Just Pretend

by R. R. Banks

  “Are you done?”

  “Maybe.”

  “You're done,” I say.

  “I reserve the right to rebut.”

  “This isn't a courtroom. You don't get to rebut,” I say. “Believe it or not, I love your work, Bailey. This wasn't a patronizing gesture. It was genuine. Those pieces will be hanging in my house before the end of day tomorrow. I want all my guests to see them.”

  My words aren't mollifying her in the least. She's still standing there, hands on her hips, that frown still creasing her face. Those dark eyes of hers are penetrating, and I know she can see right through me.

  “Fine,” I say. “Part of it is that I wanted to give you a boost. You looked so down –”

  “And you thought buying up all my work would make me feel better?”

  I shrug. “It did. For a minute,” I say. “I would pay ten times what I just did to see that smile on your face again.”

  Her face softens – slightly – as she looks at me.

  “Look into my eyes, though,” I say. “I want you to believe me when I tell you that I really do admire your work, and that I'll be proud to display these pieces at home.”

  She searches my eyes for a long moment before seeing the truth in my words. Her hands come off her hips, and that ecstatic smile returns to her face. She pulls me to her and makes me hug her again. Her hair smells of citrus, and her body is warm, and carries a subtle hint of perfume. I've never been a hugger, but honestly, I can get used to this.

  “Thank you,” she says, her voice muffled in my jacket.

  “You're welcome,” I reply.

  I let out a silent sigh of relief, having successfully avoided a couple of major catastrophes. I'm feeling better about where we are now, though, I'm still uneasy about having confessed to my feelings for her. Mostly because I don't know what I feel. Do I like her? Yeah, absolutely. What's not to like? But, do I mean it in the way she thinks I do? That, I'm not totally sure of.

  This is why I don't do emotions – they're messy, complicated, and can't be easily defined.

  “So, how about we go get a drink?” I ask. “I have something I want to talk to you about.”

  She looks up, a curious expression on her face. “Sure,” she says. “Let me just wrap up a few things here, and we can take off.”

  “Great,” I say. “I'll just wander around a bit then.”

  She lets go of my coat lapels, and starts to turn away, but then reaches up quickly, planting a soft, chaste kiss on my lips. When she pulls away, there's a warm smile on her face.

  “What was that for?” I ask.

  “Because I felt like it,” she says. “You need to loosen up a bit, Colin. You need to give in to your impulses now and again.”

  “Yeah, I'm not very good at that.”

  A mischievous twinkle sparkles in her eye. “Good thing you met me then,” she teases.

  “You might be the death of me,” I say and laugh.

  “At least you'll go with a smile on your face then.”

  She turns and walks away, putting some added swish in her hips as she goes. She looks back over her shoulder at me and winks, knowing I've been staring at that perfect ass of hers the whole time, and all I can do is laugh.

  * * *

  We end up not going out for drinks after all. Instead, we're sitting in a fifties-themed diner called Dickie's, eating the most enormous hot fudge sundaes I've ever seen. As a rule, I usually don't eat sweets. I try to avoid them, but I have to say, this is a damn good sundae.

  “What do you think?” she asks.

  “I think I probably should have tried this place sooner.”

  “That's what I'm saying, Colin,” she says. “Live life a little. Enjoy it.”

  “I think you enjoy it enough for the both of us.”

  “That’s probably true,” she says. “But, enjoyment and happiness are not finite resources. There is more than enough for everybody.”

  She takes a big bite of her sundae, making noises of pleasure that are almost perverse. I'm glad the place is mostly empty, and we're sitting in the back of the place, not easily seen. She sees how uncomfortable I am and laughs.

  “This is what I'm talking about,” she says. “Just loosen up a bit. Have some fun.”

  I chuckle. “I think we might have two different ideas of fun.”

  She shrugs. “Maybe,” she says. “But, there's nothing saying we can't find some mutual fun together, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Good,” she replies.

