Page 11 of The Faking Game
Her eyes widen. “You saw that?”
“Hard not to.” She was half-draped over luggage made by one of the storied luxury brands her family’s company owns, her hair mussed like she’d just gotten out of bed, and her eyes staring straight at the camera.
Straight at me every time I passed by.
“Who I date isn’t your business.”
“Why do you want to make my job harder than it already is?”
“Keeping me safe isn’t your job. That task belongs to your security guards, and they’re doing a great job. They were standing outside that restaurant, keeping a steady eye on us the whole time. They were probably bored out of their minds.”
“Itismy job. Your brother made it mine,” I say. “That man could beanyone.He could be your stalker. Did you think of that?”
She takes a deep breath. “He isnot.I matched with him on an app.”
“Which proves nothing,” I say tightly. She’s on online dating apps? She’s far, far too well-known. “This is serious. Did you act this spoiled with Rafe too?”
“I’m spoiled?” she asks. “Remind me where you’re living. Did you build Fairhaven? Did you buy it? Or did youinheritit?”
Twisted amusement makes my lip twitch.There she is,I think. That’s all her, the true her. Not the kind and sweet little sister Rafe thinks he has. “I’m trying to help you.”
“And I appreciate that. Truly, I do… even if you constantly remind me just howlittleyou want to help. But I still have to live my life.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “I haven’t done anything wrong. I brought the guards tonight and informed them of my plans. You didn’t have to get involved.”
I take a step closer and lower my voice. “Whether you like it or not, trouble, I am involved. And until we catch whoever is… obsessed with you, you’re stuck with me.”
“Do you want me chained at your hip? Glued to your side? West, I have things to do, people to meet, places to be.” She takes a step back, like she needs to put distance between us. “I understand the threat, trust me. But I can’t change everything in my life because of the letters. I moved here to start fresh.”
“We don’t know yet whether it’s stopped,” I say. If her stalker stayed across the Atlantic, or if they followed her here.
“Maybe not.” Her voice trembles a little, but her eyes are fierce. “But I’m not giving up my life.”
“Your life of nightclubs and dating strange men? You can still go to work. You can do all kinds of things. Just don’t go to dark places with strangers, which includesdatingthem.” I shake my head. “Not until you’ve been here for a little while longer.”
“But I have to date.” The words slip out of her like a confession.
My eyes narrow. “Youhaveto?”
“Yes. Ihaveto.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because I’m practicing.” There’s color on her cheeks now. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I haven’t dated a lot in the past. I don’t have a ton of practice, and I’d like to one day be in a relationship, so this is important for me.”
“You don’t have a ton of practice,” I repeat.
Her cheeks flame. She looks like she wishes she could take back every single word. “No, and I’m not going to let this stalker keep me inside for another few months. I moved here to…” She shakes her head and looks away, like there’s no point in continuing the sentence.
“I know why,” I say. “For the Fashion Showcase you were chosen to compete in.”
Her eyes dart back to me. “You know about that?”
“Yes. Your brother told me. Impressive.” I run a hand along my jaw. “How the hell can you not have any dating experience?”
“I didn’t say that I don’t have any. I said I didn’t haveenough.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “That guy was perfectly nice, and you were rude to him.”
“Was he as perfectlyniceas you were?”
Her eyes narrow. “He might have been the love of my life.”
