Page 204 of The Faking Game
She looks up. “Does that mean I’ve finally aced that lesson?”
“Yes. Straight A’s across the board.”
She laughs a little. “Thank you for being here.”
“Nowhere else I’d be today, trouble.”
Applause rains down outside the black curtain, and on the screen, we see the models start to make their way back up the long, curved catwalk and toward us. That’s when Nora leans in suddenly. “Oh my god.”
“What?”
She points at the small monitor, to someone sitting in the front row right beside the judges. The pixels obscure his identity, but we both know him well enough to make him out.
Rafe is in the audience.
He’s going to cause a media stir.The young Maison Valmont CEO is here, scoping out his latest acquisition…
“I didn’t know he was coming,” I say.
“Me neither.” Nora takes another deep breath and steps away from me to welcome the models back. I help where I can and get out of the way when it’s needed. And soon, her things are back in the garment bags.
We end up in the designers’ waiting area outside, and I hand Nora a bottle of water. “Drink.” She looks at me for a second before obeying. “You’ve been on your feet for hours.”
“I’m exhausted,” she admits, “but I’m too keyed-up to relax.”
“Of course you are.”
“How are you so calm in all of this?”
I grin. “Because I have complete faith in you. Come here.”
She walks into me like I’m a wall, arms at her sides, her face into my chest. I chuckle and hold her tight. “You’re going to sleep for twelve straight hours after today.”
“Twenty-four,” she says, and finally reaches up to wrap her arms around my neck. “I did it.”
“You did it.”
Her eyes glow, and there are other people in this room, but I kiss her like none of them exist.
“Ugh,” a voice says beside us. Annoying and annoyingly familiar. “I know I just came around to the idea of you two, but do I have toseeit?”
I lift my head and give Rafe a stare. But I don’t step away from Nora. “Too soon?”
“Too soon,” he says.
Nora looks over at her brother. “Well,” she says, “that’stoobad.”
And then she kisses me again.
I’m laughing when she finally steps back. Rafe has turned his back to us, arms crossed over his chest. He’s rigid, but there’s no anger in him. That much is clear.
It feels like a giant fucking relief.
“We’re done now,” Nora announces.
Rafe turns, his dark eyebrows pulled low. He got more of their father. Darker hair, more olive skin. Still, the similarities are there. They have the same green eyes.
“You came today,” she says.
