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  “She said no.”

  “She said no and I told her I was going to you. That’s when she showed me a video of the two of us together and threatened to take it to my wife. I was out then, but I kept tabs on things, waiting to see if you needed me. And that brings me to where this is headed. I knew when you sued her for the property and I wanted you to win. I would have offered to fund your legal fees, but you hated me and wouldn’t even speak to me, and if your mother found out, I was at risk with my wife.”

  “Why would my father want me to inherit the winery if it put me in danger?”

  “This was ten years ago, Faith. I buried the mercury. The CIA buried the mercury. And you were not going to sell, which means no one who wants the mercury could get it.”

  “I still don’t see where this is going. What is the emergency? Are those men back? Did my mother contact them?”

  “If those men are back on the radar, they’re working smarter this time.”

  My heart starts to race. “What do you know? Just tell me.”

  “I followed the legal case between you and your mother. I know who your attorney was and I know who her attorney was.”

  “And?”

  He sets a folder in front of me. “Look inside.”

  I flip it open and I’m staring at a birth certificate for a Nick Marks. Mother: Melanie Marks. Father: Nathan Marks. The attorney who represented my mother. My heart is now skipping beats. I flip the document to find a court document changing the name of Nick Marks to Nick Rogers.

  I swallow and I almost choke. I can’t catch my breath. I can’t breathe. “I need to go,” I say, but he catches my arm.

  “Easy, honey. Let me help you.”

  “No. No. I—”

  “Listen to me,” he says firmly. “If he’s involved with the mercury hunters, this is bad news. We need to come up with a plan together.”

  “I need to go,” I say, pulling away from him. “I’ll call you. I just…not now.” I all but run for the door, and barely remember the moment I get in the car. Nick’s car. Oh God. My entire life is wrapped around a man conning me. So many things don’t add up, but the bottom line is that Nick is Nathan Mark’s son. He never told me that. I start the engine and I don’t even know where I’m headed. I end up parked in the parking lot of the high rise that is supposed to be our new home.

  I sit there thirty seconds, or maybe thirty minutes. I have no concept of time. My phone rings and I reach for it, my hand shaking as I find Nick calling. I answer it.

  “Hey sweetheart,” he says.

  His voice, rich and masculine and beautiful and deceitful tears holes in my heart. “I know,” I say.

  “What?”

  “Nick Marks. I know who you are.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Nick

  Nick Marks.

  That name is a blade in my heart. The connection to my father that brought me to Faith. It’s also the connection I’ve always known could rip her out of my reach. “Faith, sweetheart—”

  “Don’t speak,” she orders, her voice breathless. “It won’t help you. And it just hurts me.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you. I would never hurt you.”

  “And yet you did.”

  “Where are you? I’ll come to you and explain.”

  “You made me trust again and now you made sure that I will never trust anyone again.”

  Rita and North walk into my office. “Get the fuck out,” I snap.

  Rita’s eyes go wide and North is already tucking tail and running. Rita backs out and shuts the door. “Where are you?”

  “Was it the mercury? Were you after a big payoff? Of course you were. Money loves money.”

  “What mercury? Faith, talk to me.”

  “So you can lie again. And again. And again.”

  “We have to talk. Where are you?”

  “I don’t want to see you, Nick. Not now or ever.”

  “I love you, Faith. I love you so much it hurts.”

  “Liar,” she says, her voice quaking.

  “Faith—”

  “Don’t find me. Don’t call me. And let me be clear. If you show up at my work, at the winery, at my home, I will call the police. Don’t test me. You think you’re a badass, but liars aren’t badasses. They’re just bad people. I left your BMW in the parking lot of your new apartment.”

  She ends the call. I try to call her back and it goes directly to voice mail. “Fuck.” I call again. And again. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” I face the window and press my hand on the glass, my head tilted downwards. “Fuck. I cannot lose her.”

  I straighten and dial Beck. “Mercury. This is about mercury. I don’t know how or any details except that. Connect the fucking dots. I need answers. And hack the autopsy report. I need that now, too.”

  “Faith knows.”

  “Yes, she fucking knows.”

  “Then Bill is behind this. He showed up near her office and I couldn’t get through to you to tell you.”

  “So he told her who I am and that there is mercury on the property.”

  “He made her believe you want the property for the mercury.”

  “Obviously. He turned his intentions into mine and my damn lie allowed it to happen. Where is she now?”

  “She went to Sara and Chris Merit’s apartment.”

  “Of course. The one place I can’t get to her at and she knows it.” I scrub my jaw. “At least she’s safe. Get me answers. I can’t go to her and make my case without answers.”

  “I hack that report daily. It hasn’t been input yet.”

  “You have mercury now. Connect the dots.”

  “If he believed that connected the dots, he wouldn’t have given it to her.”

  “Connect the fucking dots.” I hang up and dial Abel.

  “Hey hoe, what the fuck is up?”

  “I don’t care whose house you have to go to, or what you have to do, but you get me those autopsy reports.”

  “She knows.”

