Fake, page 17
I pivot to meet her eyes, stomach dropping. Whatever she has to say isn’t a ‘through the mirror’ conversation. “Why do you have your bad news face on?”
Fallon looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Because this whole thing is bad news, Meens. Nathan said he doesn’t want to ‘pay you to date him.’” She makes air quotes and sneers as she drops her voice in a shitty imitation. “Does that mean you’re going back to your initial contract, with your original fee? Or are you still getting the extra money you negotiated to fake this relationship with him?”
I gape at my friend, trying to imagine how that conversation would go.
So, uh…I’m happy to date you but are you still gonna pay me for it, or what?
“How am I supposed to ask him something like that?”
“How can you not?” Fallon widens her eyes and scoffs. “You need that money! You’ve filled your design schedule with so many new clients I’m surprised you don’t sleep in your office. Even with that, you’re still considering a second job to pay for your mother’s medical expenses while he’s spending a small fortune on a dress you’ll never wear again. Not to mention, crossing sexual boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed if your relationship still has a predetermined end date.”
“You just went on a tirade about how amazing he was for what he did in the dressing room. Now it’s crossing a boundary?”
Her jaw drops and she huffs a harsh laugh. I’ve never seen her look so disappointed in me and I can’t for the life of me understand why.
“If you heard me call him amazing, you missed the point entirely.” Fallon stands and paces to a window, sneering at my dress before she crosses the room to kneel at my feet. “Men don’t act that way. Think, Meens. How many times has a guy done anything regarding sex if there wasn’t something in it for him?”
I arch a brow, inviting her to clarify her point. “Never for me, which is why I assumed the point of your tirade was to illustrate how awesome Nathan is.”
Fallon’s face falls. “Did it ever occur to you that he’s trying to make this relationship seem real so he can get out of paying you, only to break things off after he has what he needs?”
Now I’m the one huffing in disapproval. “Nathan isn’t like that.”
“Are you sure?”
“Without a doubt.”
Fallon stands and runs her hands into her hair. “If he isn’t like that, then why did I say from the very beginning that you needed a protection plan in place? That Nathan West wouldn’t have your best interest at heart? Why did I want to write an article to use as leverage in case we ended up in a situation just like this one?”
“I didn’t agree with you then, and I don’t agree with you now. Nathan’s not that guy. In fact, you need to stop calling him a villain in your articles. Actually, you need to stop with your whole ‘make him realize how much he’s changed’ experiment. I get that you think you’re helping him, but it’s not working the way you want it to, and half the stuff you publish isn’t true in the first place.”
No matter how much Fallon wants it to be. As long as Nathan’s a womanizing villain, she has something to write about. The moment that’s not true, she’s the villain, profiting off lies. I almost say as much, but I’m not sure she’s thought that deeply about it and she sure isn’t prepared to think about it now.
“You need to talk to him.” Fallon drops back onto my bed, her eyes pleading with me to pay attention while she completely disregards my point. “And you need to do it with your bullshit detector on, so you catch any shady shit he’s throwing your way. Or hell, maybe I need to talk to him as an objective third party.”
“For one, you’re not objective and for two, he doesn’t know we’re friends.” I hang my head, feeling like an asshole. I keep meaning to tell him, but there’s enough going on between us without trying to broach the ‘My Best Friend Is Your Archenemy’ conversation.
Fallon’s entire body recoils as she objects to my objections. “And that matters, why?”
“Because your articles piss him off and I should have told him I know you a long time ago but haven’t found a good time yet. And, while I’m on the topic, please, please hear me and stop calling him a villain.”
If I’m not gonna be brave enough to tell him I’m friends with the blogger he calls a vulture, the least I can do is make sure she stops publishing lies.
“I’m glad I’m pissing him off! That’s the whole point!” Fallon shakes her head. “And the fact that you don’t feel like you can tell him about me, or your overfilled schedule, or your need for a second job, or ask a simple question about finances, that should tell you something. You’re in over your head. You’re too kind. Too genuine. You believe everyone operates like you and that just isn’t true.”
