Home > A Million Dirty Secrets (Million Dollar Duet #1)(52)

A Million Dirty Secrets (Million Dollar Duet #1)(52)
Author: C.L. Parker

I picked up a piece of bacon and took a bite while I waited for her to begin.

“So I was balancing your checkbook this weekend, paying the utility bills and whatnot, when I ran across an entry for a rather large sum of money that had been transferred from your personal account to an account in Hillsboro, Illinois,” she started in a questioning tone.

“And?” I took a bite of the eggs. They needed salt.

“And … two million dollars? Noah, I know it’s not my place to ask, but what the hell?”

“You’re right, it’s not your place to ask,” I said, suddenly losing my appetite. I’d known she’d see the transaction, but she’d never questioned me about my outlandish splurging before. Then again, the last time I’d dropped a load even remotely similar to that, it had been for my Hennessey Venom GT Spyder.

Polly narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Are you doing something illegal?”

“Polly, I’m warning you. Back off,” I said in my most menacing tone. “The last time I checked, I was the employer and you were the employee. So don’t come in here like you’re going to interrogate me over something that is none of your business.”

“You don’t scare me, Noah Patrick Crawford,” she said as she stood and waved a finger at me. “Something’s up, and I don’t know what it is, but you know I’ll just keep digging until I figure it out. And don’t think I didn’t notice that the transaction just so happened to take place at the same time Lanie showed up.”

She was pissing me off. I could feel the vein in my forehead bulge.

“Delaine,” I corrected her.

“No, she asked me to call her Lanie. I guess she prefers that to her given name, but you should know that since you two are so in love,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “What’s the deal between you and her? ’Cause I’m not buying the whole ‘we met outside a drag queen show in LA and fell in love’ bullshit. You’re a lot of things, but into dudes you are not.”

My eyebrows shot up into my hairline and I nearly choked on my own saliva. “She told you we met at a drag queen show?”

It sounded like something Delaine would say. I wasn’t really all that surprised. In fact, it was kind of funny. That was when I got an idea that would help me fuck with both of them—Polly for snooping when she should have been minding her own damn business, and Delaine for making the drag queen comment in the first place.

“Did she tell you she has a penis?”

“Shutthefuckup!” Polly’s mouth dropped open in shock, and then she quickly snapped it shut as she got a thoughtful look on her face. “Wait a minute.” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously and put a hand on her hip. “I’ve seen her naked. She definitely does not have a penis.”

“Not anymore,” I added. “What do you think the money in the account was for?”

I could practically see the hamster running on the wheel inside her head as she processed what I was saying. “Oh. My. God! Lanie’s had a sex change?”

I shrugged. “I don’t see what the big deal is. Her name was Paul. She looks pretty convincing now, though, doesn’t she?”

“But you’re not into dudes.”

“She’s not a dude … now.” I laced my fingers together and cupped the back of my head as I reclined in my chair. “Any more questions?”

Polly stared off into the distance, dumbfounded, until finally she shook her head. She started for the door, but I stopped her before she could leave.

“Oh, and Polly?” She turned to look at me. “This has to be our little secret. You can’t say anything to anyone, especially not to Delaine. She’s pretty sensitive about the subject and just wants to be accepted as the woman she’s always felt she was on the inside.”

“Oh yeah, right, no problem.” She nodded vehemently while giving me a look that said “pfft, as if,” then grabbed the doorknob to leave.

I was pretty damn proud of myself for being able to think so quickly on my feet. When Delaine found out what I’d done, she was going to be mega-pissed. For me, that translated into another epic sexcapade. Ding, ding, ding, ding. Triple whammy.

I stopped her again. “One more thing. I’m fucking kidding.”

“About what?”

“The whole thing, Polly. I made it all up. Delaine has never been a man named Paul, and she most certainly does not now, nor has she ever, had a penis.” I laughed. “But God, you should’ve seen the look on your face.”

“Ugh! Noah Patrick Crawford!” She seethed between clenched teeth as she marched toward me. “I should knock the piss out of you!”

She swung her purse and smacked me in the back of the head.

“Ow!” I laughed, and ducked to avoid further blows.

“I’m going to tell her about this!” she said, taking another shot at me.

I was hoping for that.

She backed away and the coast appeared to be clear. “Look, it doesn’t surprise me that she said she met me at a drag queen show. She has a very odd sense of humor, Polly. You never know if what she’s saying is true or if she’s bullshitting you,” I explained. “It’s one of the many things I love about her. But the truth is, we met at a conference.”

The real truth was that most of what I said actually was true.

“Apparently she’s not the only one who bullshits around here,” she said with her hands on her hips. Then she sighed and said, “Okay, confession time. When I saw that big transfer, I started thinking, and nothing was adding up right. So I did some research, and lo and behold, I couldn’t find any trips that you’ve booked to LA over this supposed time you’ve been seeing her. And even though I had no last name to go by, I also didn’t find anyone named Delaine or Lanie on any of the flights from LA the day she showed up.” She took a breath. “What I did find was a receipt from a very posh club that just so happens to be owned by one Scott Christopher. A further background search on him revealed charges for trafficking. Human trafficking. Women, to be specific. So,” she concluded with a sigh, “you wanna tell me who Lanie really is?”

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