In this twisty psychological thriller from the  New York Times  bestselling author of  The Girl Before,  an actress plays both sides of a murder investigation.   “[A] rich, nuanced, highly literary take on the  Gone Girl  theme.”— Booklist  (starred review)   Claire Wright is desperate. A British drama student in New York without a green card, she takes the only job she can get: working for a firm of divorce lawyers, posing as an easy pickup in hotel bars to entrap straying husbands. But then the game changes.    When one of her targets becomes the suspect in a murder investigation, the police ask Claire to use her acting chops to lure him into a confession. From the start, she questions the part she’s being asked to play: Is Patrick Fogler a killer? Or is there more to this setup than she’s being told?   Claire will soon realize she is playing the deadliest role of her life.    Praise for  Believe Me   “For readers who enjoyed the paranoia factor in A. J. Finn’s  The Woman in the Window  or the unreliable narrator of Paula Hawkins’s  The Girl on the Train .” — Library Journal   “Produces a bobsled run’s worth of twists.”  — Publishers Weekly   “An intense, stylish psychological thriller.” — Good Housekeeping   “A dark and haunting thriller . . . A superb evocation of conflicted emotions, this never lets you guess what’s coming next.” — Daily Mail   “I so enjoyed it—what a twisty, exciting read.” —Sabine Durrant, author of  Lie With Me “A compelling read . . . redefines the concept of an unreliable narrator . . . [a] rich, nuanced, highly literary take on the Gone Girl theme.” — Booklist (starred review) “Fast-paced . . . A solid pick from bestselling author [JP] Delaney for readers who enjoyed the paranoia factor in A.J. Finn’s  The Woman in the Window  or the unreliable narrator of Paula Hawkins’s  The Girl on the Train . The domestic thriller trend is showing no signs of slowing. Buy accordingly.” — Library Journal   “An intense, stylish psychological thriller.” —Good Housekeeping “A dark and haunting thriller . . . A superb evocation of conflicted emotions, this never lets you guess what’s coming next.” — Daily Mail “The author produces a bobsled run’s worth of twists.” — Publishers Weekly    “I so enjoyed it—what a twisty, exciting read.” —Sabine Durrant, author of  Lie With Me Praise for JP Delaney’s The Girl Before   “A pitch-perfect novel of psychological suspense.” —Lee Child   “The pages fly.” — USA Today   “ The Girl Before generates a fast pace.” —The New York Times   “Get hooked on this hair-raiser.” — Cosmopolitan   “[A] must-read.” —New York Post   “Almost unbearably suspenseful.” —Joseph Finder   “A masterfully crafted spellbinder.” —Booklist (starred review)   “Superior psychological suspense.” —The Bookseller   “A sexy murder mystery.” — InStyle The  New York Times  bestselling author of  The Girl Before  and  Believe Me ,  JP Delaney  has previously written fiction under other names. 1 My friend hasn’t showed yet. That’s what you’d think if you saw me here, perched at the bar of this corporate-­cool New York hotel, trying to make my Virgin Mary last all evening. Just another young professional waiting for her date. A little more dressy than some of the other women here, maybe. I don’t look like I just came from an office. At the other end of the bar a group of young men are drinking and joshing, punching one another on the shoulder to make their points. One—­good-­looking, smartly dressed, athletic—­catches my eye. He smiles. I look away. Soon after, a table becomes free near the back, and I take my drink over and sit at it. Where, suddenly, this little scene unfolds: INT. DELTON HOTEL BAR, W. 44TH ST., NEW YORK—­NIGHT MAN (belligerently) Excuse me? Someone’s standing in front of me. A businessman, about forty-­five, wearing an expensive casual-­cut suit that suggests he’s something more than the usual executive drone, the collar lapped by hair that’s just a little too long for Wall Street. He’s angry. Very angry. ME Yes? MAN That’s my table. I just went to the bathroom. He gestures at the laptop, drink, and magazine I somehow managed to miss. MAN That’s my drink. My stuff. It was pretty clear this table’s occupied. Around us, heads are turning in our direction. But there’s going to be no confrontation, no eruption of New York stress. Already I’m getting to my feet, pulling my bag onto my shoulder. Defusing the drama. ME Sorry—­I hadn’t realized. I’ll find somewhere else. I take a step away and look around helplessly, but the place is busy and my previous seat has gone. There is nowhere else. Out of the corner of my eye I can sense him taking me in, running his eyes over Jess’s Donna Karan jacket, the expensive one she keeps for auditions, the soft dark cashmere that sets off my pale skin and dark hair. And realizing what a stupid mistake he’s making. MAN Wait . . . I guess we could share it. H