Chapter 169: My Lies Have Lies

Chapter 169: My Lies Have Lies


“Why did you lie to me?” Elliot asked. There it was. The question I had been trying to avoid since the moment I answered his call. I stared at him through the screen, trying to look offended instead of terrified. “I didn't lie to you.” Elliot slowly raised an eyebrow. “Liela.” “Okay, maybe I didn't tell you everything.” “That is called lying.” “No, it's called selective information.” “You told me you were staying in New York.” “I never said that.” “You let me believe you were in New York.” I opened my mouth, then closed it. Technically, he had a point, which was extremely inconvenient. “Fine,” I sighed. “I should have told you I was going to Scotland.” Elliot leaned closer to his camera. “Why didn't you?” I immediately began searching my brain for an explanation that sounded reasonable. Unfortunately, my brain had apparently taken a holiday of its own. “Because…” I paused dramatically. “It happened very suddenly.” Elliot stared at me. “Your international flight happened suddenly?” “Yes.” “How?” “Very quickly.” He blinked. “Flights usually do that.” “Exactly.”

I sat up straighter, suddenly realizing that silence was probably safer than continuing, but unfortunately, I had already started digging the hole, and apparently my personality demanded that I furnish it. “Look, Elliot, it wasn't planned the way you think.” “What way do I think?” “Like I deliberately decided to go to Scotland with Grayson.” Elliot's eyes narrowed. “Didn't you?” “No.” I shook my head so hard that my hair moved. “It was completely coincidental.” “Coincidental.” “Yes.” “You and Grayson just happened to be on the same flight.” “Exactly!” I pointed at the screen as if I had just presented groundbreaking evidence in court. “We were both flying to Scotland, and then somehow we ended up on the same flight.” Elliot stared at me. “You booked the flight.” “Yes.” “He booked the flight.” “Presumably.” “And you both work together.” “Correct.” He paused. “And you want me to believe you accidentally ended up on the same international flight?” I smiled. “When you put it like that, it sounds suspicious.” “Because it is suspicious.” “Or,” I said, raising one finger, “Scotland is simply a very popular destination.” Elliot stared at me for several seconds. “That is your explanation?” “It's one of them.”

Elliot rubbed his forehead. “Liela, how did you not realize Grayson was on your flight?” I thought back to the airport, the business lounge, the three suitcases, the buffet, and my desperate attempt to eat everything available before boarding. “I was busy.” “Doing what?” “Traveling.” “That's not an answer.” “Eating.” Elliot's expression changed. “Eating?” “Yes.” “You didn't see him at the airport?” “I saw many people.” “Did you see Grayson?” “Possibly.” “Possibly?” “He has a very common face.” Elliot nearly choked. “A common face?” “Well, not common. Obviously not common.” I quickly corrected myself. “Very… recognizable. But I wasn't paying attention.” “So you didn't know he was on your flight until you got on the plane?” “Correct.” “And then?” “Then I discovered we were on the same flight.” “How?” I hesitated. “I saw him.” Elliot gave me a look that could have cracked glass. “You saw him?” “Yes.” “And you didn't think that was strange?” “Of course I thought it was strange.” “So why didn't you tell me?” I shrugged. “Because I thought you'd make it strange.” Elliot pointed at the screen. “I'm making it strange now because you're giving me a story that sounds like it was written by someone who ran out of plot ideas.”

I crossed my arms. “I'm telling you the truth.” “You're lying.” “I'm not.” “You are.” “I'm offended.” “Good.” “That's very supportive.” Elliot sighed. “You went to Scotland, stayed in an expensive hotel, and somehow Grayson just happened to be on your flight, just happened to be staying at the same hotel, and just happened to show up at your door with your passport.” I opened my mouth. “When you say it all together…” “It sounds ridiculous?” “A little.” “Extremely.” “Okay, extremely,” I admitted. “But that doesn't mean it's not true.” Elliot shook his head. “Liela, coincidence has limits.” “Not in my life.” I gestured around the room. “Have you seen what happens to me? I once walked into a meeting with two different shoes.” “You did that on purpose?” “No.” “Exactly.” “So you understand.” Elliot stared at me. “I understand that chaos follows you.” “Thank you.” “That wasn't a compliment.” “I'll take it anyway.” I picked up my passport and waved it slightly. “Besides, if I had planned all this, would I really have forgotten my passport in the lobby?” Elliot went silent. I smiled triumphantly. “See? Evidence.” He sighed. “That's actually the first convincing thing you've said.”

For a moment, I thought I had won. Then Elliot narrowed his eyes again, and I immediately knew I had celebrated too early. “One more thing,” he said. “What?” “Why were you trying so hard to get Grayson out of your room?” My smile disappeared. “Because…” I looked toward the door. “Because I was tired.” “You looked terrified.” “Jet lag.” “You were whispering.” “Tired people whisper.” “You were pushing him into the hallway.” “Friendly guidance.” “You told him to invent spreadsheets.” “Business encouragement.” Elliot stared at me, completely unimpressed. “And you kept saying everything was normal.” I nodded slowly. “Because everything is normal.” He leaned back. “Liela, whenever you say something is normal, it becomes immediately obvious that it isn't.” I sighed and sank deeper into the bed. Maybe I should stop talking. Unfortunately, that thought arrived approximately thirty seconds too late. Elliot folded his arms. “I'm not buying the coincidence story.” “You don't have to buy it,” I said, trying desperately to sound confident. “It's not a product.” “Then what is it?” I looked at my passport, then at the screen, and finally at the ceiling. “A very unfortunate series of completely innocent events.” Elliot gave me a long, suspicious look. “Sure.” I smiled weakly. “See? We're making progress.” “We're not.” “I know.” And somehow, I was already lying again.

