Beers, Lies and Alibis (Warblers Point Series Book 2)

Beers, Lies and Alibis

Book Two of the Warblers Point Series

By Meghan Quinn

Published by Meghan Quinn

Copyright 2013.

Cover by Meghan Quinn

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at [email protected]

All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination.
www.authormeghanquinn.com

Chapter 1

“Booker, I don’t know if I can do this,” Fiona said, while playing with the diamond-encrusted bracelet that circled her right wrist. She was so damn nervous, she needed to either throw up or make an emergency trip to the little girl’s room; substances wanted to come out both ends of her.
 

“Baby, look at me.” Fiona looked up at Booker and met his beautiful blue eyes, the blue eyes she fell in love with a couple of months ago. “You got this; this is no big deal. We’re going to have fun tonight, remember?”

Fiona peeked out the window and knew fun was nowhere in sight for her. Booker was used to these kinds of things; she was not.
 

“I can’t. I don’t fit in. Everyone is going to take one look at me and wonder what the hell you were thinking.” Sweat started to caress her upper lip at the thought of everyone judging her. “What was I thinking coming with you? I am mortified.” She put her head in her hands, completely ashamed for thinking that she could hang with someone like Booker James.

“Stop,” Booker said with a strong tone. “You are, by far, the most gorgeous girl out here tonight…” Fiona huffed, but Booker cut her off before she could reply to his absurd comment. “Tonight is about us having fun, drinking, and then getting lucky later on when we’re back home,” Booker said, while wagging his eyebrows.
 

He was trying to lighten the mood and she loved him for it, but his light-hearted comment had no effect on the butterflies that were running through her stomach.
 

The car they were in pulled up and a man in a tuxedo reached for the handle to let them out. Fiona quickly locked the door before the eager valet could open their car door. Booker laughed at Fiona’s attempt to stay in the car, but unlocked the door for the valet who was extremely confused. He had probably never had a door locked on him before.
 

“No turning back now, babe. Come on.” Booker stepped out of the vehicle as a roar of excited fans made their affection known for Booker James.
 

Nausea rolled through Fiona’s body, but he was right; there was no turning back now, since he was leaning in toward the car, holding his hand out to her. She wanted to yell to the driver to make a quick getaway, but that wasn’t possible, thanks to the roped-off drop off location and directed traffic. The only way she would be making a quick getaway would be on the heels of her magnificent silver pumps and the thought of running in them was less than appealing.
 

Trying to block out the scene around her, Fiona placed her hand into Booker’s and allowed him to pull her out of the car. She kept her gaze down as she took in the sight of the man holding her hand.
 

He was a vision in black; he wore a black suit that was tailored to perfection, a black dress shirt and a black tie. The suit jacket fit him just perfectly and framed his toned chest. He looked so damn good, it almost hurt to look at him.
 

“Look at me, baby.” Booker lifted her head and forced her to look him in the eyes. “Just you and me,” he said with a wink, as he started walking her down the red carpet that was lined for all the lucky celebrities who were invited to Booker’s new movie, “Tainted Dreams.”
 

Apparently, the movie was the hottest ticket in town to be invited to, but Fiona wanted nothing to do with it. She most likely was the only one too. She knew millions of girls would kill to be in her shoes, literally stab a bitch with the end of their heel to be on the arm of the famous Booker James, but she really wasn’t ready yet for all the attention.
 

She was a small-town girl; yes, her dream was to see the world, but she would like to see the world without the world seeing her as well. She had spent the last couple of months in California with Booker, in his beach house, living the Cali life and enjoying it very much, up until this point. She knew it was coming; she knew she was going to have to be in the spotlight at some point, especially since Booker was such a famous director, but she just didn’t think she could handle it.
 

All different types of cameras pointed at Fiona and Booker as they walked down the red carpet to watch the premiere of his new movie. Walked actually wasn’t the correct world, more like moseyed, sauntered…dawdled down the red carpet. Booker had her turning in all different directions when photographers called out his name, making her feel like a rag doll as he moved her in every direction he could possibly turn.
 

Examining their progress down the red carpet, Fiona came to the conclusion that in the last minute they must have moved a few inches…inches! It was going to be one long night.
 

The only thing Fiona was looking forward to was the massive amount of booze waiting for her at the end of the red carpet of torture. Her Irish bones were calling for a good brew, maybe even a hard whiskey, a little chest hair never hurt a girl. But with the dress she was wearing, it could possibly be a life-ending traumatic event if chest hair sprouted from the deep V-cut of the jade green dress Booker had picked out for her to wear.
 

She giggled to herself at the thought of thick curly chest hair sprouting from the valley between her breasts…talk about a sure-fire way to turn a man completely off.
 

“What’s so funny?” Booker asked, as he leaned down into her ear, which sent shivers through her body and put her non-bra covered breasts at high attention in the silky dress. Damn him.
 

She turned toward his body so her “high-beams” could cool off before some perverted camera man could catch how easily her hunk of a boyfriend could turn her on.
 

