Page 140
Story: The Faking Game
I do have work to do. I’ve been working long hours each day, sewing, draping, making patterns. But I’ve got more than half of it finished… and I have no shoots coming up.
For weeks, formonths, I’ve been so afraid and focused on living life despite it all. This is an escape for a few days. Away from the stalker and from regimented schedules.
And it’s an opportunity.
West’s gaze rests heavily on me. If I don’t go, he won’t go. And Rafe so wants me to say yes. But maybe it’s not about them. Maybe it’s about me.
“This is unexpected.” I brush my hair back, collect it at the nape of my neck. “Which means the stalker won’t see it coming. He might not even realize I’ve left the country if we play our cards right.”
Rafe looks at me. “You’re thinking strategically?”
“We can set a trap.” West’s voice is low, and his eyes drift to the exposed left side of my neck. He looks away, but he moves a step closer.
“Yes,” I say. “Keep all the routines here at Fairhaven the exact same, but relax security a bit. Provide an opening. See if he takes it.”
“And if he does, we’ll catch him,” West says. “Clever girl.”
I’ve just begun to smile when Rafe laughs, and I realize what he’s just said.In front of my brother.But Rafe just walks up to the kitchen counter and looks through the bowl of pastries Melissa has left out. “That was smart,” he agrees. “We should have a meeting with the security team.”
“I’ll set it up.” West closes the distance between us with a few strides and looks over his shoulder at where Rafe has his back turned. He pushes my hair forward, pressing it against the left side of my neck.
I blink up at him.
“Hickey,” he mouths, and just as quickly takes a step away from me.
My cheeks heat up. I’ve never had a hickey in my life.
West looks like the picture of ease again, hands braced behind him on the stone counter. “We’ll take my plane,” he tells Rafe. “I’ll call the controller, see what slot times we can get.”
Rafe smiles at us both, a muffin in hand. He was the one to suggest his best friend and little sister fake date, and he’s now the one person who can’t find out what’s happening in private.
“It’ll be fun,” he says.
CHAPTER39
NORA
West’s plane is waiting for us on the tarmac when we arrive. Attentive staff welcome us when we climb onboard. I’m already in a pair of sweats and ready to curl up in a seat in the corner. Despite the warm spring air, I’m wearing a sweater with a high cowl neck.
West noticed it and smiled. I narrowed my eyes at him.A hickey?That was all his doing.
The plane is beautiful inside. The details, the colors, it’s all familiar. It takes me a while to clock why. It’s the same color scheme as Fairhaven. Dark wood, light blue details and plush beige. The back of each seat is an emblazonedC, complete with the curved embellishments I’ve seen so many times on the wrought-iron gates.
I wait until we’ve taken off before I mention it, running my finger along the wood of the table. “This plane looks like Fairhaven.”
“I had it designed that way.” West’s voice is low, his hand around a glass of scotch.
“James built it?”
“He did. Same as ours.” Rafe rolls his neck, his legs stretched out into the aisle. He says it so easily.Ours.But he’s in charge of where the Montclair plane goes and when. Has been for years. Dad never looped either of us into the important decisions, and then he passed unexpectedly, and now… Rafe has continued the practice.
When my brother leaves to go chat with the pilots, I watch his retreating back. As soon as he’s gone, I lean toward West.
He’s already looking at me.
“West!” I put my hand against my neck, covered by the fabric. “Why did you do that?”
“I didn’t mark you on purpose.” He reaches over, and I hold still as he folds down the fabric. His eyes are focused on the bruise. “I was a little… distracted.”
For weeks, formonths, I’ve been so afraid and focused on living life despite it all. This is an escape for a few days. Away from the stalker and from regimented schedules.
And it’s an opportunity.
West’s gaze rests heavily on me. If I don’t go, he won’t go. And Rafe so wants me to say yes. But maybe it’s not about them. Maybe it’s about me.
“This is unexpected.” I brush my hair back, collect it at the nape of my neck. “Which means the stalker won’t see it coming. He might not even realize I’ve left the country if we play our cards right.”
Rafe looks at me. “You’re thinking strategically?”
“We can set a trap.” West’s voice is low, and his eyes drift to the exposed left side of my neck. He looks away, but he moves a step closer.
“Yes,” I say. “Keep all the routines here at Fairhaven the exact same, but relax security a bit. Provide an opening. See if he takes it.”
“And if he does, we’ll catch him,” West says. “Clever girl.”
I’ve just begun to smile when Rafe laughs, and I realize what he’s just said.In front of my brother.But Rafe just walks up to the kitchen counter and looks through the bowl of pastries Melissa has left out. “That was smart,” he agrees. “We should have a meeting with the security team.”
“I’ll set it up.” West closes the distance between us with a few strides and looks over his shoulder at where Rafe has his back turned. He pushes my hair forward, pressing it against the left side of my neck.
I blink up at him.
“Hickey,” he mouths, and just as quickly takes a step away from me.
My cheeks heat up. I’ve never had a hickey in my life.
West looks like the picture of ease again, hands braced behind him on the stone counter. “We’ll take my plane,” he tells Rafe. “I’ll call the controller, see what slot times we can get.”
Rafe smiles at us both, a muffin in hand. He was the one to suggest his best friend and little sister fake date, and he’s now the one person who can’t find out what’s happening in private.
“It’ll be fun,” he says.
CHAPTER39
NORA
West’s plane is waiting for us on the tarmac when we arrive. Attentive staff welcome us when we climb onboard. I’m already in a pair of sweats and ready to curl up in a seat in the corner. Despite the warm spring air, I’m wearing a sweater with a high cowl neck.
West noticed it and smiled. I narrowed my eyes at him.A hickey?That was all his doing.
The plane is beautiful inside. The details, the colors, it’s all familiar. It takes me a while to clock why. It’s the same color scheme as Fairhaven. Dark wood, light blue details and plush beige. The back of each seat is an emblazonedC, complete with the curved embellishments I’ve seen so many times on the wrought-iron gates.
I wait until we’ve taken off before I mention it, running my finger along the wood of the table. “This plane looks like Fairhaven.”
“I had it designed that way.” West’s voice is low, his hand around a glass of scotch.
“James built it?”
“He did. Same as ours.” Rafe rolls his neck, his legs stretched out into the aisle. He says it so easily.Ours.But he’s in charge of where the Montclair plane goes and when. Has been for years. Dad never looped either of us into the important decisions, and then he passed unexpectedly, and now… Rafe has continued the practice.
When my brother leaves to go chat with the pilots, I watch his retreating back. As soon as he’s gone, I lean toward West.
He’s already looking at me.
“West!” I put my hand against my neck, covered by the fabric. “Why did you do that?”
“I didn’t mark you on purpose.” He reaches over, and I hold still as he folds down the fabric. His eyes are focused on the bruise. “I was a little… distracted.”
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