Текст книги "Playing Pretend"
Автор книги: Juliana Haygert
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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 12 страниц)
“What’s your favorite movie?”
“The Pelican Brief.”
“TV series?”
“Law and Order, though it’s not a true portrait of court life.”
“Favorite book.”
“Any biography by men of elevated position.”
“Song?”
“Anything by the Beatles.”
I was sure if I went on and asked what the most daring thing he ever did was, he would say that it was when he wore a bright green tie with a beige suit.
The worst part, he didn’t ask me the same questions. So what? He didn’t want to find out more about me? He reached over the table and ran his thumb over my hand. I watched it, expecting a shiver to run up my spine, a heat to settle low in my stomach. Nothing.
“Ready?” he asked, smiling.
I smiled back. “Yes.”
Back at my house, I let him open my door and guide me up the front stairs.
He looked into my eyes. “I had a great night.”
That made one of us. “Me too.”
In slow motion and awkward moves, Donnie reached for my hands and leaned toward me. I braced myself, preparing my mind for the kiss. I would kiss him back. I had to.
His lips touched mine in a shy peck. Before he could try more, I pulled back, fighting the urge to wipe my mouth in front of him.
A satisfied grin adorning his face, he clasped my hand, lifted it to his lips, and placed a kiss on my knuckles. “I’ll call you soon.”
“Okay.”
With a skip in his step, Donnie walked back to his car.
As soon as the car drove away, I rushed inside, eager to brush my teeth, even though he barely touched my lips.
Chapter Nine
Mason
My days were sucky. It was only the middle of June and I was already tired of summer. All I did was work some gigs here and there, go to bed late, wake up even later, and try to keep my mind off Charlotte. Two weeks had passed since the last time I had seen her at that damned club, and every waking hour, I had to stop myself from going to the Executive Mansion in Richmond or trying to find out her phone number and calling her.
It was odd how I only thought about Charlotte now, as if I hadn’t had a girlfriend before her. Tamara who?
Since that first ball, when I met Charlotte again, I said no to all other fancy parties that involved politicians. I preferred bartending clubs and reducing the risk of bumping into her again, especially if she could be with that guy, that Donnie Williams, the one all the newspapers claimed was her boyfriend.
But I needed more to do. This partying, but not partying life was getting old.
I made some pancakes and black coffee, picked up the newspaper, and sat down on a high stool at the kitchen’s island. I poured honey over my pancakes, while I flipped through the newspaper, trying to find a job that I could apply for, preferably something in civil engineering, in which I could work part time and still go to graduate school.
Nothing really grabbed my attention.
Cursing, I took my plate to the sink. I was rinsing it to put it into the dishwasher, when a knock on the door stopped me.
My heart paused for a second and my mind flew. Could it be Charlotte? But how had she found out where I lived?
Hope was in full bloom in my chest as I rushed to the door. I stopped for a second and looked down at myself. I was wearing cotton pajamas pants and nothing else. My hair was probably a mess. I probably should go to my room and at least comb my hair. Hmm, not that she hadn’t seen me like this before, and apparently she had liked it but—
The knock came again.
I stopped my mental diarrhea and opened the door.
“What the hell are you two doing here?”
Brody brushed past me and entered the apartment, looking around. “Hey, Mason, this place sucks.”
Matt pulled me into a hug. “Hey, big brother, how is life on the East Coast?” He stepped inside and joined Brody in analyzing the apartment.
Slowly, I closed the door. “What are you doing here?”
“Hey!” Brody made a hurt face. “You don’t want us here?”
“You told me to save money and come visit you,” Matt protested.
“No, man, it’s not that,” I said. “I just didn’t expect to see you here.”
Matt’s eyes widened. “You got a chick here? Hey, man, sorry, we didn’t mean to interrupt whatever you—”
I headed into the kitchen. “There’s no chick here.”
Brody followed me. “So, what’s the problem? We thought you would love to see us. The gang back together, terrorizing the city!”
Matt chuckled. “He has been saying that since we bought the plane tickets.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Weirdo.”