Elliot wasn't finished. He narrowed his eyes at me through the screen, and I immediately felt another question coming. “Wait,” he said. “Where's Aunt Helena?” My heart stopped. Oh no. I had completely forgotten about Aunt Helena. I had been so busy explaining Grayson, my passport, my accidental international travel, and my extremely questionable definition of coincidence that I had forgotten the most important person in my original lie. “Aunt Helena?” I repeated, buying myself approximately two seconds. “Yes. Aunt Helena. You said she desperately needed your help in Scotland, remember?” I smiled nervously. “Of course I remember.” “Then where is she?” I stared at him. Excellent question. Terrible timing. “She's…” I looked around the room as if Aunt Helena might suddenly appear from behind the curtains and rescue me. Nothing. Not even the expensive television. “She's working.” Elliot frowned. “Working where?” “Here.” His eyebrow rose. “Here?” “Well, not exactly here.” I swallowed. “Somewhere nearby.” Why did I say nearby? I wanted to reach through the screen and slap myself.

Elliot leaned closer to the camera. “I thought you went to Scotland because Aunt Helena desperately needed you to help her.” “I did.” “Then why isn't she with you?” “Because she is very busy.” “Doing what?” My brain screamed at me to stop talking, but my mouth had apparently resigned from my brain's management. “She's working with the wedding director.” Elliot blinked. “Wedding director?” I nodded immediately. “Yes. Very important wedding director.” “What wedding?” I froze. The fake one. The wedding that does not exist. The wedding invitation that Arthur thinks exists. The wedding that Aunt Helena doesn't know I'm using as an excuse. “A… wedding.” Elliot stared at me. “Whose wedding?” “Someone's.” “Whose?” “A person's.” “Liela.” “Yes?” “You are making this worse.” “I know.” I sighed. “It's a complicated wedding.” “How complicated can a wedding be?” “Very.” I started nodding as though I had personally studied the case. “There are flowers. Seating arrangements. Food. Music. Dresses. Family drama.” Elliot stared at me. “That sounds like every wedding.” “Exactly. That's why it's complicated.” He rubbed his forehead. “And Aunt Helena is handling all of that?” “Yes.” “With a wedding director?” “Yes.” “In Scotland?” “Yes.” He paused. “Why?” I smiled weakly. “International wedding.” Elliot's expression told me he had officially stopped believing anything I said.

I could feel the conversation slipping away from me like a suitcase on an airport conveyor belt. “Anyway,” I said quickly, “Aunt Helena is fine. She's working, I'm resting, Grayson is doing his billionaire things, and everything is completely under control.” Elliot stared at me. “You just said Grayson was doing billionaire things.” “He is.” “What does that mean?” “I don't know.” “And Aunt Helena is working with a wedding director.” “Correct.” “And you came to Scotland to help her.” “Correct.” “But you're staying in a luxury hotel.” “Correct.” “And Grayson is staying here too.” “Apparently.” Elliot was quiet for a moment. “Liela, this story has more holes than Swiss cheese.” “Swiss cheese is delicious.” “That is not the point.” “I know.” I smiled nervously. “But I think you're focusing too much on the negative.” “There is a lot of negative.” “There is also Scotland.” “Liela.” “Beautiful country.” “Liela.” “Historic buildings.” “Liela.” “Very nice weather.” Elliot looked at me. “You haven't even told me whether Aunt Helena is actually there.” “She is.” “Where?” “Working.” “Where?” “With the wedding director.” “Where is the wedding director?” I stared at him. “Somewhere with Aunt Helena.” Elliot slowly closed his eyes. “I give up.”

That was my moment. Not because I had won, but because I needed to escape before he remembered how to ask follow-up questions. I suddenly looked at the corner of my screen and gasped. “Oh!” Elliot opened his eyes. “What?” “The network.” “What about it?” I shook my head dramatically. “It's getting unstable.” “It looks fine to me.” “No, no, it's definitely unstable.” I started tapping the side of my phone. “Very unstable.” “Liela, your video is perfectly clear.” “That's how it starts.” “How what starts?” “The network problems.” I nodded seriously. “First it's clear, then suddenly everything freezes, and then nobody can hear anything, and then the entire call disappears.” Elliot stared at me. “Are you making this up?” “What? No.” I pretended to look horrified. “I would never.” I was absolutely making it up. “I think you're—” His voice suddenly became my favorite sound in the world because I interrupted him. “Elliot, I can't hear you!” I pressed the phone closer to my ear. “Hello? Hello? Elliot?” “I can hear you perfectly.” “What? You're breaking up!” “I'm not—” “You're gone!” I shouted, then immediately ended the call.

I stared at the black screen in my hand. Silence filled the room. I slowly lowered the phone and whispered, “That went well.” My own voice sounded unconvinced. I looked at the passport still clutched in my other hand and then at the closed hotel door where Grayson had disappeared moments earlier. I had come to Scotland for a book event. I had lied to Elliot about why I was here. I had dragged Aunt Helena into a completely imaginary wedding. I had blamed a television for talking. I had forgotten my passport in the lobby. And now I had just faked a network failure to escape a video call. I dropped onto the bed. “I'm becoming a criminal,” I muttered. Then I looked at my phone again. Please don't call back. A second later, the screen lit up with Elliot's name. I stared at it in horror. “Of course.” I buried my face in a pillow. “Of course he called back.”