LIE (Right Men Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty- One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty- Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty- Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Epilogue

  Table of Contents

  TITLE

  Synopsis

  Copyright

  Acknowledgments

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty- One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty- Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty- Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Epilogue

  STEAL- Right Men Series

  Mayra Statham’s other book:

  About Mayra Statham

  Synopsis

  Box office sensation, Marcus Wright is ready to take on the role of director. Romance author and single mom, Grace Rivera, is shocked when the sexiest man alive knocks on her door with the intent to bring her book to life.

  He is willing to do anything to get what he wants, even use his charms on the beautiful, curvy woman standing in his way. Only it doesn't take long for the shy woman to unknowingly embed herself under his skin.

  In a world where one plays make believe and the other writes it, will they determine everything between them is a LIE? Or will they be able to LIE in one another's arms when the truth comes out?

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2016 by Mayra Statham

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Acknowledgments

  My forever boyfriend- Thank you for being my #1 cheerleader. I love you baby.

  My beautiful kids- Dream, believe, work and create. Anything and everything is possible if you work at it.

  Julia Goda, CP Smith, Tracie Douglas, Kelly Tucker, Leah Joslin & Jennifer Miller- Thank you so much for your friendship, love and support. This book shines brighter because of each of you. I find myself very blessed to call you my friends. Each one of you held my hand at so many different moments, I’m not sure how I would have been able to create this book without you. <3

  My wonderful author, blogger and bookworm buddies- Thank you for your help and support & guidance. You know who you and how much you mean to me! Moon and back!

  My Statham Sexy Stars- You guys rock! Hope you like Marc & Grace!

  To you, the reader- Thank you for taking a chance! Hope you fall in love with Marcus and Grace as much as I love them.

  Feel free to email me at [email protected] anytime!

  Or find me on social media such as FaceBook, Snapchat, Twitter or Instagram @mystathamwrites

  Dedication

  Never lie.

  But if you must,

  lie in the arms of the one you love.

  -Hitch

  Prologue

  Marcus Wright

  The bass was loud and on beat with his throbbing headache. Why the hell he let his co-star Craig Daniels talk him into going out tonight when they had an early morning on set was beyond him. Sipping his beer, he rolled his neck and looked toward his friend.

  Three women were draped all over him, each one hardly wearing anything, and what they were wearing looked as if it had been painted on. He saw Craig's dress shirt undone, his head thrown back, meaning he was clearly on a high of some sort, and shook his head.

  He wanted to go home.

  This scene was more than old to him. Especially after ending things with his ex, fellow actress and America's fucking sweetheart, Katie Wells. Just the thought of her made his headache worse. Taking one last drag from the one beer he’d indulged in, he stood from his spot on the couch of the VIP lounge club owner Jake Thompson had quickly cleared for them the moment Craig’s overworked assistant made him. Even now the poor girl stood in the wings, just waiting for Craig to call her over.

  “Hey, man, I’m out,” he told Craig. He knew it was useless, because Craig wasn’t even seeing him.

  One of the two brunettes on Craig moved over to him, touching his arm, and started kissing his neck. He stopped his body from reacting.

  He was taking a break from easy pussy. It had been fun, but he was over it. Maybe he was feeling old, but he wanted something more… something with substance.

  “Craig…” he tried again, but Craig was high as a kite. Eyes glazed over, head bopping to the beat of some club song about taking a fucking selfie that was playing obnoxiously.

  “Where you going?” the brunette, whose tits were pressed tight to his front now, whined. Her silicone breasts pushed him back slightly. Fuck, what the hell was wrong with him? He never cared about fake or real tits; he enjoyed them equally, but tonight they didn’t do shit for him. They were too hard. Too fake. Too much.

  “Home. Party with our boy here. I’m out.” He stepped away carefully. She moved her overdone, botoxed lips in what she probably thought looked like a pout but quickly got over it as she kissed the redhead draped over Craig's other side. He took the scene in for a second. He was only human after all.

  Grabbing his sunglasses from his coat, he started to walk out. But before he could make it too far, he felt familiar cold, thin fingers grab his wrist. He turned and wished he hadn’t. Fuck! When she stepped in close to him, he stood straighter, bracing like someone would around a snake. Her soft but ice-cold hands moved up his forearms as she stepped in as close as she could. Her overly sweet perfume made him want to gag.

  “Hey.” She leaned in and whispered, and he fought from rolling his eyes.