Brody bowed. “Thank you.” He started rummaging through the cabinets as if he had always lived there. “So, we’re here to party. Where are we going tonight?”
I put my dirty plate inside the dishwasher. “I don’t know. There is a ton of clubs and bars downtown.”
Brody found a clean mug and filled it with steamy coffee. “Just take us to where the cute chicks are, man. The rest is the rest.”
Matt leaned against the doorjamb. “Another thing he has been saying since we bought the tickets.”
I looked from my young brother to my best friend. It wasn’t quite who I had been expecting, but maybe it was better. My friends were here now and I hadn’t realized how much I had missed them until they were here, talking shit and making a mess in my kitchen.
Though I wasn’t in the best mood to party, I owed it to them.
“All right, I think I know a nice bar where cute chicks hang out. But”—I glanced to the digital clock on the stove—“it’s not even noon yet and the place opens at six.”
Matt, the history freak, grinned like a little kid in an amusement park. “We could go sightseeing.”
“What?” Brody asked, the expression on his face terrified.
I laughed.
“Seriously, come on,” Matt insisted. “Got anything better to do? Bet there will be hundreds of cute chicks to look at while we walk around the National Mall. Tell him, Mason.”
Brody sported a sly grin. “I have no idea what the National Mall is, but if cute chicks are going to be there, so will we.”
“I would be up for that,” I said.
While my brother and my best friend were here, I would take advantage of their push and hook up with some girl. It was the only way to forget Charlotte.
I hoped.
* * *
Charlotte
“I’m glad you could come,” Donnie said, opening the door of the car for me and offering his hand.
“Me too,” I lied, smiling as convincingly as I was taught.
My mother had set me up again. This time, I was to spend an entire Saturday with Donnie in Washington. I had no time to argue as she informed me of it two minutes before Donnie showed up at our front door.
I took his hand and slid out of the car. I smoothed my summer dress, which actually looked more like a cocktail dress—beige with yellow and orange flowers prints, and it came down to my knees. I wore caramel pumps and held a matching wristlet. All I was missing was one of those gigantic hats and beelike sunglasses, and I would look like a snobby high society woman going to watch a polo game at a country club where the monthly membership cost more than the average rent price.
Like this, I felt as if I was forty instead of nineteen. I also felt suffocated and ashamed for hiding so much of me.
Donnie placed my hand on his arm, and we walked down Independence Avenue.
Despite the circumstances, it was a beautiful day. Sunny but not too hot, with a suave breeze hitting here and there.
I glanced at Donnie. He seemed nice, a little too invested in politics for my taste, but almost everyone in Washington was. He was handsome, in a way. Tall, average build, with good skin, good hair, beautiful pale blue eyes. I wondered how his body was under the expensive shirts and slacks.
Heat crept on my cheeks. I shouldn’t be thinking that, because I certainly didn’t want to know. Which was too bad. I wished I wanted to know. I really did, but it wasn’t there. No sparks, no butterflies in my stomach when he looked at me. Granted, not everyone was lucky to have that kind of relationship, but I sure wanted to be one of the lucky ones.
He smiled at me. “How many times have you been here before?”
“Too many to count,” I said. It was true. I was practically born and raised at the National Mall.
“I guess this is boring, then. I’m sorry. I should have asked first.” He paused. “Do you want to go somewhere else?”
“No, it’s fine. I like walking around here.”
He patted my hand tucked in his arm. “Good.”
We made a turn on 7th Street, and then entered Jefferson Drive, going toward the Washington Monument. We passed the carousel and I wished I were little enough to ride it. I sure would have fun.
Well, if Liana, MaryAnn, and Becca were here, I was sure they would find a way for the four of us to ride the carousel.
I looked ahead again and my heart squeezed, sending a painful jolt through my chest.
Mason, with his brother and his best friend, was coming from the other side, from the Smithsonian Museum. They talked and laughed, bumped elbows in ribs, and slapped shoulders. Boys will be boys. They walked toward the Professor Joseph Henry Statue, and we would cross paths in a few more seconds.
