Dirty Little Liars by Missy Lynn Ryan Page A

when I say that no one is going into this agreement blind.”
    “Agreement? You’re getting married not selling off a company.”
    “Courtney wants this, which means her father wants this. My goal is to make him happy. At least until the election.”
    Juliette picked at the tray of cookies in front of her. She busied herself with transferring the warm cookies onto the wire cooling rack. Anything to keep from looking at Tyler.
    “You can’t say anything,” he continued. “Courtney is as complicated as it gets. Not everyone can handle her the way I can.”
    “Handle?”
    “Think of her as a live grenade. There are ways to safely contain the explosion but it has to be done under the right conditions.”
    “Fine. I won't say anything. But this thing between the two of us is over. And that means no showing up at my doorstep day and night looking all sinful and delicious.”
    “You think I’m delicious?”
    Juliette grabbed his jacket and dragged him to the door. “Did I say delicious? I meant to say, disgusting and pathetic.” She jerked the door open. “You need to leave. Now.”
    He gave her one long, wistful glance before parting. That same look of longing that left her heart aching for more.

Chapter 22: Good Intentions
    That night Juliette tossed and turned as she found herself trapped in a nightmare featuring Courtney and Ty. The perfect political couple, announcing their wedding and walking down the aisle in a magnificent Catholic church the size of a small palace. She dreamed of Courtney beaming in a beautiful white dress. She dreamed that Courtney designated her as maid of honor. And then right when the minister asked if there were any objections to the wedding, a voice from the back of the chapel would cry out, “I object!” The words boomed off the stained glass windows and gilded chandeliers. All eyes turned toward Juliette and the guests screamed out at her. Traitor! Whore! Harlot!
    It was the same dream over and over and each time she woke in a drenched sweat.
    The third time she climbed out of bed and padded into the living room, swiping another cookie from the countertop as she went. She settled down into the sofa and clicked on the TV. Then she began mindlessly flicking through the channels, searching for a distraction.
    She found herself nervously reaching for her phone and scanning her emails. She was so miserable she wanted to text Courtney right now and confess. She didn’t care what she had promised Ty. Their lies had gone too far. And what if Courtney found out the truth before she finished her assignment? It would devastate their friendship and she would have to explain to Covington why she shouldn’t go within a twenty-foot radius of her mark.
    She set the phone down. Tyler was right. Courtney was going to be upset either way. If she told her the truth now it would only make things worse.
    Another ten minutes crept by. Juliette was groggy and tired, but she didn’t want to have that same dream for a fourth time. The sugar failed to keep her awake. She headed to the kitchen to grab a fresh bottle of wine. Her eyes lingered on the liquor cabinet. Maybe this is an occasion for something a little stronger?
    She set the wine bottle down and opened the cupboard door. She scanned the clear bottles until her hand stopped in front of an unopened bottle of tequila. That would be perfect.
    She grabbed it by the neck, moved back to the fridge to grab a lemon and then reached for a salt shaker near the stove. She carried her ensemble to the coffee table and got to work. Fifteen minutes and two shots later she was already feeling a little tipsy. She sat sprawled out on the living room floor surfing YouTube videos.
    Her computer chimed and a bubble popped up on the corner of the window. It was an instant message from Margaret.
    Margs2.0: Hey fabulous bitch. What are you doing up so late?

    Jules2381: I could ask you the same thing.
    Juliette was pretty certain she misspelled a few of those