Page 65 of Fake

My jaw drops and I stare. Who is she to think she knows anything about my parents, let alone compare Nathan to my father? I had the grace to stop myself from hitting her where it hurts. She can’t do the same for me?

“That’s a low blow, Fallon.”

“If that’s what I have to do to make you hear me…”

I pull open a drawer and retrieve my brush. “I need to look gala ready in a couple hours and you swore you’d help. This isn’t helping.”

“Right. Silly me, trying to protect you.” Fallon crosses her arms over her chest. “You know I only brought this up because I love you and don’t want to see you hurt.”

“I know.”

There’s so much more I want to say, excuses to make, questions to ask. I know what I see when I meet Nathan’s eyes, and it isn’t a power-hungry asshole using me for personal gain. He’s genuine. I know it.

But I won’t convince Fallon of that. Not tonight. And I’ll be fidgety enough this evening without being in a fight with the only real support system I have.

I hold my brush out like a peace offering. “Will you please help me with my hair?”

Relief softens her posture. “Will you please think about what I’ve said tonight?”

I press my lips together and lift the brush again. “As long as you promise to think about what I’ve said.”

The next several hours pass quietly, the two of us lost in thought as I transform from boring and basic Mina Blake into a woman I barely recognize. A woman wearing a spectacular dress, with Harlow West’s diamonds dripping from her ears and sparkling at her wrist. They dazzle me when they catch the light.

The silk is so thin and fits so perfectly to my body, that even a thong showed through, transforming the classic lines of the dress into something slutty. After trying too many undergarments to count and all of them ruining the effect, I finally opt to go commando, then slide on a pair of strappy heels, and stand in front of the mirror.

Dear God. Pinch me because I must be dreaming. Yours ever so truly, Mina Blake.

“Are you sure it’s not too…” I ask, twisting to look at my butt.

“Oh it’s ‘too’ all right.” Fallon laughs gently. “Those stuffy charity people won’t know what hit them.”

TWENTY-FIVE

Mina

Fallon leaves at quarter after two and Nathan arrives an hour later. The gala starts early, with the auction happening first thing, leaving the rest of the night free for the winners to spend with their dates for the evening. With a deep breath, I pull open my door and there he is. The man I can’t stop thinking about. The man Fallon thinks is so evil he would lie about his feelings to get out of paying for a fake relationship. The man she compared to my father.

Low blow followed by lowest blow.

Nathan’s hair is effortlessly swept back to frame his chiseled cheeks and jaw. His eyes are bright, and the steep angle of the setting sun casts half his face in shadow. Fallon would call it symbolic but that’s the writer in her, ascribing meaning to shitty lighting. A tuxedo hugs broad shoulders and a slim waist I want to wrap my legs around. The subtle glint of silver from his cufflinks catches the light and I realize I’m silently staring as seconds tick into minutes.

“Hi.” I lift a hand, then use it to steady myself on the doorframe. I’m suddenly unbalanced. Everything I thought was real and true in the world has come undone.

How can The Prince of Darkness look at me like I’m a goddess?

How can Fallon think she knows him when she’s never even spoken to him?

How can I be this awkward with him when I know how his tongue feels pressed against me? The way his hair feels fisted in my fingers? The way I wanted to scream his name and ride his face and now we’re just standing here and?—

“Hi.” Nathan’s smile is inscrutable as always. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” I grab my clutch off the table near the door then step outside to lock up, fully aware of Nathan standing behind me, his body so close to mine. This thin line of expectation…

Of possibility…

“I thought I imagined the way you look in that dress,” he says, drawing his fingers across my bare shoulder. “That I’d built it into something magnificent to excuse the way I behaved in the dressing room.”

I slowly turn to face him, my breath racing, and press myself against the door to give us more space. “And?”

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