I looked back, trying to think of another place to go, maybe back to the Hirshhorn. I opened my mouth to tell Donnie to turn around, when Matt’s wide eyes met mine and he halted in his tracks, patting his brother’s chest and pointing at me.
The three of them stopped and I noticed the conversation became harsher.
Without hesitation, Mason walked toward me—and Donnie.
Frowning, I halted. “Donnie,” I started. Still smiling, he turned to me. “I’m thirsty. Could you please buy some water for me?”
“Sure.” He looked around, a little lost.
“There.” I pointed behind us. “A kiosk right beside the carousel.”
“Of course. Just water?”
I needed more time. “How about a hot chocolate instead? And please, see if they have a fresh blueberry muffin.”
“I’ll be right back.” He walked away, looking as if he was about to break into happy skips.
Afraid of being caught, I rushed to Mason. Since I wouldn’t be able to hide, it was better confront him fast and have this over with.
I beckoned him out of the path, where trees hid us from Donnie’s sight. With a knot between his brows, Mason raised his hand to Matt and Brody. The guys stopped, and then he followed me.
The guys waved at me, and I returned the gesture.
Mason tucked his hands inside his pocket as his eyes traveled up and down my body. I flushed, suddenly embarrassed for being dressed like that in front of him. Ugh, I hated how I cared what he thought.
“Not your boyfriend,” Mason said, his tone strained and his eyes tough.
“He’s not,” I said. “My mother has been setting up these outings and … you know what? It doesn’t matter.”
“He sure looks like your boyfriend.”
I groaned. “What do you want?” He shrugged, averting his eyes. “You were walking toward me. If you didn’t want anything, you wouldn’t have done that.”
He stared at me. “I don’t know, okay? I just saw you, and like before, I just had to get to you, to see you.” He gave a step toward me, his eyes softening a little. “I want to talk to you.”
“Mason.” I sighed. “You don’t want to get mixed up with me. It’s not worth it.”
“You should let me decide that.” He took a step closer.
I knew I should move away, but I couldn’t. My gaze followed his ticking jaw, his tense neck, the neckline of his black shirt, the way it hugged his shoulders, arms, and chest. I could see his muscles. I remembered them. I found myself incapable of ungluing my eyes from his body. His jeans also didn’t help. They were tight enough to see he had a great behind and powerful legs.
With the breeze, his aftershave scent hit me and I inhaled deeply, remembering how many times I had wrapped myself around that scent. Around him. I shivered.
I looked up and found Mason less than a foot from me.
“You were just checking me out,” he said, the corner of his lip tugging up. “That has to count for something.”
“No, I wasn’t!” I said too quickly.
He leaned over me and I stopped breathing. “That’s okay. I like it. It means you want me. And I want you too.”
His hand reached for me but I snapped out of it. Looking side to side, I retreated, putting a few feet between us.
I put on my business hat. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. It may seem interesting, a challenge, but that’s all this is. I’m not the girl you met in Califor—”
“I know you are,” I said.
“—nia. This is me.” I waved down myself, feeling sick to my stomach. I so wasn’t like this and I hated lying to him, but I had to. I couldn’t have him looking at me like that, because I wouldn’t be able to say no for much longer. “Though I’m not dating Donnie, that’s what is expected of me.”
“That’s bullshit.”
I felt the tears burning behind my eyes. “This is my life.”
Before I broke down, I turned my back to him and rushed away.
“Charlotte!” Mason called, but I ignored him.
I wiped the unshed tears as I stepped back onto the path. The urge to look back, to run back to him was painful, but I didn’t give in. Two steps into the path, I found Donnie a few yards east, looking around, searching for me, and holding two steaming cups.
He turned around and smiled when he saw me. “There you are,” he said, strolling to me. “I thought I had lost you.”
I took a cup from him. “Sorry, I had something on my shoe, so I went looking for a place to sit and fix it.”
He offered his arm to me. “Is it fixed now?”
What was fixed? My shoe? My mind? My heart? “Yes, it is.”
“Good,” he said.
I suggested changing routes and going north, toward the White House, hoping we stayed clear of any kind of temptations.
