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Chapter 1
She was standing in the foyer of the most elegant restaurant in town, Steve's arm resting lightly at her back, her future in-laws by her side, her new life firmly in place, when she saw him.
Customers were heading in and out of the front doors, clustering at the hostess stand, heading off to their tables, everyone going every which way at once, while she stood frozen in place.
There he was, Zach McRae in the flesh.
For a moment it was as if Julie Morrison's life were a movie playing out on the big screen and someone had just hit the pause button.
No . . . as if they'd sent the tape in reverse, and in an instant she was seven years old again, scared, lost, and trying to hide in a quiet corner of his parents' house, wishing she never had to go home.
Zach turned, saw Julie, and walked right up to her, shoulders wide and squared, a too-familiar smile on his face-as if he's last seen her yesterday, not more than eight years ago-and said, "Hello, Julie."
"Zach," she managed to say. "What are you doing here?"
What she really wanted to say was, Please don't say another word. Please don't ruin anything.
"Business." He was still smiling. "And you? Is this where you disappeared to? Memphis?"
She laughed. What else was there to do? A part of her was surprised, maybe even hurt, that he'd recognized her so easily. She thought she'd come so far from that girl she used to be. Especially standing in the lobby of one of the finest restaurants in Memphis, a discreet-and yet she hoped stylish-designer dress wrapped around her body. Steve's ring-a tasteful family heirloom passed down through the generations-on the third finger of her left hand.
And yet, at the same time, she realized there was a part of her that was immeasurably pleased that Zach had known her right away, even after all this time.
"You disappeared?" Steve asked as his arm tightened around her, bringing her back to the present.
She realized they were all looking at her, Zach and Steve, as well as Steve's parents. Both in their sixties, tastefully gray and discreetly looking of old Southern money, they'd never been happy at the prospect of welcoming her into their family.
Calm down, Julie told herself. All she had to do was stay calm. And get rid of him. Stay right here in this carefully constructed world. It was hers now. No one could take it away. No one could make her go back to what she used to be. Steve's mother cleared her throat and gave Julie a pointed look.
"I'm so sorry," Julie said. "I was just surprised. . . . Steve, this is Zach McRae, an old friend of mine. Zach this is my fiancé, Steve Land, and his parents Barbara and Joe Land."
As they all shook hands, Julie couldn't help but notice that Zach, all grown up, was just as straight and tall and solid as she'd ever imagined he'd be. He had dark hair, thick and clipped short and neat, even darker eyes, a strong, determined jaw, a beautiful smile.
And a decidedly kind heart. She remembered that well.
"Old friends, you say?" Steve asked him.
"Yes," Zach said, not taking his eyes off her. "And neighbors."
"Oh?" Steve's mother sounded interested all of a sudden. "You're from St. Louis, too?"
"St. Louis?" Zach asked, blank faced.
And just like that, Julie felt the treacherous ground she was standing on shift this way and that.
Julie jumped in, begging him with her eyes to just let it be. "He used to be. It's been ages since we've seen each other." She smiled up at Steve in the end. He wasn't going anywhere. He wanted to marry her, after all. Then she turned to Zach and uttered a bold-faced lie. "And your family moved to . . . Where was it, Zach? Ohio?"
He took a breath, his jaw tightening. She could just imagine what was running through his head: Just like old times, huh Julie?
Years ago, he wouldn't have hesitated to call her on a lie. She held her breath, waiting. . . .
"Yes." He finally nodded, not taking his eyes off her. "I'm surprised you remember."
All the lies, he meant.
She hung her head, realizing he had the power to shame her, even now.
"And you two know each other because . . . ?" Steve asked.
"Julie and my little sister Grace were inseparable for years when they were younger," Zach explained. "I'm sure she'd love to hear from you. In fact . . ."
He slipped a hand into the inside front pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small case. Taking a business card out of it, he scribbled something on the back, then gave it to her.
"Do that, Julie. Give her a call."
His look said, Or else.
What? He'd track her down? Not that it would be difficult. She'd never bothered to change her name. At the time she'd been tempted, she hadn't had the money, and once she had it, she realized she hadn't left anyone behind who'd care enough to come looking for her.
She took the card, promising to call.
The hostess, sleek and elegant in a slim, black floor-length skirt and a crisp white blouse, joined them, nodding respectfully to Steve's father. "Your table's ready, Mr. Land."
Steve's mother asked for a moment, then turned to Zach. "You've just arrived in town, Mr. McRae?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said.
"Alone?"
"Yes. I was supposed to have dinner with a colleague, but he got tied up at the last minute. He'd talked so much about how wonderful this restaurant is, I decided to come anyway and try it on my own."
"Well, we can't have you eating dinner all alone. Why don't you join us? We've met so few of Julie's friends, and with her not having any family left . . ." Zach gave Julie another one of those looks. "I'd love to join you. If that's all right with everyone."
Barbara Land looked gleeful, as if she'd read between every line and knew Julie was hiding something and that Zach might well be the key. Steve gave Julie an odd look, his arm tightening once again at her waist. She could feel all those not-so-subtle male signals rolling off him. Hands off. She's mine. As if Zach had ever seen her as anything but a lost little girl or a troubled teenager.
There was a short, awkward silence before Steve conceded. "Please, join us."
Moving through the crowded restaurant, Zach caught her by the arm, drawing her back from the rest of the group, and whispering to her, "Got rid of the family again, huh, Julie?"
She'd spent most of her high school years claiming to be an orphan or the sole child of a father who was off building a bridge in South America and hadn't been home in years.
"Wouldn't you, if they were yours?" she asked.
"No, I wouldn't."
"Of course not," she admitted as they wove their way through the myriad tables and chairs. "You've probably never lied about anything in your life. Or done anything wrong."
"I never claimed to be perfect, Julie," he said, still too close.
"No," she said, the years falling away and bitterness she'd hoped to never give in to again, rearing up. "You just have a perfect life."
He caught her arm and stopped her right there in the middle of the restaurant.
"You know that's not true."
Yes, she supposed she did. It was something she'd forgotten so many times over the years, because he certainly seemed like a man who'd had everything. But that wasn't the case.
She hadn't believed the story the first time she'd heard it whispered about the neighborhood. About Zach and his two sisters found abandoned in a motel on the edge of town at Christmastime one year. His mother found weeks later in a ditch outside of town, where she'd been left for dead. Not long after that, she was dead, Zach's father in prison for killing her.
It hadn't seemed possible. His adoptive family seemed as close to perfect as any she'd ever known. But she'd asked Grace, who'd confirmed the whole story. Zach had talked about it once, telling Julie he knew what it was like to be alone and scared. He told her because he knew she felt the same way, and he knew how bad it was, something she'd never wanted anyone to know.
And here he was, seeing through her all over again.
—from Bed of Lies by Teresa Hill, Copyright © 2003 by Teresa Hill, Published by Onyx Books, a member of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., all rights reserved, reprinted with permission from the publisher.
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