  “Yes. She knows. Get me the reports.” I hang up.

  My phone rings and it’s Chris Merit. “What the hell did you do, man?”

  “It’s not what it seems and I’m not going to explain that to you. All I will say is that I love her. I love her the way you love Sara. I ordered her a ring. I bought an apartment to customize a studio for her.”

  “Well, I’m not an advice kind of guy, and she’s not saying anything other than you betrayed her in an unforgivable way.”

  “I didn’t cheat. I knew who she was before I met her and didn’t tell her. At the time I didn’t plan on fucking her, let alone falling in love with her. And that’s all I’m saying.”

  “Fair enough. What’s your move?”

  “What I want to do is pick her up, tie her to my bed, and make her stay until she listens.”

  “You do that and you had better have a way to justify lying to her because this cuts deep. She’s not good, Nick. You hurt her. You hurt her bad.”

  “I know. And that guts me.”

  “Get your ducks in a row and give her some time to process.”

  “Right. Time. A barbaric form of torture.”

  We end the call and I say “fuck you” to time and waiting. I text Faith: Your uncle set me up. It’s not what it seems. I love you. I want to marry you, Faith. Please talk to me.

  I get an error message. She’s blocked me.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Faith

  The first night without Nick…

  I lay in Chris and Sara’s spare bedroom, staring at the ceiling, an invisible knife carving holes in my heart. I replay the conversation I had with Bill, and the implications. And then I replay the conversation with Nick, how sincere he sounded. God. I’m a fool. And he’s such a good liar. Everything he did felt real. We felt real.

  I have no place to live. I need an apartment and clothes. I have no clothes. I don’t have a car. At Nick’s recommendation, I gave both of the cars to Kasey. Nick made me dependent on our life to
gether. I roll to my side and tell myself not to cry. He’s not worth it. I don’t cry. I won’t cry for him. But somehow my cheeks are wet.

  The first Monday and my first morning without Nick…

  I wake up to coffee and Chris and Sara. Watching them together is both beautiful and salt in an open wound. An hour later, I arrive at Allure with Sara and wearing Sara’s jeans, my own boots, and her Allure t-shirt. We have interviews today for several staff members, and that means no time for self-pity. I dive in and get to work. By mid-morning, my new agent has sold every piece I had in the L.A. Forum for thirty thousand apiece. Even the painting of Nick, which kind of guts me, but it’s probably for the best. I have this instinctive urge to call and tell Nick, and that guts me. And so I don’t tell anyone, not even Sara. I refocus on what’s important. I have a great agent, a great job, and money, which is suddenly important, since I need new everything. It’s a relief. I call a realtor.

  Come lunchtime, we’ve hired a receptionist to start on Monday and I already have two apartments to look at after work. At nearly four, Sara pokes her head into my office. “Delivery,” Sara says, setting a large envelope on my desk.

  I stare at the handwriting on the front that is clearly Nick’s, and let out a breath. “Thank you.” I look up at her. “I’m looking at apartments tonight and going to buy some clothes.”

  “Don’t feel rushed. I have clothes and we have the space.”

  “I know you mean that, but I think I’m going to rent a hotel room until I find a place.”

  “That’s not necessary. You know that.”

  “I do. I really do but honestly, you and Chris are so damn wonderful together, I can’t take it. That sounds horrible. I’m sorry.”

  “It sounds honest. Do you want me to go shopping with you?”

  “No. Last night I needed you badly and you were there for me and I can’t thank you enough. Tonight, I need to be alone.”

  “I can fully understand that, but if you change your mind, our door is open.”

  “Thank you.”

  She disappears in the hallway, and I stare at that envelope, my throat constricting. I throw it in the trash. I pull it back out. I throw it in the trash. Damn it, I pull it out and open it. Inside I find my favorite paintbrush with a note.

  Faith:

  I came to you looking for answers to questions I didn’t even know I needed to ask. I found those answers in you. Paint me. You’ll get your answers too because there is only one answer: Us.

  I’m coming for you and I’m doing it with proof that I don’t want anything but you.

  I love you,

  Nick

  I read that note over and over: I’m coming for you. And he will, and I’m going to send him away, no matter how much I hurt all over again.

  My first Tuesday without Nick…

  I wake in a hotel room and order room service. When my coffee and omelet arrive, I eat it alone. Alone is safe. I forgot that. I won’t forget again.

  Bill tries to call me about a dozen times. I ignore him. It’s probably not fair, but I feel angry at him for telling me what I needed to hear.

  My first Wednesday without Nick…

  I don’t order room service, but I walk to work and stop in at Rebecca’s and get coffee. I carry it with me to my desk at Allure. I drink it.

  Alone.

  I end the day with a text from Josh. He’s wiring me my twenty thousand dollars minus his fee. I don’t reply. Bill calls me. I don’t reply. When he sends me a text, I do reply: I need time.

  I say nothing more.

  My first Thursday without Nick….

  I have settled into my hotel, bought a frugal wardrobe and found an apartment a few blocks from the gallery that has an upstairs perfect for a studio. It’s an expensive rental, but I need a space that I can make mine.

