it.”

  A warmness fell over Matt. He loved it when people talked about their passions. It made him feel like he was apart of something for acne.

  “So then, I take it you’re a tough girl, yeah?” He chimed with a wink.

  “I guess you can say that,” Charity gleamed with a wide smile.

  “Gosh, why am I smiling so hard like an idiot?” Charity thought to herself.

  “Then how does a tough girl detective get stuck in the middle of nowhere?” Matt shot back with a hearty laugh.

  “Hey, that’s not fair! If you were in the middle of New York, I bet you’d be lost too!” Charity whined with her arms folded across her chest.

  “Yeah, you’re right about that. Which is why I wouldn’t step foot in that place. I can’t stand the city.”

  Charity turned her body slightly to get a better look at Matt. Despite the heavy, freezing snow, he had a glow about him, almost as if there was a halo resting on top of his head. He had a rough look to him with his scruffage and army boots, but something told Charity t
here was more to the story. “What’s so scary about the city?” Charity asked, her voice softer.

  Matt inhaled sharply, fighting off the memories that plagued to come up. There was no way in hell he’d reveal his past to a beautiful woman that quick. “The people. They’re not my cup of tea.”

  Charity fell quiet for a moment, thinking back to the cold demeanor of Hayden. He was most definitely a city guy. He was born and raised in New York City. “I can’t say I disagree with that statement. Coming from a small town, I naively expected people to greet me with the graciousness I grew up with. I was so wrong about that though,” Charity quietly shared.

  Matt’s heart fell into his stomach. The change of tone in Charity’s voice ignited a familiar emotion of sadness. Why was he feeling that way though? Especially since Charity was a stranger.

  “You’ve had bad experiences up there in the big apple?” Matt probed cautiously. He quickly looked over at Charity, noticing how she had turned her body towards the window. She lingered in silence, twiddling her thumbs before she sighed heavily.

  “To be perfectly honest,” She finally answered. “I’ve lived a pretty unsatisfactory life for the past few years. New York was supposed to be my haven, but it only led me to heartache.”

  “Oh my god! Why am I telling him this? He’s probably going to think I’m an emotional wreck!” Charity thought angrily to herself.

  Matt’s heart felt heavy. He knew that sigh and that look of hopelessness that was plastered over Charity’s face. She had been heartbroken. Most likely by one of those city fellows who didn’t know how to treat a good woman. It took everything in him not to stop the truck, reach over and take Charity in his arms. He fought hard to get rid of the stupidity of being a sensitive romantic. Somehow though, it felt as if he was going backwards. Charity’s sadness was reeling him back into his old ways.