* * *
Mason
I stood there, watching as Charlotte escaped from me with that goddamned boyfriend of hers. All I wanted was to scoop her in my arms, run away with her, and say to hell with her I-have-to-be-like-this routine. But I didn’t. I knew she would resent me more than be happy with the act. So I just stared, my fists closed, my teeth gritted.
“What was that?” Matt asked, catching up with me.
Brody put his arm over my shoulders. “Charlotte lives here?”
“Yes. No. She lives in Richmond.”
Matt gaped. “Wait. Have you known where she was from since spring break? I thought she didn’t tell you.”
“She didn’t,” I said. “I had no idea where she lived, until I met her at a ball. I worked as a waiter and she was one of the rich people enjoying the evening.”
Brody’s brows shot up. “How rich?”
“As in daughter of the governor rich.”
“Fuck,” Brody whispered.
Matt whistled. “That explains the odd clothes.”
“What?” I asked.
“Yes, well, politicians and their families have certain standards,” Matt explained.
I sighed. “But that’s not her.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do,” I said. “She’s the girl I met during spring break. This one”—I pointed my chin to where she disappeared—“is like a mask she wears.” Matt narrowed his eyes at me. “What?”
“You’ve got it bad,” he said. Brody nodded in agreement.
“What? Of course not. I barely know her.”
Matt laughed. “As if that mattered.”
“I’ve got nothing,” I hissed. “And I’m gonna prove it tonight.”
Chapter Ten
Charlotte
“This is getting harder,” I said, my cell phone pressed between my ear and my shoulder.
“I think I heard that a couple of weeks ago,” Liana said, on the other side of the line.
“But now it is even harder.” I halted in front of the tall mirror in my closet and looked at myself. I didn’t look like it, but I felt like a total mess. “It wasn’t this hard before, to do whatever my mother wanted. To be conservative. To dress in pencil skirts and blouses. To wear pearls. To go through political science. I didn’t mind it before, not this much anyway.”
“That is because …” Liana prompted.
I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Mason, about my life, about my future since I had seen him five days ago at the National Mall. Who was I kidding? I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about any of it since bumping into him at the Memorial Day ball over a month ago.
I grunted. “You know why.”
“I do, but I think saying it out loud helps. It’s like your brain won’t really absorb it if you don’t say it out loud.”
“Then I won’t say it out loud.”
“Charlotte!” Liana chuckled. “You have to. Come on. Do it.”
With one free hand, I picked up my dress and put it in front of myself—a deep green cocktail dress with a narrow waist and a flare skirt that fell to my knees. Always to my knees. And the neckline came way over my breasts. No parts exposed whatsoever.
I sighed. “I can’t … I shouldn’t.”
“I love you. I always have, and I’ll continue loving you even when you marry that guy you’ve been going out with lately,” Liana said. I cringed, glad my friend couldn’t see me. “And become the next First Lady, and forget all about me. However, if you do that, you’ll forget about you too, you know.”
Yup. I knew that. “I wish it was easy,” I mumbled.
“I know. But I’m here, okay. If you need someone to hold your hand or to give you a push, I’m here.”
I smiled. “I know. Thank you.”
“Charlotte!” My mother’s voice echoed from the corridor. “Are you ready?”
“Almost!” I shouted back. Then I spoke into the phone, “I’ve gotta go.”
“All right. Call me later.”
“I will.”
“Try to have fun,” Liana said, as always.
I hung up and slipped on the dress carefully so as not to ruin my makeup and my intricate ponytail. After a little shimmy, I was able to pull the zipper up. I put on my pumps and looked at myself in the mirror again. However, I didn’t see me. It saw Peyton McClain’s daughter, someone I barely knew, someone I barely liked.
Until recently—until Mason moved to Washington—I had been okay with all of this. I knew my mother would direct my life, tell me what to do, who to date, where to go. I was sure my mother wouldn’t choose anything bad for me. I had been raised to trust my mother, to obey my mother. Yes, I had my few hours with Liana, MaryAnn, and Becca every week and that was all the escape I had needed. Now, it didn’t seem enough. I wanted more. I wanted to be free. I wanted to live my life, to make my choices, to go to art school instead of law, to work for a studio and have my face smeared with charcoal, to live in a messy townhouse in a nice residential neighborhood with kids playing ball in the streets, to kiss the guy I wanted to kiss.