“You don’t know Nathan the way I do. You don’t know what happened or what he’s actually doing. He’s not a bad guy.”
“Ask your mom what happens when good people make excuses for bad people.”
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?”
“I didn’t imagine it. You are stunning, Mina Blake. Any man would be lucky to have you on his arm. I’m honored that tonight, it’s me.”
Nathan presses a hand to my lower back and I glance up at him, waiting for the punchline. The hint of evil to vindicate Fallon’s concerns.
All I see is the boyish charm I’ve come to know and love.
He looks completely genuine.
The car waiting in the parking lot isn’t Nathan’s. This one is sleek and black and belongs in movies, not parked outside my apartment. Ms. Markowitz steps outside to stare, as do the Dietzes, and the frat boys a few doors down, all of them whispering excitedly as the driver emerges to open a door for me. This isn’t typical for Lime Tree Bay Apartments. If I wasn’t the one climbing into the car, I’d be staring and whispering too. Nathan tosses me a knowing grin as he lowers himself into the seat beside me.
“I probably should have warned you about the car and driver.” The crook to his smile says he doesn’t mean it.
“Why didn’t you?”
“I wanted to see the look on your face.”
If Fallon could see this version of Nathan, she’d take back everything she said. His eyes shimmer like dew on blades of grass, bright and warm as they hold mine. Gone are the thorns and frozen barbed wire.
“Was it worth it?” I ask.
“Completely,” he responds, threading his fingers with mine as the driver pulls out of the lot.
The car slows to a stop in front of The Hutton Hotel, which, according to Fallon, started as a sprawling colonial style house on the beach with more rooms than family members when Nathan’s mom was a little girl. The extra space disquieted Nathan’s grandmother—Rebecca Hutton—a woman with a heart big enough to love the whole world and the brains to know a business opportunity when she saw one. It didn’t take long for the extra rooms to become a bed and breakfast, and for the bed and breakfast to become a full-blown resort. Last year, the family opened a second hotel in Bliss, South Carolina with Angela and Garrett spearheading the project. Fallon says it’s as charming as the one in front of me and just as successful.
Behind the old house, the ocean stretches out until it kisses the horizon. Several tents have been set up on the beach, with temporary walkways and flooring to accommodate fancy footwear. A string quartet plays quietly, the music dancing in and out of the ocean waves crashing rhythmically against the sand. After the auction, a live band will take their place to allow for dancing. There’s an open bar where servers load trays of appetizers and champagne to float fluidly through the crowd once the guests arrive. There are tiki torches and strings of lights and the view is so striking it doesn’t look real. How does someone like me end up in a place like this, wearing what I’m wearing, on the arm of a man who grew up thinking any of this is normal?
It's elegant and excessive and I don’t want to think about what it costs. Events like this are what placed a giant chip on my shoulder the first day I met Nathan. Growing up poor, I resented those who had money to burn. But this entire evening is dedicated to raising money for a charity that helps little kids dealt a bad hand like me.
Maybe I was wrong to judge. To assume. To lump people into groups and categories without taking the human factor into account. None of us fit neatly into boxes.
Nathan and I make our way toward the bar and are instantly enveloped in a herd of Huttons. A man I don’t recognize hangs back, arms crossed, glaring at me like I’m an unwelcome addition to the group. He’s as tall as any of the men in Nathan’s family but lacks the feeling of warmth I’ve come to expect from the Mason’s and Angela’s…hell even Nathan himself. If ever there was a Prince of Darkness, it’s this guy.
“I thought I said you’d be better not to come at all than to show up with a dazzling and spectacular woman on your arm,” an older woman says to Nathan. She sounds stern but looks friendly and is downright stunning. Her blonde hair is swept up and back, with tendrils framing her face. She’s wearing black pants with wide legs, a fitted blazer, and sky-high heels.
