The Truth About Air & Water (Truth in Lies #2) by Katherine Owen Page A
Authors: Katherine Owen
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look over at Kimberley, silently soliciting her support. Her green eyes flash with anger and notable sympathy, but then she shrugs as if it’s out of her hands and gives me with the familiar everything-is-going-to-be-fine smile. I know that smile. I use it all the time for every bad or uncomfortable situation I find myself in. Then, it dawns on me. How gullible am I? How naive? She works for Davis; she works for Linc as his publicist too. Money will sway and talk and carry the day even in this room. Future wife status be damned. I don’t pay her, Linc does.
“Davis, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Kimberley’s soothing tone in an obvious attempt to take over before things spin out of control completely. Her gold wedding band catches the light. It is the only sparkle in this cold room.
Minutes ago, Kimberley had walked in here just beaming as the giddy, newly-married bride of only a month or so, but then her smile slid from her lovely face at Davis Presley’s opening salvo. “He doesn’t remember you at all, Tally.”
Actually, the smiles slid from all of our faces at his cruel choice of words.
But it wasn’t a lie. It was the truth.
And sometimes, the truth hurts.
Linc doesn’t remember me at all.
True.
Kimberley’s sadness mirrors mine in every way. This is a nightmare of epic proportions, and I just want to wake up from it.
I met up with her in the restroom just before we were summoned by Davis to this very conference room. I don’t know why I was so surprised to see her here in the first place. Of course, public relations would be involved. Linc’s image centering around baseball was always at stake, at least from Davis’ perspective and probably Kimberley’s too. I thought we were past all of that. I should have known we would never be past all of that. Never.
Our small talk consisted of:
“How was Cara?”
“Fine.”
“Congrats Again. You two eloping. That would have been nice.”
“Thanks. There’s been so much turmoil I haven’t really even had a chance to think about that anymore.”
“I know. So when was the big wedding planned?”
Was she said. An interesting choice of word. “We booked the Hollins House for November as plan B or C. After the World Series.”
“How’s Linc?” She asked in a guarded tone.
“Linc is a longer and very complicated answer,” I said with a little sigh. “He doesn’t know me. He doesn’t remember the last six years of his life. None of it.”
The light in her eyes dimmed at that moment. A crevice formed in the middle of her forehead. This brilliant woman was thinking. I didn’t register it at the time because I was just happy to see her, to have an ally. She’d taken a step back from me and looked even more uncertain. Then, she seemed to recover, nodding slowly, and finally smiled. “Everything will be fine. I just know it.”
Only Marla had been serving as cheerleader for me. The truth was I needed to hear it from someone else. I needed Linc to say it, but Kimberley Powers would have to do.
That was two hours ago, and now we are here.
I helplessly watch as Kimberley gets up from her chair and takes over the room, and motions over to Davis to sit down. Marla grabs for my hand from under the large conference table. Charlie squeezes my left one from the other side. I take these gestures as a good sign. I bow my head down for a few seconds and then glance up and over at Kimberley and just wait.
Somehow, I know this is going to be bad.
Will it be worse than the past two weeks?
That seems impossible.
But, is it?
“There’s millions of dollars at risk. His contract. I’ve read through it. So has his agent. And, please remember Nika Vostrikova works for the Giants. She is not our friend, not Linc’s anymore, not one of us. Capiche? And we really need to circle the wagons and ensure she doesn’t get past security. The Giants don’t need to know about his memory loss yet. And they’re focused on baseball and the playoffs
“Davis, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Kimberley’s soothing tone in an obvious attempt to take over before things spin out of control completely. Her gold wedding band catches the light. It is the only sparkle in this cold room.
Minutes ago, Kimberley had walked in here just beaming as the giddy, newly-married bride of only a month or so, but then her smile slid from her lovely face at Davis Presley’s opening salvo. “He doesn’t remember you at all, Tally.”
Actually, the smiles slid from all of our faces at his cruel choice of words.
But it wasn’t a lie. It was the truth.
And sometimes, the truth hurts.
Linc doesn’t remember me at all.
True.
Kimberley’s sadness mirrors mine in every way. This is a nightmare of epic proportions, and I just want to wake up from it.
I met up with her in the restroom just before we were summoned by Davis to this very conference room. I don’t know why I was so surprised to see her here in the first place. Of course, public relations would be involved. Linc’s image centering around baseball was always at stake, at least from Davis’ perspective and probably Kimberley’s too. I thought we were past all of that. I should have known we would never be past all of that. Never.
Our small talk consisted of:
“How was Cara?”
“Fine.”
“Congrats Again. You two eloping. That would have been nice.”
“Thanks. There’s been so much turmoil I haven’t really even had a chance to think about that anymore.”
“I know. So when was the big wedding planned?”
Was she said. An interesting choice of word. “We booked the Hollins House for November as plan B or C. After the World Series.”
“How’s Linc?” She asked in a guarded tone.
“Linc is a longer and very complicated answer,” I said with a little sigh. “He doesn’t know me. He doesn’t remember the last six years of his life. None of it.”
The light in her eyes dimmed at that moment. A crevice formed in the middle of her forehead. This brilliant woman was thinking. I didn’t register it at the time because I was just happy to see her, to have an ally. She’d taken a step back from me and looked even more uncertain. Then, she seemed to recover, nodding slowly, and finally smiled. “Everything will be fine. I just know it.”
Only Marla had been serving as cheerleader for me. The truth was I needed to hear it from someone else. I needed Linc to say it, but Kimberley Powers would have to do.
That was two hours ago, and now we are here.
I helplessly watch as Kimberley gets up from her chair and takes over the room, and motions over to Davis to sit down. Marla grabs for my hand from under the large conference table. Charlie squeezes my left one from the other side. I take these gestures as a good sign. I bow my head down for a few seconds and then glance up and over at Kimberley and just wait.
Somehow, I know this is going to be bad.
Will it be worse than the past two weeks?
That seems impossible.
But, is it?
“There’s millions of dollars at risk. His contract. I’ve read through it. So has his agent. And, please remember Nika Vostrikova works for the Giants. She is not our friend, not Linc’s anymore, not one of us. Capiche? And we really need to circle the wagons and ensure she doesn’t get past security. The Giants don’t need to know about his memory loss yet. And they’re focused on baseball and the playoffs
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