Confessions of a Twenty-Something City Girl

Two Truths and a Lie

"Thank you for the ride!" I exclaim as my black suede heels click against the pavement. I glance up at the stunning Beverly Hills Hotel, its soft pink and olive-green exterior sparkling in the California golden hour—the magical light just before sunset. Nervously fluffing my hair, I step onto the expansive red carpet leading into the iconic establishment, delighted by the elegant white and green stripes dancing across the ceiling.

Where am I?  I can't help but feel a surge of both overwhelm and curiosity about the man I'm about to meet.

Regaining my composure, I stride towards the classic landmark's entrance. A doorman greets me warmly, "Welcome to The Beverly Hills Hotel. The Polo Lounge is just to the right," he says, gesturing ahead.

Entering the hotel, I follow the signs towards The Polo Lounge. The lobby is buzzing with activity. I feel a heady mix of excitement and nerves as I navigate through the crowd. Stepping into the lounge, I take in the eclectic mix of patrons—men and women in sharp suits mingling with glamorous celebrities and high-powered personalities.

"Can I help you, Miss?" the impeccably dressed hostess inquires, snapping me back to reality.

"I'm here to meet a friend at the bar. Thank you," I reply, determined to find a seat despite feeling the weight of curious gazes upon me. My mind races with questions—Is Noah here? Is he at the bar or tucked away in a booth?

Drawing closer to the packed bar, I search for an empty spot. As I approach, an older man grabs two drinks and leaves, freeing up a seat. Bingo.

I swiftly slide into the chair, but before I settle in, the man to my right smoothly interrupts, "I'm sorry, that seat's taken—" Our eyes meet, and a jolt of electricity shoots through me. He's breathtaking—tall, lean yet muscular, with broad shoulders, captivating ocean eyes, chocolate brown hair, and golden bronzed skin. I'm immediately enthralled.

As our gaze holds, time seems to stand still until the older man returns, breaking the moment. "Excuse me, I think I left my card here. That damn memory of mine is going quicker than my wife spending money!"

We all share a laugh as the man retrieves his card from the crystal tumbler and disappears.

The gentleman beside me looks over with a hint of mystery. "Kingston, I presume."

I absorb his strong features; he possesses classic good looks with a jawline that could cut glass. His eyes are reminiscent of stormy seas, holding a piercing intensity that hints at the sharp intellect behind them. A tantalizing scent lingers around him, and he is wearing a perfectly pressed burgundy tie.

"And you must be Noah," I reply, unable to suppress a grin, motioning towards his tie.

Another moment passes between us, the spark is undeniable.

A brunette waitress interrupts, "Here you go, Mr. Westbrook. I'll put it on the tab." She sets down two drinks on the rocks.

"Thank you, Morgan," he acknowledges.

"Did I miss the memo? Should I be calling you Mr. Westbrook too?" I tease.

Noah laughs, "I've been trying to convince Morgan to call me Noah for years, but she insists on Mr. Westbrook. So here we are."

"Here we are," I smile. "And how do you know what I like to drink?"

"Well, we are playing Two Truths and a Lie, aren't we?" he asks earnestly.

"Have we started already?" I reply playfully.

"Before we begin, let's set the terms. Surely the stakes are very high here," he suggests confidently.