Read Online Once Upon a Lie by Maggie Barbieri - Free Book Online

name is Maeve?” he asked.
    “Gaelic.”
    “What does it mean?”
    She had been hoping he wouldn’t ask, but now that he had, she had to tell him. “‘Intoxicating,’” she said, blushing. “The original Maeve was a warrior queen in first-century Ireland. She wielded a pretty hefty sword, according to Irish lore.”
    “And you?”
    “Just a spatula,” she said.
    “So what brings you here, Maeve?” he asked, folding his arms on the table.
    “Speed dating,” she said as convincingly as she could muster. Something about him made her want to tell him the true story, but she held back. The people here were taking this whole exercise much more seriously than she was, and she couldn’t recommend that every man she met date Jo.
    “You don’t sound very convincing,” he said.
    She shrugged. “Giving it my best shot.”
    “Me too,” he said. “What do you do?”
    “I own a gourmet shop in Farringville. The Comfort Zone?” she asked, but she could tell by his face that he either had never been to Farringville, despite its relative proximity to the speed-dating location, or he didn’t eat gourmet or comfort food. “What do you do?” she asked.
    “This and that. Import/export.”
    She didn’t know why, but she liked his deliberate vagueness. Maybe it allowed her to create an identity for him that suited what she wanted to think. “Well, if your ‘this and that’ takes you to Farringville, make sure you come in and visit,” she said, sounding far more confident than she felt. “It’s only about a half hour from here in Westchester.”
    He studied her for a minute. “I just might do that,” he said. “So what are you doing here?” he asked in a rephrase of his earlier question.
    “Speed dating,” she repeated.
    He continued to look at her. “I don’t think you are.”
    “Well, you’d be wrong.” She decided that turning the tables was the only way to go. “What are you doing here?”
    “Looking to find a good woman to date.”
    “I don’t think you are.” She paused a minute, the truth hitting her so hard that she was surprised she hadn’t figured it out earlier. “You’re a cop.”
    His calm façade cracked slightly, but not enough so that Maeve could tell if she was right. A slight shrug was all she got in return. He tried to tell her she was wrong, but he couldn’t; the word no stuck in his throat.
    “You’ve got cop written all over you.”
    “Really?”
    “My father was a cop. I can spot you guys a mile away.”
    He regarded her coolly.
    She sensed she wasn’t going to get the truth, so she tried another tack. “Okay, Officer. We’ve got work to do here. What would a date entail?” she asked after a few seconds of silence.
    A smile played on his lips as he looked off into the expanse of the ballroom. Finally, he brought his attention back on her. “A bottle of Côtes du Rhône. A meal we cooked together. Dessert? Definitely.” He leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. “And I ain’t talking chocolate mousse here.”
    She wondered why the hair at the nape of her neck was damp, but she didn’t have time to really process it; the air horn sounded and Rodney moved on to the next table, his seat being taken by a bald guy wearing a loud paisley shirt more colorful than should have been legally allowed. She followed Rodney with her eyes, wondering what a cop would be doing at a speed-dating event and why, in spite of knowing that, she was intrigued. Maeve had tamped down any thoughts related to love and lust long ago and was surprised, sitting there, to find out that they still held a little place in her brain.
    The guy at the table wanted to know her “sign.” She made up a story about being on the cusp with Aries rising, which got him talking about her tendencies and why they were a perfect match.
    Sometimes, she was her own worst enemy.
    Her attention previously trained on Doug, Maeve now watched Rodney move fluidly through the room, wondering what he was really