My mother’s shout startled me out of my daze. “Charlotte! We’re going to be late to the fundraiser!”
“Coming,” I shouted back, slowly retreating from the mirror.
In the foyer, my mother stood beside Donnie, who was all smiles.
“You look beautiful,” he said, and I suppressed a cringe. This was our sixth, maybe seventh date, and he always said the same thing when he saw me. Always. Guess I should be flattered, but the only thing I thought was that he should learn more sentences.
He took my hand when I reached the last step of the stairs, and hooked it under his arm.
“Thank you,” I said, my perfect fake smile in place.
I let him take me to the car, all the while thinking about what Liana suggested. Try to have fun. I would. I really would try.
* * *
Mason
I rolled out of bed at 3 p.m. In only my boxers, I dragged my feet to the kitchen and started a new pot of coffee.
Matt and Brody had gone back to Cali three days ago, and I hadn’t been able to prove that I didn’t have a thing for Charlotte after all. That night I had been called to help at a wedding party. Two of the hired waiters were down and they need more hands ASAP. Because of the nice hourly rate, Matt and I accepted the offer and worked until 5 a.m. Brody, on the other hand, went out by himself and came back to my apartment mid-afternoon the next day.
Then, I launched back into the club I mostly worked at. After five nights of serving other people’s drinks from 9 p.m. to 4 a.m., I felt exhausted, and I would do it again tonight. It was better than staying home, staring at the walls, and thinking about Charlotte.
Christ. When things between Tamara and me ended, I hadn’t been this hung up on her. I had been broken by the situation, and I had been distraught about how things ended, about being played for a fool for so long. However, I forgot Tamara quite easily, and it was because of Charlotte, the girl who now inhabited every inch of my mind.
I groaned, irritated with myself for not being able to control my thoughts.
The coffeepot beeped and I grabbed a mug from the cabinet. While serving my coffee, I looked at the clock on the microwave and wondered if I should go earlier to the club tonight. It would help take my mind off her. Then tomorrow I would be more tired and would be able to sleep all morning and all afternoon. Ugh, I couldn’t wait until my freaking classes started to give me more to do, but they were still two months away. Two entire months. I would go crazy like this.
I sat on the stool before the high counter and sipped from my coffee. The newspaper lying beside me caught my attention. Well, something to pass the next five minutes, and I still needed to look for a better job. I snatched it and flipped through the pages.
Of course, I had to feel worse. A picture of Governor Peyton McClain at a fundraiser event illustrated the fourth page, and behind her stood Charlotte and that guy. Ugh, he looked like her boyfriend. Why would she lie to me? She could easily say that the guy was her boyfriend, which would keep me way. Or so I told myself. Because, honestly, I wasn’t sure anymore.
After meeting with her at the National Mall six days ago, I didn’t know anything anymore. I wanted to go through with my plan, to become the next womanizer in town, not get attached to anyone, but apparently, I was already attached to Charlotte. Christ, after she walked away from me with that Donnie boy, I could barely sleep. I lay in bed for hours, only thinking about her, about ripping that fancy dress from her, about throwing her on my bed, about licking her entire body, and making her scream my name.
I had to control myself right now. David would come home from work any time now and my roommate didn’t need to witness my hard-on.
I closed my eyes, breathed in and out, and pictured my fourth grade math teacher cleaning his ear with his pinkie nail. Yeah, that did the trick.
What good did that do if, when I opened I eyes, I saw her photo again and instantly remembered all of my nights with her? Christ, I needed a cold shower.
Okay, this was ridiculous. I couldn’t feel this way about her. I didn’t know anything about her. It was insane. And I wasn’t prepared for another relationship. I didn’t want another relationship. Why bother, when someone always ended up hurt? Look at Charlotte and me. Things between us hadn’t even started and it was already hurting.
There must be a way out of this.
My plan. Yes, my plan. Women. Lots of them. No attachments.
