by Katy Regnery
Because she’s glancing down as she makes her way to me, I have a second to check her out, and as promised, she’s stunning.
About five feet six inches tall in black, slingback heels, wearing tight, tapered jeans and a white blouse, she is as chic and classy in person as she was in her picture. Gold bracelets on her wrist and a gold-chain belt slung low on her hips catch the firelight as she approaches and give her a goddess-like aura. Her hair is loose and wild and, no doubt as an homage to her photo, she has a pair of white sunglasses perched on top of her head.
I hold my breath, still turning around slowly to greet her, eager to see her face because I know it’s going to match the rest of her. I know she’s going to be beautiful and rich, the sort of woman any man alive would want to—
She looks up.
W-w-wait.
My mouth drops.
Holy shit.
Her footsteps slow down.
No. No, no, no.
Her neck tilts to the side as she focuses on my face.
Fuck. No.
I blink at her, because...because...
“Faye?”
She stops about two feet away from me, frozen in her tracks, her eyes locked on mine and her lips parted in surprise. Her eyes widen, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion, then straightening out as understanding dawns.
“Trevor?” she whispers, her eyes darting to the flower in my hand. “Are you...Mr. Fairbanks?”
My eyes narrow. The rose drops from my fingers, landing on the marble with a soft thud.
“You’re Faith Crawford?” I practically spit.
Betrayal is a potent feeling in my current wheelhouse, and my brain is trying to decide if it applies here.
“C-Crawford is my...” The stricken look on her face mirrors the turmoil within me. “W-was my mother’s maiden name. It’s my middle name.”
“And Faith?”
“Derivative of Faye.”
I nod once, feeling foolish that I hadn’t put the two names together before now, but damn it, not once did I think Faye was Faith or vice versa. I never suspected. Never even wondered. This whole time, they have subsisted in separate universes. Except now—right now—those universes are horrifically, preposterously colliding.
“What are you doing here? Why are you here?” I demand, knowing the answer to these questions but desperately seeking more information.
“Why are you?” she fires back.
“I’m here to meet Faith Crawford.”
“Well, I’m here to meet Mr. Fairbanks.”
“But why?” I yell. “Why would you answer the ad of—of some random man looking for sex?”
“Why do you think? Because I was looking for sex, obviously.”
“You would do that? You would...you would give your virginity to some—some stranger that you didn’t even—”
“Shut up!” she hisses as the front desk attendant clears her throat in our direction.
“Don’t you have any self-respect?”
She gasps, the surprise on her face quickly segueing to anger. “Are you kidding me?”
“No,” I say, straight-faced and utterly confused. “I’m not. I’m not fucking kidding.”
“Hypocrite,” she snarls. “You placed that ad, looking for an anonymous sex partner!”
“I’m not a virgin!”
“Watch it, Trevor,” I warn him. “You have no right to judge me!”
“I’m not judging you,” I say, taking a deep breath and trying to calm myself down. “I’m just...surprised.”
“Stop acting like a prissy schoolmarm from the last century. We’re both adults.”
“But I...” I’m about to say, “I thought you were better than this,” but I stop myself in time. There are some comments you can come back from. I’m not sure that would be one of them. Again, I mumble, “I’m just...surprised.”
“Talk about a double standard,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest, which has the effect of drawing my eyes to her breasts, which are plump and full under a flimsy white top.
I step back and look at her again—at her heels and designer jeans, the gold accents in her outfit and the way her breasts almost spill out of the V in her shirt. Not to mention her wild hair and sexy makeup. She looks hot as hell, and yet I can’t seem to tamp down the overwhelming need to grab my overcoat from the closet by the front entrance and throw it over her.
“Why are you dressed like this?” I ask.
“Like the picture of Faith Crawford?” she asks. “So you’d recognize me, of course.”
“Was that picture even of you?”
Her jaw drops. “Of course it was. No one’s trying to put one over on you, Trevor!”