  “Katie.”
His voice came out clear. He knew by the way she was looking up at him through her fake lashes, her big blues on him, she was up to something.

  “Dance with me,” her soft Marilyn Monroe-esque voice ordered in his ear. He shook his head.

  That was the last thing he needed to do. Katie was nothing but a fucking headache. He should have known better and only had himself to blame, really. They had met through their agents, had been casted in a romantic comedy, and he’d thought sparks had ignited. When the movie had been wrapped up, they kept seeing one another, and the media had gone crazy. But he wasn’t about the spotlight and that’s all she was about. When he’d realized his gigantic mistake, it had taken him a year, but he’d finally scraped her off. He didn’t need anyone taking snap shots of them talking, much less dancing together.

  “Why?” she whined, and he was done. He’d been done with her for a long time and didn’t need to waste any more.

  “I gotta go.” He stepped back, done with whatever she was up to, and bumped into someone. Turning, about to apologize, he saw two hands hit his chest, making him fall back a step.

  “What the fuck, man?” A vaguely familiar, overly muscled-up guy who was about five inches shorter than him asked, making Marcus frown.

  “Russy!” Katie shrieked behind him. Great. Russ Gibbs, Katie’s new man. Some reality TV, steroid-pumped goody-two-shoes.

  “Like I said, what the fuck, man? You need to stay the fuck away from my woman,” ‘Russy’ barked, and Marcus looked at him impassively, trying not to hide his look of disgust at the smell of weed and whiskey.

  God, when had Hollywood become such a cliché?

  “I don't want her, man. Trust me, she’s all yours!” he told the idiot kid, who was obviously letting his fifteen minutes of fame get to his head. With a shake to his head, he started to walk away.

  Shaking hands with Thompson at the exit, he grabbed his glasses, knowing full well the camera flashes would be brighter than fuck. His hand on the door handle, he stepped out, and the first thing he heard was screaming. Then Thompson’s deep voice warned him over the loud music, but it was too late.

  Russ Gibbs’ fist hit Marcus’ temple, making him fall through the half open door. He came out to the flashing cameras and fans stumbling, falling to the ground. Without thinking, having grown up with two brothers and his best friend whom he considered a brother, he pushed himself up and hit back. Defending himself from the drunk asshole.

  Flashes and cameras snapped. Fans cheered, screamed.

  Paparazzi had a field day at the unexpected gift of a great payday for the best shot of what they would spin as Good ‘Real’ Guy Russ Gibbs defending America’s Good Girl’s honor from Hollywood’s Bad Mr. Wright.

  Fuck, there was no winning for losing in this city.

  Grace Rivera

  Folding the piles of laundry that she’d brought over to the couch in her small living room, Grace smiled at her daughter, Lexi, who was coloring at the kitchen table. She slowed the pace of folding the still warm towels as she watched a report on E News. A scene showing Hollywood’s new Bad Mr. Wright, as they were calling Rom-Com/Superhero leading man Marcus Wright, played out in front of her.

  “Mr. Wright did wrong once again.” The reporter smiled, and something about that annoyed her. How could that reporter find joy in someone’s mess?

  “A night of partying broke into fight night. Rumors are leading man Marcus Wright had one too many and tried to cozy up to ex, Katie Wells. The two dated for two years. Sources say that did not sit very well with her new beau, Grasping Life with the Gibbs Family reality star, Russ Gibbs. Thankfully, the paparazzi were there to get it all on film as naughty Mr. Wright was taught a lesson by Gibbs. Let’s watch!” the news reporter said.

  They played a clip of two men already fighting. You didn’t see who started what, but you certainly knew Marcus Wright was not just a pretty face as he kicked Gibbs’ ass even if outweighed by at least twenty pounds of solid muscle.

  “Wow, Mom, he got that guy good!” Lexi was suddenly next to her, her little green eyes wide and glued to the screen in front of them.

  “Fighting doesn't solve anything,” Grace automatically answered, giving her best mom voice. “Go put your books and crayons away, baby. It’s almost bed time.” She watched her daughter walk to the table and grabbed the remote control.

  Before switching the channel, she watched the still frame of Marcus Wright’s face. He was so damn good-looking. Too bad he was such bad news. Bad Mr. Wright. The silly tabloid name fit him but didn't at the same time. She knew her thoughts were going off into dreamland, but she was allowed to fantasize.

  As a single mom, she was not the type to gamble. But she’d bet her mortgage payment without a blink of an eye that a man like Marcus Wright would be damn good when he was being bad.

