Beauty And The Liar: A Liar, Liar Novella

f i v e

You walked into work, dread heavy on your soul because seeing your boss even though you had no regrets about standing your ground was still nerve wracking. This was the same man who fired a guy because he brought him the wrong paint shade. You knew you were held to a different set of standards since you were his assistant but still, that didn't make it any easier.

You weren't big on confrontation but he just knew how to push all of your buttons — even buttons you had no idea existed. Should you quit? You've worked for him long enough and saved up enough to be free for at least a year. Could spend some time travelling and just unwinding from the constantly wind up person he's turned you into.

As you approached your desk, wishful thoughts still fresh on your mind, you noticed a basket full of apples complete with a red ribbon tied around the handle and a white card tucked in between the apples.

I'm sorry.

Even though it wasn't signed, you knew exactly who they were from. You plucked a red delicious from the bunch and took a bite, marvelling in how tasty it was and sat down. The apples were a funny touch since you loved them so this made his apology seem all the more sincere but what will happen the next time he pulls something like this? Another basket of apples?

The intercom on your desk buzzed. He wanted to see you.

You marched to his office and walked inside and sat down in the chairs across his desk as he finished up a virtual meeting.

"Y/N," he greeted you as he closed his laptop. His eyes shifted to the apple in your hands, lips forming a smile so faint that you thought you imagined it. When your eyes met his, he quickly looked away Was your boss...nervous? You stifled a giggle as you took another bite.

"I'm sorry for pushing you to skip something that was very important to you." He shuffled some papers. "I sometimes tend to overlook familial obligations since I spend most of my time avoiding mine."

You already knew this, he had not been on the best of terms with his family considering that he hardly contacted them and the rare occasions that they would call, he told you to screen their calls. The fact made you sad but not everybody had a loving family like yours.

The note he left with the apples was nice but hearing him apologize to you in person caused your belly to do flips.

"It's fine."

He looked like he wanted to say more but then he nodded. "I called you in here because I am in need of your help. I'm trying to buy a new property and I could use a second set of eyes."

"You don't like where you live right now?" He lived in a high rise condo in a building that had a historically long wait list and anytime you were there, you pictured yourself lounging on the brown leather sofa, a drink in hand, checking all the zeroes on your bank account.

"I want something quieter. More homey."

And as it did during random moments where you saw your boss as a man not as an asshole, your heart started racing at the idea of this man in a house with a picket fence and a dog, stress off his shoulders as he laughed and barbecued in the back while you sat and told him random stories.

"I'll get right on it." You quickly left his office, perturbed by that vision you had and got to work searching on some listings that were suitable for him.

A few hours later, you sent him the list you compiled together and he replied almost instantly:

Let's go check them out

After piling into the car, the driver took you to the the first house you found...house was more of an understatement, it was more of a modern mansion complete with 6 bedrooms and 4 bathrooms not too far from the business district.

The realtor was standing on the front steps, waiting for you with a smile. "Hi, I'm—"

"It is so nice to meet you, sir!" She bypassed your outstretched hand and greeted your boss. Okay.  A familiar look of interest filled her eyes as like most women who set their eyes on your boss but he never returned their interest.

You felt a hand tug at your elbow. "This is y/n." You looked at him over your shoulder.

The realtor gave you an uncomfortable glance and laughed. "Nice to meet you as well. Is she your—"

The unasked question lingered in the air, feeding the what ifs that everyone always chased. What if he was yours? "His assistant."

"Oh great. Let's get the tour started, shall we?" She waited for him to walk up the steps and strategically walked next to him, leaving you feel like the unwanted third wheel. You swallowed the uncomfortable feeling in your throat and followed.

Walking inside the foyer, the place felt more like a museum than a home. High ceilings with equally high windows and modern light fixtures. The realtor pointed out the features of the house and surprisingly she did her job well. "This really looks like the place for you."

You looked at h/n who was already looking at you, an uncertain look in his eyes. "What do you think?"

You glanced at the realtor who had an annoyed look on her face as if she couldn't believe he was asking you for your opinion. 

"It feels...cold. It's perfect for you," you replied.

"Then I don't want it."

Gosh, this man was insufferable. This house would've been perfect for him, it was exactly his taste and you picked it for that very reason. "Let's go to the next one then."

The second house you went to was a brownstone in a quiet neighbourhood and it was your dream house.

An arch way led into the kitchen where sunlight shined bright through the window over the sink, showing a good view of the maple tree that was in the front.

And oh my gosh, it had a fireplace. The kind you see in movies is where people hung their stockings over during the holidays.

"What about this one?" He asked softly, as he knew he had to tread lightly.

"It's warm," you replied, still amazed by the fireplace. This was the type of house that made memories and told stories, the type of house they showed in movies where the family sat together and talked about their day.

"How warm?" He asked.

"So warm I could feel it in my soul but it's not your type of house."

He stepped closer, hands in pocket. "What exactly is my type of house?"

"The one you rejected earlier with all the windows."

"The one you said was cold? Is that how you see me? Cold?"

"Maybe."

"Y/n," he said even more softly. "I'm feeling pretty warm right now."

Neither of you said anything after that, just silently observed the fireplace.