Having those two words aimed at me sends my heartrate into overdrive. I grip Nathan’s arm, smiling weakly as I decide if I’m supposed to respond.
“Breathe, HM.” He presses a kiss into the top of my head, inhaling deeply. “Aunt Maisie is simply confirming what we already know. That dress looks amazing on you.”
The gesture is so sweet, so familiar, so easy, I do exactly what he said and breathe a sigh of relief.
“You need stronger adjectives, son. ‘Amazing’ doesn’t begin to describe what’s happening here.” Nathan’s mom gestures between us and I get the distinct impression she’s not talking about the dress. That maybe, just maybe, she’s talking about us.
Nathan presses his palm against my lower back, his thumb brushing lightly against my spine. I lean closer, smiling despite myself.
“Is this her? The one who’s bringing our dear, sweet Nathan back to life?” A young woman with a mess of dark curls, a shit-eating grin, and a short black dress with fabulous red heels appears at my side. She’s several inches smaller than everyone else with a personality that towers above us all.
“Mina, this is Garrett’s little sister Charlie, down from New England,” Angela says. “Charlie, this is Mina the miracle worker.”
Charlie waves over a passing server to grab a champagne flute. “Angela told me you’re putting yourself up for auction. Believe me, you’re not going to regret it. I did it last year and it was an absolute blast. It’s the whole reason I flew down again this year.”
“We all know the real reason you flew down is still deployed right now.” Garrett smirks at his sister. “There was a real chance Nick would be home in time to be here. You rolled the dice and now you’re here and he’s not.”
“Hey!” Charlie drops her jaw and slaps his arm. “Do I like flirting with a hot Marine? Yes! Who wouldn’t? But do you really think I’d spend this much on a dress and fly to Florida simply to flirt with Nick Hutton? Sheesh. Big brothers. Am I right?” She gives me an exasperated eye roll before continuing. “I’ll tell you, growing up in a small town, with a single dad doing his best and failing, I never ever saw this in my future. But Garrett made all this money and one thing led to another and here I am, reaping the rewards of his success.”
“Reversals of fortune.” Maisie Hutton smiles gently. “It’s why I named the foundation what I did. Younger me would never have believed this could be my life. I didn’t have it easy growing up and through a combination of hard work and good luck, I’m here. I want to do everything I can to pay it forward.”
This is so not the way I’ve pictured people with money. This entire family is trying to sprinkle some of their good luck onto the world. If only I could catch some of it for myself, I’d use it on Mom in a heartbeat.
“I’ve thought the same thing so many times since I met Nathan,” I say. “Younger me wouldn’t believe this is my life. I wish I could share some of it with Mom.”
“Have you given any thought to letting us spoil her here at The Hut?” Angela asks. “And before you tell me you can’t afford it, we’ll give her the friends and family discount. The whole package, totally on the house.”
And there’s the rub. This relationship, this…whatever it is…with Nathan is too new for me to profit off his wealth. I’m not going to be someone else who takes from him, or his family. “I can’t let you do that.”
“Would she qualify for Nathan’s new adult program at ROF?” Garrett asks. “Forgive me for making assumptions about your mother’s situation, but if she’s unemployed due to long-term illness and drowning in medical bills, she sounds exactly like the type of person he’s trying to help. And since you kind of have an in…”
“Oh, no, no,” I say as the tall man I haven’t been introduced to yet shoots Nathan a disgusted glance. “Mom and I are gonna be okay.”
I just have to work a little harder for a little longer to get us there.
Nathan breaks eye contact with the stranger and meets my gaze, thoughts ticking across his face.
Who is that guy? What’s he doing here? Why do I get the distinct impression he doesn’t like me?
The group chatters, tossing banter around like confetti while I hang on Nathan’s arm. I’d hoped we’d have time to talk about us, maybe figure out who we are to each other, but that seems more and more like a pipedream. Though the night is young, the company is fabulous, and the view is straight out of a movie. Maybe I should worry less about putting pressure on the evening and let myself enjoy this once in my lifetime experience.
