Page 185 of The Faking Game

I take a deep breath and answer the phone. Mom’s frantic voice is on the other end. “Finally,” she says. “I was getting so worried.”

“There was no need to worry,” I tell her, my gaze on West. “I texted you just twenty minutes ago that I was perfectly fine.”

“Yes, but Rafe told me that he was handling the man who hired those guys to intimidate you, maybe tonight? And you might be there too?”

There are birds chirping in the background. It’s no surprise she’s already awake. She’s in her new phase of getting up really early and going for long walks. I wonder how long it’ll last.

“He isn’t going to show,” I say. “Even if he did, I’m surrounded by security. Rafe shouldn’t’ve… I’m fine, Mom. I’m fine.”

She sighs on the other end. It’s one of those resigned, dramatic sighs I’ve heard my entire life. It means I’ve done something wrong. It means she’s about to lay her emotions on me.

It’s my job to fix them. My job is to please her.

“I feel like we never talk anymore, Nora. We used to talk almost daily, and now…” Another sigh. Shorter this time. “With you being off in America… how long will you be there? I didn’t even know about tonight until my son told me.”

“At least until the Fashion Showcase,” I say, and meet West’s whiskey eyes.

“I liked it so much when you were in Paris. London was okay too, but?—”

“Mom,” I say, exhaling. “We have a six-hour time difference. It’s not huge.”

“It’s significant,” she says. “I can feel it, physically feel how far you are from me.” She sighs again. “I’m out here on my walk, and I thought it would be nice to talk to my daughter. Is that so wrong?”

West’s hand finds my waist again. His face is uncompromising. “You have a life,” he mouths.

I keep my voice light. “It’s lovely that you want to talk to me, Mom, but I can’t always chat when it suits you. As I said in my text, I’m not available right now.”

“I know,” she says, “but I figured I’d keep trying anyway.”

In front of me, West’s face tightens. Of course he can hear. My mom speaks loudly.

“Boundaries,” he says. And this time, he’s not bothering to keep his voice low.

She’s going to get upset.

But maybe that’s not the end of the world.

Maybe I can live with being uncomfortable for a moment if it grants me long-term peace.

“Calling me eight times in a row doesn’t increase the chance that I’ll pick up. If it’s an emergency, that’s different. But this wasn’t an emergency,” I say.

“Nora.” She imbues my name with enough censure that it would have caused me to reverse course years ago. Like I’m twelve again, telling her about the movie I want to watch. The sport I want to try. The girl being mean to me at school.Nora,she’d say, and I’d know it was time to stop talking.

West is steady, and I lean into his touch like I can steal some of that confidence. “I mean it. I won’t be able to talk all the time, and that’s okay. I still love you. We’re still close. I’m at a party that I really want to go back to. Enjoy your walk, okay? Next time I’ll call you.”

There’s the briefest of pauses on the other end. No sigh this time. Just my mother’s brisk voice. “Noted. Have fun.”

“You too.”

I hang up. The silence is deafening, broken only by my quick exhale. “Oh my god.”

“You did so well.” West leans in closer, brushing his lips at my temple like he’s been dying to for the past hour. “How did that feel?”

“Not as hard as I thought it would. Terrifying. Exhilarating.” It’s such a small thing in the grand scheme. I’ve modeled in lingerie, walked catwalks, presented my designs to my peers at fashion school. And yet, this cuts me to the core.

“Standing up to your family is going to change everything for you.” His lips move down to my cheek. Hot, quick kisses that tell me just how proud he is of me for it.

I grip his lapels, and surprised laughter bubbles out of me. “I don’t think I’ve ever said no to her like that before.”

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