  She smirked to herself at how good his naughtiness would be. He was a man who could make a bedframe shake. Hard. The thought made her laugh. Then she shook away the dirty thoughts before switching the channel to the Food Network and the drama of Cupcake Wars.

  Chapter One

  One Month later

  Marcus Wright

  He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath of air that smelled of fresh rain and dirt. He was sure he’d never smelled anything better. It’s what he needed to clear his mind: the fresh air and this place. It reminded him life wasn’t as complicated as he usually thought it was.

  Marcus tried to go to his Montana home at least three times a year. Especially when it felt Hollywood and every pair of eyes were dead set on him and everything he did. It was only April, and he’d been there four separate weekends. That was how out of hand his life felt lately.

  Every single wall felt like it’d been quickly closing in around him.

  But here he could breathe. Exhaling, he watched the sun start to rise over the horizon. He sat on the Redwood deck of the main house of his sprawling property, his feet kicked up against the stark white railing. He sipped his coffee as he looked toward the majestic beauty of a new day rising and felt the stress of the tabloids and paparazzi running wild with his and Hollywood's ‘Good Girl’ Katie Wells’ breakup as well as the mess with ‘Russy’ start to wear off. The tension at his temples and shoulders loosened up.

  Donald ‘Donnie’ Bosco, his childhood friend and manager, sat next to him, handing him a book. "What's this?" he asked without looking at his friend, his eyes still taking in the light of the new day painting the land.

  "This, buddy, is IT." Marcus didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about.

  "What?"

  "What we have been waiting on," Don clarified. Marcus scowled as he looked down at the cover of what seemed to be a romance novel.

  "What the fuck are you talking about?" he asked, finally glancing at his friend.

  "Your directorial debut for our new production company," Donnie explained, a cheesy fucking grin on his face, which caught Marcus' attention. Don knew how important this was to him. Shit, it was just as important to Don. Sitting up, he looked at the back of the book, the small blurb on the back catching his attention.

  "How'd you find this?" he asked.

  “Grandma.” Marcus couldn’t help shut his eyes tightly. What the fuck was Donnie’s problem? Out of everyone in his life, Don was the only one who knew exactly how stressed out he’d been lately. Don should definitely know he was not in the mood to fuck around.

  “Nicola?”

  “Do we have another one?” Though they weren’t blood, Donnie was his brother nonetheless, having grown up in the Wright family fold. “I know it sounds crazy, but listen to me, okay?”

  “Okay.” Marcus fought from rolling his eyes. He was supposed to be relaxing and winding down, not listening to a story about their crazy-ass grandma. He loved Nicola, but she was a character and a half.

  “She overheard us talking the other day and then made me read this. I thought she was nuts,” Don chuckled, “but this time she was not wrong. No joke, Marc, she’s on the mon
ey with this.”

  “I don’t know, man…A romance novel? I mean, who even published this?”

  “That's the best part, Marc, it’s independently published, which means…”

  “Less red tape,” he murmured, taking in the bright colors of the paperback.

  “Exactly.” Donnie smiled and pointed at the book in Marc’s hands. “This story… Marc, this is it! This is the movie we are going to start our production company with. This is what's going to give you an Oscar nod for directing at the very least." Donnie’s overconfidence could have been annoying if Marc hadn’t known him as well as he did.

  Don had always been a man of few words, making each one count, and his excitement and confidence on this made something in Marc start to perk up. “Read it,” Donnie pushed again, pointing at the book.

  “Right now?” he asked, suddenly feeling all the weight of the last couple of weeks right back on his shoulders. All he wanted was a couple of days alone at his ranch in peace.

  “Right-freaking-now, man,” he said enthusiastically, snapping him out of his thoughts, and he sighed.

  “Fine.” He opened the book then felt Donnie move and turned, “What? Are you going to watch me read?”

  “Yes, asshole. Just fucking read it!” Don shook his head, a sly grin on his face. “Trust me. Shit.”

  Marcus opened it and read the dedication.

  Lexi-bell: everything I do, I do for you.

  He scowled, and his expectations dropped incredibly.

  They had talked extensively about the type of movie Marc and Don wanted to be their first. They had been buying time and saving money, all so that they could one day do something more. He knew he had to trust his best friend. Don knew what was at stake.

  Diving into the book, he had no clue, none whatsoever, not even an inkling, that this moment would be the catalyst that would change the course of the rest of his life.