Page 71 of White Lies

“Yes.”

“For you.”

He hands me a big box, and my stomach flutters because I know this is from Nick. “Thank you.” I sign for it and carry it to the kitchen, where I set it on the counter. Feeling ridiculously nervous, considering it’s a package, I cut away the tape and paper and find a beautiful silver box inside. I open it to find a card on top with neat, masculine script that reads:Faith.

I open the card.

I was going to send this earlier in the week, but I decided that if it pisses you off, I’ll see you in a few hours to fight that battle in person. But know this. I’m happy to rip this version up, too, as long as it’s on you at the time. And I owed you a pair of panties anyway.

I actually hope you want me to rip it off you again.

All of it.

Looking forward to it and you,

Nick

I set the card aside and pull back the paper to first find gorgeous royal blue lace panties that I donotwant him to rip. They’re too beautiful. Beneath them is a dress. I pull it from the box, and while it’s not an exact replica of the one that was destroyed, it’s close. I inhale and let it out. I wait for that feeling of being bought, but even with this and Nick flying me to San Francisco, I don’t feel that. Maybe because he’s done these things just because. Not to make up for something. And the dress. He turned it into something we shared and will share again. He made it special.

I gather everything up and walk into the bedroom. And right before I pack the panties, I take a picture of them and, laughing, text it to Nick with the words:New challenge. And I love the dress. Thank you, Nick.

He calls me. “You’re not mad.”

“No. Because you made it…about us.”

“There’s a lot of us going on this weekend, sweetheart. The plane is waiting on you. Hurry the hell up. The pilot is going to call me when you take off.”

“I’m leaving here in fifteen minutes.”

“See you soon, Faith Winter.”

There is a deep, raspy quality to his voice that I feel from head to toe. “See you soon, Nick Rogers.”

He ends the call.

With a grin on my face, I finish packing. I’m about to leave when I open the nightstand by my bed and find the card from my father. I still haven’t read it. I stare at the script, and I shake myself before stuffing it in my purse. I need to read it, and I might just need that spanking I mentioned. I don’t know that I want to be under Nick’s hand to forget something this weekend, though. I think I’d rather be there just because. Still, I decide to leave the card in my purse.

My cellphone rings, and I remove it from the spot under that card, and the minute I see Josh’s number, my heart starts to race. With a shaky hand, I punch the answer button. “Josh?”

“You’re in, baby! You made the show.”

“What? No. Yes. No?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes. You’re in. I’m walking into a meeting, but I’ll send you details. They love you. They say you are the next ‘it’ artist. So, drink some wine and start fucking selling it. I have to go. Congrats, baby.”

He hangs up, and I dial Nick. “You can’t be at the airport yet.”

“I got in the show. I got in.”

“The L.A. show?”

“The L.A. show. I got in.”

“Then why the hell are you not here already so we can celebrate? Get your sweet, spankable ass to the airport.”

“I’m leaving now.”

“Faith.”

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