“Where was it taken?”
“Off the coast of Nantucket, sailing with my sister, whose clothes I was wearing in the photo.”
“Well, it’s not what you normally look like,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest to mirror her.
“Not that you minded...before you realized it was me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I saw your face, T. I saw your eyes. You liked what you saw when I walked into this room.”
She’s right. I did. And part of me feels bad about that...feels guilty.
“I’m—I was confused!” I yell. “I’m still confused! Hell! Are you wild and free Faith Crawford or uptight virgin Faye Findley?”
She gasps, recoiling from me. “You’re a bastard.”
“No, baby. I’m just playing catchup.”
“Don’t call me ‘baby,’” she hisses, blinking her eyes furiously as she shakes her head. “And don’t lie—you’re pissed off at me because I wanted the exact same thing you did: easy, meaningless sex with someone over New Year’s weekend, so I wouldn’t feel so goddamned lonely over the worst holiday of the year.”
I lift my chin. “It didn’t feel like the worst this morning. It felt pretty awesome.”
“And it doesn’t now?” she asks me, her eyes glassy. “I’m still...me, Trevor.” She looks over her shoulder at the hotel entrance, then takes off her sunglasses and pushes a hand through her hair. “You know what? I need some air.”
“You’re in Alaska,” I say, gesturing toward the door. “There’s plenty!”
She turns around and starts walking away from me, her sexy shoes clacking over the shiny black marble as she heads to the French doors that lead outside. I watch her go, taking in her long legs, rounded ass, and trim waist in tight denim. Her dark hair, with red highlights caught by the fire’s glow, tumbles down her back in messy waves that I’m dying to touch. I want to twist my hand in that hair, winding it around my hand as I thrust into her, making her moan and whimper.
For a second, I feel bad that I’m lusting after her, but then remind myself that she is, in fact, the same woman I’ve been falling for over the last few days. I’m not betraying Faye by desiring Faith.
They’re the same person, you jackass. Innocent and sexy. Fun and smart. Ambitious and adorable.
The doors open automatically, and she whooshes through them without looking back. Suddenly, I’m left alone in the posh, modern lobby, wishing she’d come back, longing to get to know this other side of Faye. I glance at the desk attendant who side-eyes me, shaking her head in disdain.
I’m going to go after her. I just need a second to think. I need to understand this.
Honestly, I should be happy, right? Out of the slew of women who answered the ad, I chose Faith Cra—Faye Findley. She was my one percent. And as I piece it all together, it makes sense:
Her polite, business-like tone and perfect English appealed to me...and still do.
The woman in the picture I received is beautiful...and I think whether Faye comes to dinner in a demure sweater dress or shows up in the lobby of a hotel in tight jeans and a low-cut blouse, she’s crazy beautiful.
I wanted to have amazing sex with a willing partner over New Year’s, and God knows I still do, but now I have feelings for that woman too.
Even better.
I may have fallen for Faith Crawford virtually, but I fell for Faye Findley in person, and in a shocking twist, it turns out I can actually have both.
So why am I acting like a total asshole?
Crushing the rose I dropped on the floor as I hurry to the front door, I step quickly through it, looking left and right for any sign of Faye.
“Fuck,” I mutter, turning to the doorman, who’s dressed in a heavy overcoat. “The woman who just came out...where did she go?”
“That way,” he says, gesturing to a lighted path to the left of the building.
As I round the corner of the building, I see Faye standing in the moonlight. No coat. Arms crossed over her chest. She’s staring at the white-covered mountains in the distance with her back to me, and my heart fists because she looks so fucking beautiful, and I’ve yelled at her and made her feel bad for no good reason.
“Faye,” I call to her.
She twists at the waist to face me, but as she does, something happens to her balance. I watch in horror as her arms spring outward to steady her, but she’s too late. She’s already slipping, her high heels trying to find traction but unable, and she falls onto the icy snow with a strangled cry.
“Faye!”
