Page 14 of The Faking Game
“A delivery?” My steps slow, and then I see it. The giant, over-the-top bouquet that’s standing on the otherwise empty countertop.
“Isn’t it gorgeous? We’ve all been eyeing it.” She gives me a wink. “A boyfriend?”
I feel faint. “Yeah,” I say. “Something like that.”
“Well, I’ll leave you to get settled in.”
My smile stays on, and I nod at her as she returns to the desk. A few of the other designers give me curious looks. I return them all with a smile and walk slowly, foot by foot, toward the workstation like the flowers might bite.
There’s a card attached.
I won’t touch it. Ican’ttouch it. After the first three letters in Paris, I stopped opening them. Just sent them all to my brother’s security team. But it’s half-opened, and I can see the words clear as day.
New York is nice, isn’t it?
It’s not signed. They never are, but I know who sent it. How did he know I’m starting work today? That I’d behere?
I look at the beautiful sewing machine at my desk. The people around me, who I’ve been so excited to meet. To get to know. To be accepted by.
I close my eyes for a few long breaths, and then I call in Sam and Madison. I want to ask them not to involve West, but I know that’s futile. Everything I do these days, it seems, has to involve other people.
He’s going to see me as even more of a nuisance than he already does. I hate being an inconvenience. Hate bothering other people.
I feel like screaming.
I settle for wrapping my arms around myself and stubbornly fighting back tears. My brother is convinced the stalker is someone I went on a few dates with in December. The letters started up shortly after, and then the texts, and the anonymous DMs. The occasional picture.
And now the stalker has followed me to New York?
I hoist up my big bag of fabrics and sayno thank youwhen Sam offers to carry it for me. He already has the bouquet in a large plastic bag tucked under his arm, while Madison is reporting on the phone.
I walk in front of them back to the apartment, choking back the tears. The last thing I want is for either of them to see. They’ll probably report that to West too. I bet everything I do now is reported to West.
I alreadyhavea stalker. It’s funny, how little I treasured my freedom before it was taken from me. Now I’m constantly monitored.
I’m barely through the door of my apartment when my phone rings. I answer, and in French, my brother asks, “Are you okay?”
“Yes. It was just flowers and a note.” I take a deep breath. “I’m just a bit shaken. I thought…”
“I know. I hoped too. West is on his way.” Rafe’s voice is tight. “This asshole knows where you work and probably where you live. I don’t know how the fuck he figured it out so fast, but I want that changed.”
“Changed? I just got here.” I close my eyes against the sadness. I thought I was done with the fear. “And I like where I live, and where?—”
“West’s place is a fortress,” Rafe says.
“You want me tomove inwith West?”
“Yes, and it’s not up for debate.” We’re not that far apart in age, but over the last few years, it’s felt like a chasm. He had to fight to gain control of Maison Valmont after our dad died. He’s finally in the CEO position, but the board is making him work to keep it. “Nora, please,” he says, switching to English. Having one Swiss parent and one American has made our conversations a constant negotiation between the two languages. “Mom is worried too. We’re all worried. This isn’t forever. My guys will work with West’s, and we’ll find this asshole.”
He’s said that for the last several months. But the special investigators he’s hired haven’t found anything yet. Everything isinconclusive.
It’s the worry in his voice that convinces me. As much as I hate being a pushover, I hear myself agree. “Okay. But for a short period of time, right? And only if West agrees to it. I need some time to pack up my stuff.”
“He will,” Rafe says. “Stay by West’s side tonight. I don’t want you out of his or the guards’ sights.” Then he hangs up, the line going quiet on the other end.
My stomach knots. Hewillagree? So they haven’t spoken about it yet?
West is already annoyed at having to “rescue” me from innocent situations. He’s overbearing and annoyingly handsome, and he doesn’t like me. And now I have to live with him?