“I’ll explain later,” she said back. “Are we ever going to get closer to where the magical inhibition-losing beverages are located?”

“My little Irish girl can’t be away from her brew for more than two seconds, can she?” he chuckled.
 

They continued to smile for the cameras as she talked through her teeth.
 

“If you expect me to make it through tonight without booze in my blood, you are sorely mistaken, mister.”

She looked around and observed the gorgeous dresses on the even more gorgeous women and wept to herself, knowing she was nowhere even close to the glamazons strutting their perky asses down the red carpet. She was, by far, no questions asked, inferior to everyone around her…even Booker.
 

She was not ready for this, but then again, she didn’t have a choice, since her heart chose Booker and this was what he did. She was just going to have to suck it up, put on a good smile for everyone, and be the little arm candy Booker needed for the night.
 

***

The night wasn’t going as well as Booker had hoped. Well, that wasn’t correct, the movie was a hit; people he had never met before were congratulating him on his brilliant work, but he could care less at the moment because when he looked over at his girl, she looked absolutely miserable.
 

He knew Fiona wasn’t going to feel like she fit in with everyone, hell Booker didn’t feel like he fit in, but he had learned to fake it. It was the only way he got through premiers and the rare interviews he conducted. He preferred it best when he used to be a hermit, but the minute he got back from Warblers Point and the media caught wind of his new look, pictures of him exploded everywhere and next thing he knew, he was voted Sexiest Man Alive. How the hell did that happen?

The title wasn’t lost on Fiona; it only made her feel like she didn’t belong in his world…her words, to be exact. He didn’t understand that because his world was her, his job was second to her, kind of like a hobby he did on occasion. But what made him tick, what made him wake up every day was the soft auburn hair and whiskey-colored eyes of Miss Fiona O’Leary.
 

He couldn’t get enough of her. Didn’t she realize that?

As he looked over at her, standing in the corner with her arms crossed and a cup of whiskey twirling in her hand, he realized she wasn’t very happy. He didn’t blame her; he wasn’t happy either, but these premiers and events didn’t happen very often. She could understand that, right?

Fear pricked at the back of his neck at the thought of Fiona not being able to handle his life. She was from a small town and not used to such attention, so he could understand her being uncomfortable, but not…miserable.
 

Maybe she didn’t like the movie? No, that couldn’t be it because instead of watching the movie during the premier, Booker watched her. He watched her reactions and took in every moment. The way she gasped when there was a turn in the plot, the way she gripped his hand tightly when someone was about to die, and the way her brow crinkled at the end from the mind-fuck of an ending. There was no way she didn’t like it.
 

If she liked the movie, then the atmosphere was definitely what was getting to her. Before she broke up with him and took off right there on the spot, he needed to get her home. He needed to remind her that their life was them exploring the world, sharing each other’s souls, and hanging out on a Friday night watching movies and making love. That was the life they shared together, not the glitzy, camera-flashing one they were living in at the moment.
 

He thanked everyone he was talking to, excused himself and went up to Fiona who was now studying the depths of her whiskey glass.
 

“Hey, you ready to get out of here?”

She looked up at him with glazed-over eyes. Shit, she was drunk. How many whiskeys did she have? He only remembered giving her one, but then again, he had to leave her quite often as he was pulled in all different directions, leaving her to fend for herself.
 

“You know, this shindig is all kinds of whack,” Fiona said, while talking into her glass.
 

It was definitely time to take the little lady home before something horrific came out of her mouth.
 

“Yup, whack…uh, let’s get going.” Booker sent a quick text to their driver to meet them around back, so they wouldn’t have to filter through the media once again and stroll down the “red carpet of torture,” as Fiona so nicely put it.
 

Fiona placed her hand on Booker’s chest to catch her balance as she stumbled. “Oh my, what a strong lad you are. Give mama some sugar.” Fiona puckered her lips and started making kissing noises as she tried to attack his neck with affection.
 

“Okay…Fiona, baby, let’s hold off on the kissing for now and get you to the car. How does that sound?”

“Sounds like you’re ashamed of little old me.” Fiona plopped herself on the floor as Booker prayed to the gods for a little bit of patience and a whole lot of privacy.
 

Quickly texting his driver again, Booker told him he needed a little bit of assistance with Fiona.
 

Booker bent down and lifted Fiona’s chin so she was looking him in the eyes. Not wanting to make a scene, Booker tried to make Fiona feel as good as possible in a short amount of time so he could get her to the safe confines of their rented transportation.
 

“On the contrary, I’m not ashamed of you. I’m so damn horny I need you now and want to take you in the car.”

Fiona lifted one eyebrow at him as she studied him for a second. “You want to fuck me?” she asked, while pointing at herself. “After all the women that dawdled down the carpet of death, you pick me to go home with?” Booker was about to answer her when she continued. “Ha!” She hiccupped and quickly covered her mouth with her hand as she giggled at herself. “Booker James, you have some low standards.”