I race to her side, kneeling beside her in the snow.
“My foot! Oh, my God, Trevor. My foot. I heard it crack!”
She’s lying on her side, panting and sobbing, and my eyes trail quickly down her leg. Her feet don’t look injured, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t.
“H-help,” she whimpers, trying to sit up, but her hands are bare, and her clothes are getting soaked in the snow.
“Stop moving,” I tell her. “Let me get your shoe off and look at it, okay?”
“Trevor,” she sobs. “Help.”
“I will, sweetheart.”
I reach for the strap on her shoe, intending to unbuckle it, but she wails in pain, wildly grabbing at my arm.
“Noooo! Stop! P-Please stop. Don’t t-touch it.”
“If you heard it crack, I think it’s broken,” I tell her, looking at her face, which is screwed up in pain, with tears glistening on her cheek, streaking her dark eye makeup. I reach forward and use my thumbs to swipe her cheeks dry.
“M-Me too,” she pants.
“I need to get you to the hospital. If I pick you up, can you loop your arms around my neck?”
“I...think so.”
“It’s going to hurt,” I tell her, “when I pick you up. But I’ve got to get you into my car.”
“I can handle it,” she says, clenching her jaw.
Sliding my arms under her knees and behind her back, I left her as gently as I can, ignoring her cry of pain as her ankle lifts off the ground and swings awkwardly as I gather her into my arms.
She wraps her arms around my neck but keeps her own neck stiff as I walk slowly back down the path to the front door. The doorman sees us coming and rushes forward.
“Bring my car around! She’s hurt!”
“Should I call an ambulance?”
“It’ll be faster if I drive her. Get my car. Now!”
As he hustles toward a garage to the right of the main building, I readjust my arms around Faith, holding her closer. “Are you cold?”
“It hurts like crazy,” she says. “Too much to notice anything else.”
She’s stopped crying now and her face is stoic, though she certainly has the right to be sobbing in pain. “I’m sorry, Faye. For before.”
“Trevor, I can’t...” She takes a deep breath. “I can’t focus on that right now.”
“Sorry. I understand,” I tell her, relieved when the doorman arrives with my car. He opens the back door, and as gently as possible, I slide Faye into the back seat.
“Your coat, sir?” he asks. “Her things?”
“I’ll come back,” I tell him. “Thanks for your help.”
I jump in the driver’s seat, and drive, as quickly as I can, to get help for Faye.
Chapter 10
Trevor
I arrive at the hospital twenty minutes later, screech to a halt in front of the emergency room doors, and tell Faye to hold tight for a second while I get help.
Striding through the electronic doors, I approach the receptionist. I’m not going to let them make Faye wait. She’s getting in right away, even if I need to play up her injuries a little to get her immediate care.
“I have an injured woman in my car.”
She jumps up from her desk, looking over my shoulder. “What happened?”
“Broken bones. Hurry!”
Now, I know as well as any other Alaskan that broken bones can mean a bear attack, a bar fight, or a slip on some ice, but I let her think the worst and watch as she picks up her phone, dials three numbers, and orders a gurney to the ER entrance.
Satisfied that Faye will be met with expedited service, I race back outside to stay with her until the orderlies arrive.
When I open the backdoor of my car, she’s sitting up.
“Someone’s coming,” I tell her.
“It hurts like hell.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
“Sure you are.” She purses her lips and looks away from me.
“Of course I am, Faye! I care about you.”
“Oh really? You care about a slut wannabe with no self-respect who somehow tricked you into meeting her? Give me a break. I know exactly how you feel about me.”
“Whoa. You’re...pissed.”
“Does that surprise you?” Her eyes snap back to grab mine. “You were a total asshole to me back there, T.”
“I was...shocked. It never occurred to me that you and Faith were the same person.”
“Well, it never occurred to me that you and Mr. Fairbanks were the same person.”
