Page 164 of The Faking Game
I turn, my knee already halfway up.
“Shit. Stop, stop…”
My knee pauses an inch from Dave’s groin. West’s cousin. The man we pretended in front of at the Paradise Lost party.
Last time I saw him, he was in a cigar-smoke filled room, playing poker for stakes higher than I could imagine. Now he’s standing in front of me under the blazing sun.
“What?” I ask.
He can’t be the stalker. That’s impossible. It has to be.
“I just wanted to talk to you.” His hands are pressed against the side of his stomach. “Shit, you reacted fast.”
“Talk to me? Why would you?—”
Sam is there in the next instant, standing behind my shoulder, an arm out and pressed against Dave’s chest. “Step back.”
“It’s fine. It’s all fine,” I say quickly. “Why would you want to talk to me?”
Dave’s eyes dart from my guard to me. “Because it’s near impossible to get you alone. I wanted to make you an offer.”
“An offer?”
“Yes. We don’t have much time.” He glances at Sam again. “Clearly you know about the marriage clause for Fairhaven. You’re dating my cousin.”
I give him a small smile to hide the turmoil inside. “I’m dating West, yeah.”
“And you’re Raphaël’s little sister.”
“I am, yes. Do you know him?” My question is polite, but I can’t help the hint of tenseness that seeps through. I don’t like this man. Don’t like how he pulled me back here.
“I haven’t had the pleasure.” Dave looks over at the crowd, like he’s waiting for West to appear at any moment. “You’re clearly getting ready to marry him before his thirtieth. I’m sure you think you’re being compensated fairly and think you’re doing him a favor. But think about what you’re agreeing to,” he says hurriedly. “A life tied to a Calloway isn’t a happy one.”
I don’t let my face change from the neutral mask I’m wearing. I have a lot of practice in being kind and polite, and right now, I wield it like a sword. I glance down at his left hand. “I believeyou’remarried.”
“Yes,” he says, “I am. Listen, we don’t have much time. If Weston told you that you could get a divorce in a few years, he’s probably lying. The trust is hard to break through. Tell me what he’s paying you, and I promise to double it if you leave him.”
“Double what he’s paying me,” I repeat.
Sweat beads on his forehead. “I’ll triple it if you wait to pull out of the wedding until the week before his birthday. String him along.”
Several things click into place at once, and it takes me a moment to find the words. To let the anger come, but when it does, it burns. “I’m not with him for money.”
Dave laughs. It’s a short and hard sound. “Yes, yes, of course you’re not. Look, if you would rather have this conversation somewhere less public, I’m available.” He presses a business card into my hand. “Just think on it.”
There’s always been such a weird insistence on marriage: West’s mother, people’s comments.Marriage clause for Fairhaven.
“Thank you,” I say, “but I don’t need saving, and I don’t want your money.”
Dave’s eyes widen, as if he’s realizing I might be a fool. “He can’t give you love. Surely you must know that. Whatever he’s promised you, it’ll never turn into something real.”
“And what would you know of that?” I ask him. My voice is still kind, but it drips with insincerity. “Are you the person who shares his bed every night?”
I’ve never spoken like that to anyone before.
Anyone who’s not West.
Dave shakes his head slowly, and there’s an incredulous look on his face. “I can’t believe?—”
