Page 41 of White Lies

She doesn’t blush. She looks me in the eye. “You said you didn’t want more.”

“I didn’t, but I have learned in life not to run from the unexpected. And I’m not running from this, and I’m not letting you run from it because of a past that I’m not a part of.”

“The past is a part of me.”

“But I am not,” I say, “and in the foyer, you responded to me like I was.”

She turns her head, obviously struggling with where this is leading, seconds ticking by before she sips her coffee and then sets it on the island, her eyes meeting mine. “You are very assuming, Nick.”

“Agreed,” I say, reaching for her coffee cup. “But only about things that matter to me, and it appears you do.” I turn the cup so that my lips are aligned with the exact spot where hers were moments before, the act telling her we’re connected now, that possessiveness I’ve felt on numerous occasions with Faith back again.

I drink, taking a sip of the chocolatey concoction that would taste better on her lips, against my lips. “I’m beginning to get the idea you have a sweet tooth.”

“I do,” she says. “And yet there is nothing sweet about you, Nick.”

“You might be surprised. If you give me a chance.”

“You aren’t going to bulldoze me.”

“So you told me,” I say, sipping her coffee again, then setting it back in front of her. “And since you seem to need to hear it again, if I could, you wouldn’t be interesting to me.” I soften my voice. “Don’t let pride, or fear of us, get in the way of a solution to a problem you need to solve.”

She picks up the coffee, takes a drink, and then another, and when she sets it back down, I arch a brow at her interest in drinking, which she’s used to calm her nerves. I like that she can be nervous and overcome those nerves. That makes her strong, as proven by her next smart question. “Isn’t sleeping with me and representing me some kind of ethical issue for you?”

“Not so long as the relationship existed prior to me becoming your counsel.”

“Frank is my attorney already. I have him on retainer.”

“Frank’s an estate attorney on the verge of retirement. He is not going to make the bank his bitch. I will.” I soften my voice. “Talk to me, Faith. Let me help, and I promise that help comes with no conditions. Whatever happens with us personally, I’m with you on this until the end.”

“Ihateairing my dirty laundry to you. And it’s not even that I barely know you. It’s that I don’t want this to be how I know you.”

It’s an honest answer. I hear it in the rasp of her voice. I see it in the torment in her eyes. And every honest answer she gives me makes me trust her more. “We all have our dirty laundry, Faith. I told you my father fucked all of my many nannies. I don’t talk about my father. Or the many nannies.”

“You don’t?”

“No, Faith, I don’t.”

“You thought I needed to hear that,” she says, but it’s not a question, and she reaches for the cup again, withdrawing.

“Why did you just try to shut down on me?” I ask.

She sets the cup down, a few beats passing before her eyes lift and meet mine. “I appreciate that you shared that with me.”

“But you withdrew.”

“No. I just… I was taking in the impact of your statement. Taking stock of myself, too, and my reaction to…you, Nick. And I don’t mean to seem unappreciative of your offer to help. I’m sorry. I am embarrassed about this. And youarevery unexpected.”

“I met you while those two assholes were trying to collect from you at the winery. I knew what you were going through when I pursued you.”

“You knew you wanted to get me naked,” she says, giving a humorless laugh. “There’s a difference.”

“I repeat. I’m here. I’m not leaving. I’m helping you. If that makes me a bull, let’s fight about it and get past it.”

“I don’t want to fight with you, too.”

It’s not hard to surmise the “too” means the collectors, but my gut says it’s more; avoiding an emotional trigger right now, I focus us on business. “If you don’t want to replace Frank, I’ll manage Frank. But I need details from you first.”

“Details,” she repeats.

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