“I’ve had a tough year where betrayal is concerned. I think I went into some sort of self-protection mode.” I run a hand through my hair. “I was caught off guard, Faye. I just needed to get my head around it, and once I did, I came outside to find you.”
I still want to ask her why she’d arrange to sleep with a man—give her virginity to man—she didn’t even know, but I have a strong feeling that would add gasoline to this fire.
As she processes my words, her face starts to soften, but suddenly, the ER doors open, and two men run outside with a gurney, placing it beside my car.
“Back away, please, sir. We’ll handle it from here.”
I watch as they help her out of the back seat of my car and onto the gurney, wheeling her quickly into the hospital. I follow behind, but a nurse stops me as they take Faye back to the examination area.
“I’m sorry, sir. You can’t just...”
Her hand is flat on my chest, but I haven’t glanced at her face because I’m too busy watching Faye. Finally, I look down at her and...
Holy shit.
Marlena.
“Trevor,” she whispers, yanking her hand away.
“Marlena,” I say softly, looking into her blue eyes for the first time since June. I take a deep breath, looking over her head to see Faye wheeled into a curtained-off area, then back at my ex-fiancée. “I need to go with her.”
Marlena shifts her body so she’s standing in front of me, blocking my way.
“Um...I’m sorry, Trevor...you can’t come back here without permission.”
“I brought her here.”
“That’s great,” she says, “because she obviously needs help. She also needs to give her permission for you to stay with her while she receives treatment.”
“Please go ask her for permission.”
“There’s a form you need to—fine. I’ll ask.”
She turns on her heel and walks swiftly to the area where Faye is concealed, speaking with someone behind the curtain for a moment before returning to me.
“She says...” Marlena sighs loudly, looking away from me.
“What?”
“She says you’re welcome to join her if you’re f
inished acting like a horse’s ass.”
I can’t help it. I whoop with laughter. Loudly. Even...joyfully.
“Tell her I’m finished.”
“Oh...just go,” she says, gesturing to the trauma bay, where a doctor in a white coat pulls the curtain aside.
My eyes skim back to Marlena, who’s still standing in front of me in peach-colored scrubs, and for the first time, I realize that her belly is sticking out a little. I stare at it for a second before sliding my eyes to her face. Somehow, the face that I once thought was my “forever” doesn’t hold the same promise or allure. She’s just a pretty girl who’s going to have a baby.
“Congratulations.”
Her cheeks color, and she licks her lips before looking at her white sneakers. “Trev, we never meant—”
“—to hurt me. I know.” I glance over to the curtained area where the doctor is still consulting and then back at the mother of my niece. “The reality is that we weren’t a good match. I didn’t know it at the time, but we...weren’t.”
“I know,” she says, her face surprised, then soft. “I knew it for a long time.”
“You could have told me.”
“Could I?” she asks.
I blink at her, then shake my head. “Maybe not. I don’t know.”
“You’re...Trevor. The oldest. The most ambitious. The go-getter. I wasn’t...I mean, I didn’t...”
I clear my throat. “We weren’t right for each other. That’s all there is to it.”
She searches my face like she wants to say something else, but I don’t want to talk to Marlena anymore. I want to see if Faye’s okay. As I start to walk away, however, my ex-fiancée grabs my sleeve. I turn around to find her looking at me intently.
“Forgive Cecil,” she says. “Please forgive him. He can’t—he can’t live without you, Trevor.”
Gently, I pull my arm away, tilting my head to the side. “Probably should have thought of that before he fu—ahem, before you two got together.”
She nods once, then takes a deep breath, blinking her eyes. “You have no idea how much he misses you, how much he loves you.”
I shrug my shoulders.
“Please, Trevor,” she begs me. “For Aurora.”
My eyes skim down to her belly again, and I process her request. Aurora. Aurora is a person growing inside of Marlena. My niece. My family. She could be born with my eyes or my mother’s smile or my father’s weird way of laughing. She’s part of my family, this Aurora, even though she isn’t even here yet.