Page 5 of The Faking Game
And after he fucked me over, there’s no love lost between me and my ancestor. He was the one who established the trust for Fairhaven Estate on Long Island, the place I call home.I can inherit the business, but the house? Only if I’m married by the time I turn thirty. Which is at the end of the summer.
Time is running out, and now Nora is my problem too. My frustrating, too-pretty and decidedly unsafe problem.
I listen to what my financial officer is saying but only hear half of the words.
After thanking Allison for the financial brief, I head to the elevators. A glance at my watch shows that I’m cutting it close to my next meeting, and I hate being late.
There’s a text from Rafe.
RAFE
How’s the first full day been?
I hesitate only a second before I type back a response.
WEST
Fine. Everything’s under control.
He doesn’t need to know that the very first night with her under my protection was a failure. Nora’s eyes flashed defiance on the sidewalk, and it sparked my own irritation. But then there was a tremble in her voice when she insisted she could take care of herself.
I’ve always had that sense with her, that there’s one side she shows to others and another she keeps leashed tightly.
Raphaël texts again.
Rafe
Thanks. I owe you one.
That makes my teeth grind. He really,reallydoesn’t. Not when he let my own sister use his Paris apartment last summer. Not when he kept me sane through boarding school. Not when he’s just asking for a favor in return. And what’s a favor between brothers?
We’re family, after all. In every way but blood.
Which means that Nora should be like my little sister.
The meeting drags on. Numbers and projections for the different holdings, all packaged together with clear recommendations for the upcoming quarters. We break in the late afternoon, and I see two missed calls from my head of security.
Shit. I’m instantly on high alert. Her eyes flash in front of me again, and I hear that wobble in her voice. If someone has frightened her…
I excuse myself and call him back. “Report.”
“The target is fine. But she disappeared for a while,” Arthur says. His tone is short, no-nonsense. “She went for a run in Central Park. We maintained visual contact, but she gave us the slip. It took us fifteen minutes to locate her again. My guys are following her back to her apartment now.”
“What do you mean, gave you the slip?”
“She ran fast, sir. I had two of my more experienced guys following her, but we were unprepared for… quite how fast she ran. I believe it was at least partially intentional. I’ll get some of my faster guys for next time. Won’t happen again.”
“Shit,” I mutter. “And you’re certain you have eyes on her now?”
“Yes, sir. She’s heading back to her apartment building. Should be there in about twenty minutes.”
“Keep me updated.”
I make my excuses to the board members and leave the office. The quickest option is to grab a cab, and I’m soon on my way through traffic to Nora’s.
I haven’t been in a relationship in years. There’s no time. But Nora’s been in New York for less than two days, and I already feel like I’m following someone around. Trying to coordinate two schedules.
The car pulls to a stop outside of her apartment building. Raphaël sent me the details, and I know my team has scoped out the place. But there are a lot of unknown factors. Neighbors. Multiple entries and exits. Views in through her windows.