  I’m about to leave for the day, when I get a strange phone call. “Faith Winter?”

  “Yes.”

  “Names Ned. I’m your broker.”

  “I don’t have a broker.”

  “You do. You invested sixty thousand in a hot stock. I want to cash you out.”

  “Nick did this, didn’t he?”

  “Yes. He did. Good fucking news for you, too. You’re up a hundred and fifty thousand but you need to get out while you’re on top. Do it?”

  I’m stunned. Blown away. Confused.

  “Do it? Snap. Snap. This is time sensitive.”

  “Yes. And send the money to Nick.”

  “Can’t do that. He put it in your name. You have to send it to him yourself. Gotta go. Toodaloo and all that shit.” He hangs up.

  My first Friday without Nick…

  I start the day feeling Nick’s silence. I don’t want to feel it, but I do. I comfort myself by putting the down payment on my apartment, but by evening the idea of a weekend alone is pretty much gutting me. I need things to fill my apartment. And when Bill calls, I answer. I agree that we need to meet. And I decide to rent a car and head to Sonoma for the weekend, talk to him, check on my house, the winery, Kasey, and gather some of the leftover personal stuff I still have there.

  Because being alone is not better, even if it is safer.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Nick

  My first night without Faith…

  Hell.

  My second night without Faith…

  Hell.

  Every night without Faith…

  Hell.

  If she’s going to Sonoma, so am I.

  The minute I hear Faith has rented a car, I know she’s driving to Sonoma. And I don’t want her there with Bill. I don’t want her there, or anywhere, without me. And I’m done waiting on the autopsy report and answers. All fucking week I’ve waited without Faith. And so, I hit the road in the BMW, for Sonoma, with a ring in my pocket and my heart shamelessly on my sleeve.

  Because being alone is fine, as long as long as being alone is with Faith. Otherwise, alone is hell.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Faith

  My new landlord calls about the time I am on the road to Sonoma, confirming I can move in next weekend. I tell her how excited I am and I try to sound convincing, but reality is setting in. I’m leaving Nick behind. I use my Siri feature to call Kasey.

  “Hey, Faith,” he answers. “Good to hear from you, stranger. I guess you meant it when you said you were going to let me run the show.”

  “I did. I do. I am coming into town just to get some of my things this weekend. You want to have dinner?”

  “Of course. When?”

  “Saturday night?”

  “Perfect. I’ll come to you after we close up.”

  I have Siri dial Bill next. “Faith. Are you on your way here?”

  “I am. I think I’m ready to talk. How about coffee tomorrow morning?”

  “That works. When and where?”

  “Do you just want to come by the house? I’m afraid I might get emotional about my parents and I really don’t want to be around people if that happens.”

  “Eight?”

  “Eight.”

  “And I understand you getting emotional, but we’ll get through this.”

  “Thanks,” I breathe out and when I hang up, I’m pretty sure I’ve misjudged him for a really long time.

  I reach for the radio, but it starts to rain and I listen to the thrum of droplets on the windows. I love the rain but tonight, it feels like I’m in an empty hole. Alone.

  And it doesn’t ease up. In fact, the rain is heavier, and the night pitch dark when I pull up to my house, and I am hollow inside except for a stabbing pain. I don’t belong here anymore. I don’t know why I wanted to come here. I almost turn around and leave, but I set up meetings. And I have random things in there. And I really need things that feel familiar.

  I walk up the steps, key in my security code, miraculously getting it right the first time, and enter the house.

  Nick

  The rain is making me crazy. It taunts me. It repeats Faith’s words: L
iar. You hurt me. You made sure I will never trust again.

  I dial Beck, desperate for anything I can share with Faith. “I’m going to see her. Your time is up.”

  “I’m onto something,” he says. “One of my CIA contacts has a ping on that mercury, and flag boy got a hit. There’s a connection there.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “Hanging out in a cabin on the outskirts of Sonoma. He tells locals he is having a Zen retreat.”

  “The autopsy report.”

  “Nothing yet but I’m working on it. I’ll be in touch.” He hangs up.

  Fifteen minutes later, in an absolute downpour, with adrenaline surging through me, I pull into the driveway of Faith’s house. Our house. I’m going to fix us. I park behind her car, and shrug out of my jacket and tie. The rain doesn’t ease up and I toss them in the back seat, and just say screw it. I exit the car and take off running, stomping a path up the stairs, and I am literally so drenched I might as well have stood in the shower. But I’m here. She’s here.

  I ring the doorbell and nothing happens. I ring it over and over, and then start pounding on the door. “Faith! I know you’re here. Talk to me. Faith!” Still nothing. I stomp back down the stairs and into the rain, the real storm raging inside me. I face the house and look for a light in her studio that I don’t find. “Faith! I’m not leaving until you talk to me. Open a window. Anything. Faith!”

  The front door opens and I run up the stairs to find her standing in the doorway, behind the screen. I reach for it, but it’s locked. “Open the door sweetheart.”