Page 51 of Things We Fake
“Do you speak fluently?”
“A few phrases. Probably just enough to order a bottle of wine and get lost on the Metro.” I grinned. “You?”
“A little. Not enough to survive, but I’d love to see Paris someday. God,” she whispered, cutting herself off as something caught her eye. “Look at that furry thing that woman has in her bag.”
“That’s a live dog, Susanne.”
She squinted harder at the pocket sized creature. “No, it’s not.”
I burst out laughing, my head tipping back. “Remind me not to buy you a Chinese Crested for your birthday.”
I picked up a blue fedora with a silver ribbon. I set it gently on her head, then adjusted it carefully.
“Un chapeau pour mademoiselle.”
She chuckled. “Is it symmetrical, Mr. OCPD?”
“Perfectly.” It actually was. Something about the angle softened her face, made her look timelessly elegant.
“It’s almost the same color as the dress you wore last night.” I leaned in. “The one I plan to peel off you one of these days.”
I don’t know why I said it. Maybe because the air between us had been crackling all morning. Maybe because it was true and I wanted her to know it. I wanted to seeher reaction.
She didn’t answer, but her eyes met mine in the mirror. They were surprised, but I didn’t see rejection there. A tinge of shyness. A bit of intrigue. And something else I couldn’t decipher yet.
A polite cough snapped us out of the moment. A salesclerk hovered nearby, ready to pounce.
“Madam has excellent taste,” she said. “The hat suits you beautifully.”
Sue offered the woman a smile. “I’ll take it.”
I saw her gaze drop to the label and do a double take. It was Gucci, probably more than her monthly rent. I never intended to let her pay for it.
Before she could argue, I slid my card into the clerk’s hand. “I picked it out, I’m paying for it.”
Sue opened her mouth, but I squeezed her hand and bent to whisper in her ear. “Play along,dahling. It’s only natural for a man to buy a gift for his fiancée.”
“Unlike your fiancée, the money is real,” she muttered.
“And I want to buy this for you. Can you be a good little woman and just shut up?”
Heat flashed in her eyes, and she flipped me off discretely. It made my face split into a grin.
Ten minutes later, we were on the subway, hatbox in her lap.
“You really didn’t have to do that.” She traced the lettering with her index finger. “No one will know you bought it. Britt’s not watching us now. So what’s the point?”
I took her hand, brought it to my lips, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. Her skin was soft, her scent clean and subtle.
“Because it looked beautiful on you. And because I wanted to.”
She smiled—genuinely, fully, a little shyly. And it hit me like a sucker punch. There was nothing fake in her smile.
A couple of hours later we climbed the stairs, overloaded with grocery bags, a pizza box, and Sue’s new hat. I couldn’t wait for my car to arrive next week, so shopping would be easier. At some point back in the store she’d offered to cook me dinner now and again. I had agreed happily, but only if I could pay for the groceries. And then we’d bought half of the store.
I hauled the heaviest bags into Susanne’s kitchen and set them on the counter.
“I’ll put the hat away and warm up the pizza,” she said. “Grab us a couple of beers from the fridge.”
