Tell Me No Lies: The Black Orchid, Book 1 by Magnolia Smith

was out of service. When I’d searched online for another way to reach out to him, I couldn’t find a trace of him anywhere .
    It was like he didn’t exist. Or rather, I’d made him up. Only Charlotte was always there to remind me that, yes, he did exist. And yes, he was a jerk, a jerk that I should immediately get over. She was, in fact, adamant that I get over him and not the least bit sympathetic for my lovesick state.
    The postcard had appeared a few weeks ago, like a message in a bottle. Effectively confusing the hell out of me.
    “I’ll be right out, Mary.”
    I stood in front of the elevator, suddenly nervous. I shook my head.
    It couldn’t be him.
    I stepped onto the elevator and rode down to the lobby.
    Hewas the reason I didn’t go to New York. He was the reason I’d decided not to get a loan, buy the place on Martin Street when I’d already placed a down payment on it. My parents did not want me to open a beignet cafe. They thought it was an exercise in futility. I’d thought they were wrong, but after Jamaica, after Kael, I doubted all of my decisions.
    How could I have been so wrong about a person? Obviously my judgment sucked. If I couldn’t tell when a man was playing me, looking me straight in my face and lying, how could I know what was right for me, for my career?
    My parents would never steer me wrong. So when I climbed out of my deep depression, I played the role of the good girl, the dutiful daughter and did what my parents wanted. Chucked my hopes and dreams and settled down for a nice, boring but stable office job. My life became routine. And all of my carefully laid plans? They were tied to a rock and tossed into an ocean of obscurity.
    The doors opened and I saw a man with his back to me. He turned to face me as I approached.
    My heart stopped. It was him, holding a bouquet of cream-colored roses. Just like that, my throat was suddenly dry and I had forgotten how to breathe. Despite how much I hated him, I smiled, hoping I looked like perfection in his eyes.
    “Kael?”
    His ever-changing eyes were a smoky gray today. I couldn’t read the expression in them. They were guarded, but his lips were curled into a sincere smile.
    He presented the flowers to me. “It’s been forever.”
    I took the flowers, smelling their fragrance. “They’re beautiful.”
    Time seemed to freeze and I realized Mary was enjoying our conversation. She grinned at me while I signed Kael into our guest book. Mary handed me a guest badge that I in turn clipped to the button-down shirt Kael wore. I could feel the thick, hard muscles of his chest through the silk material.
    I hesitated for a moment. I was afraid to touch him. But he was so beautiful, the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. He looked so earnest, it was almost as if my heart had nothing to fear.
    “Let’s go to my office. We can talk in private there.”
    I led the way, painfully aware of his presence behind me. Notes of his fragrance danced around us: lemon, sea salt, ozone? Sudden images of us in Jamaica together crowded my mind. We stepped on the elevator and I could remember dancing with him under the stars.
    My eyes met his in the reflection of the elevator door. A jolt of electricity coursed through my body. Did he feel it?
    He was too close, I decided. I stepped away, praying for someone to join us in our ride. Naturally, no one did. We arrived at my floor and stepped off of the elevator, still silent.
    The walk seemed endless and then we were at my office. Once my door was closed, I got comfortable in my leather chair, allowed myself to gaze at him for the first time in two years.
    He looked exactly the same except for his eyes. They seemed harder, colder…until he smiled. And then they lit up. But they still seemed older, weary.
    “Did you get a postcard from me?”
    I couldn’t answer him. I could not open my mouth to form words or make sounds. It was like seeing an apparition. Even with the postcard apparently forewarning this moment,