Secrets Come With lies

CHAPTER NINE

Manhattan, New York City

One month later...

An hour before it hit 6 pm, I had decided on painting my toenails and fingernails a deep red that went really well with my tanned skin.

And then I spent the next hour searching my closet for something to wear after Googling the Saylor Towers Hotel. It was one of Manhattan's prestigious hotels and it was high-class.

So after searching and searching, followed by more searching, I finally found something decent enough. It was a simple red, Givenchy slip dress that came
mid-thigh. The lace detail around the plunging neckline was delicately
constructed and when I looked in the mirror, I could barely recognise myself.

I looked like a sexy, sultry model attending the Paris Fashion Week runway with endless long, tanned legs and short, dirty blonde hair that reached just past my ears in a cute pixie cut. My bangs were worn long and I added some pink gloss to my lips as the last-minute option.

When I went downstairs, my aunt Jean was in the kitchen with her boyfriend, Eric. I rarely saw him anymore and I made a mental note to ask my aunt what was going on later. Just like she knew about most of my dating life, I knew about hers too. Our relationship was awesome like that.

Eric looked good; he looked a lot like that guy Harry Connick Jr. I thought Eric was pretty cool and I liked having him around, especially since he made my aunt giggle a lot like they were a newlywed couple. I thought it was pretty cute.

When I walked into the kitchen, my aunt gaped and was silent for a good few seconds before waving her hand at me.

"Where did Leah go to?" she asked.

Eric whistled and motioned for me to do a small turn, which I blushed like a red hot pepper while doing.

"You looking good kiddo," he said.

"Aw, thank you," I said doing a little curtsey.

"Where are you going?" my aunt inquired.

I smiled again, not willing to give too much away. "Well, I've just been invited to see a gig at Saylor Towers Hotel."

"Saylor Towers? That's an impressive place. Take full advantage of the cocktails," Eric said.

"Wait, who invited you?" aunt Jean interjected.

"Someone," I whispered, as I pulled on my cuffed heels.

"Someone who?" she asked, narrowing her cat-like eyes.

"Is it Dylan?" The woman was hell-bent on getting her information.

My heart did a little backflip at the mention of his name, but I was already pulling the door open.

"No one in particular that you know about," I said.

"Do you know how many crazy, psychopathic people are out there? You could be with a serial killer and you wouldn't even know," she said.

"He's not a serial killer. He's Dylan's older brother," I assured her, before slipping out and managing to get out of the apartment before anymore interrogation began.

The weather had drastically changed for the evening as I stepped out of the foyer of our apartment building. The skies above were painted with pastel pinks and peaches with silver specks of stars, whilst the soft breezy currents were delicate and balmy against my skin.

I stood near the sidewalk and hailed down a cab. Once inside, I rolled down my window and allowed the breeze to hit my face as the cab weaved through traffic. The city lights came into view and it wasn't long before we headed into the heart of Manhattan.