I would execute it tonight. Just because I was working, it didn’t mean I couldn’t meet someone, did it? In fact, I had proved it worked, meeting Charlotte that way, and here she was, making her way into my thoughts again.
I shot up from the stool and went into the bathroom, turning on the shower and entering under the cold water in my boxers and all.
* * *
Mason
Even though the club wasn’t crowded, the bar area was and, at 1 a.m., I still hadn’t stopped moving and running up and down. What was it with people and Fridays? They all had to come out of their holes and shove alcohol down their throats to survive.
Finally, past two, things started to slow down.
A girl plopped down on a stool. Her hair was pitch black, cut into a neat bob, and her makeup was a little smeared.
“What can I get for you?”
She smiled, but it didn’t touch her eyes. “A kiss?” I stiffened. I hadn’t expected that answer. The girl chuckled. “I’m kidding. A margarita, please.”
I prepared her drink and handed it to her. “Here you go.”
“Though, if you know a guy with free lips, I wouldn’t mind meeting him.” The girl played with the little umbrella on her glass. Knowing I shouldn’t be too friendly to customers—club orders—I arched an eyebrow. “Oh, you know. Boy problems. Boy is a jerk and girl cries for being stupid. Now girl wants to forget about boy.”
I sighed. “I think I heard that before.”
“So, any friends to introduce me to?”
“No, I’m new around here. No friends yet.” I held my breath for a second, considering my options. Well, she was here, right, so why not? “Though, my lips are free.”
Her eyes grew wide, and then she squinted, looking at my body. Her cheeks gained a pink tint. “I gotta say, you’re quite handsome.”
I leaned over the bar. “You aren’t so bad either.”
Smiling, the girl scooted closer to me. “And what is your name, free lips?” Her breath smelled of alcohol. Apparently, she had more drinks before this one.
“Mason. Yours?”
“Jade.” She licked her lips. “What time do you leave?”
I glanced at my wristwatch. “In less than forty minutes.”
“Well, I think I’ll be right here until then.”
She stayed on the same stool for the next forty minutes, and had three more margaritas. I wondered if she would be okay to do anything. I wondered if I would be okay to do anything.
What the hell? Of course I would. I was a guy. Guys never said no to sex, especially when the girl looked nice and seemed a little frisky. Right?
Four in the morning came and I left with Jade. During the short taxi ride to her dorm, we never said a word. We didn’t even touch.
Her dorm was actually a small apartment, much like mine. Jade guided me to her bedroom, putting her finger over her lips when we passed by her roommate’s door.
She closed her door behind us and stood before me.
This was awkward.
A little unsure if I should just get this over with or if I should go slowly, I leaned to her. Without meaning to, she swayed out of reach and giggled.
“Sorry,” she said. “I guess I had one too many drinks.”
I ran my hand through my hair. “That’s okay.”
She took off her heels and approached me. “Where were we?” She put her arms around my shoulders. “Oh yeah, I think it was right here.”
She pulled my neck down and kissed me.
I slid my hands down her waist and kissed her back. It was a nice kiss. Her mouth was soft and wasn’t too slobbery, even after her too many drinks. Okay, I could get into this. I pressed her body to mine and deepened the kiss. My hand reached for her hair, but I fingered the air instead. Startled, I pulled back and realized I had been looking for Charlotte’s long hair, not the bob this girl had.
“What’s wrong?” Jade asked.
I shook his head, clearing his mind. “Nothing.”
I bent into her again, trailing kisses down her neck, and the girl moaned. I inhaled, and the smell of cigars and some flowery perfume greeted me. Very different from the sweet cherry scent I was expecting.
I released her.
She put her hands on her hips—they were a little larger than Charlotte’s too—and stared at me. “Something is wrong.”
Christ, I couldn’t even be a free man anymore. “It’s just …”
Jade nodded. “I get it. There’s another girl, right? You haven’t forgotten her. Believe me, I get it.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m not mad. I think this was good for you anyway.”
I frowned. “Why is that?”
She smiled at me, all too knowing. “Because now you know you really like her.”