  She comes around the table and scoots into the booth next to me. She pulls her sundae over and starts to eat again, pressing her body close to mine. I'm not sure what she's doing, but she's acting kind of hesitant. Cautious, almost. Her eyes roam around the place for a minute, before she turns them to me, a fiendish smile on her face.

  “In fact,” she says. “I think I know some mutual fun we can have right now.”

  “Yeah?”

  She nods, and her right hand disappears beneath the table. I groan softly when she grabs my cock through my pants and starts to stroke it.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, a small grin on my face.

  “What do you think I'm doing?”

  “Starting trouble.”

  She runs the tip of her tongue around her lips. “Then that's exactly what I'm doing.”

  Bailey moves closer to me, biting her bottom lip, her expression full of mischief. Under the table, she squeezes my cock through my pants. I have to fight to keep from moaning out loud.

  “You're going to be the death of me,” I moan quietly.

  She squeezes my cock and pumps her hand up and down the shaft. “And here I am, just trying to have a good time.”

  “In a public place?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “Sometimes you need to live a little.”

  She leans forward and plants a soft kiss on the end of my nose, giggling the whole time.

  The sensations coursing through me are intense. Vibrant. Probably made more so by the fact that we could get caught at any time. There's a look of hunger in her eyes, that makes me wonder if she's enjoying this as much as I am. I somehow doubt it.

  She adjusts her grip on me, giving herself some more leverage. I can feel my cock swelling and starting to thicken as the pressure inside of me builds up.

  Shit.

  “As much as I want you to keep going, Bailey, I’m about to lose it,” I say, sighing with disappointment.

  She laughs, and moves her hand away as we snuggle close. Being so close to her, feels good. It somehow feels natural and right. I can't explain it. It makes no sense to me. After actively shunning any sort of romantic entanglements for so long, here I am, plunging headfirst into one. What in the hell am I doing?

  As I sit there, breathing in the fresh, citrusy scent of Bailey, I find that I don't really care. I'm going to focus on enjoying the moment. It feels good. I watch other people coming and going from the restaurant, observe the wait staff bustling back and forth, and can’t help but laugh to myself. None of them know what we'd just gotten away with, and somehow, that secret knowledge, shared only by Bailey and me, makes me smile.

  “So, what did you want to talk to me about?” she murmurs.

  I suddenly feel very odd about asking her what I had planned. I don't know why, but it feels strange now. Somehow it feels – dirty. But, then I remember that time is running out, and that, coupled with the desire to keep my brothers off my back about it, tips the scale. I want whatever's happening between Bailey and I to grow organically, but I don’t have that kind of time.

  I let out a breath and sit up straight in the booth. Bailey turns and looks straight into my eyes. I explain everything to her – from my ex-fiancée, and how that all imploded, to my brothers, all the way to the fact that they would be in town soon, and I need somebody to act as my fiancée to keep them from pressuring me.

  She listens to it all with a bemused smile on her face, and when I'm done, she giggles out loud.


  “What's so funny?” I ask.

  “I just think it's kind of interesting that you picked my name out of the, literally, millions you could have chosen,” she says. “I guess you really do have a crush on me.”

  “Shut up,” I reply and laugh. “So, what do you say? Will you help me?”

  “Well, I don't know,” she says, sending a bolt of fear through me. “I'm going to have to check my social calendar.”

  “I'll pay you, Bailey,” I say quickly. “I'll definitely make it worth your time. Not only can I pay you, I'll reach out to people I know and see about getting you into one of the galleries you want to get into. I know a lot of people who can help.”

  When her back stiffens and her jaw clenches, I get the sense that I said the wrong thing. Her expression changes from bemused to hurt.

  “What's wrong?” I ask.

  “Is that what I am to you? A prostitute?” she asks. “You'll pay me to pretend to be your fiancée? What the hell, Colin?”

  I have no idea how this went sideways so fast, and I'm left speechless for a moment. She stares at me with a cold fury in her eyes, completely silent.

  “That's not it at all,” I say. “I just thought –”

  “You thought what, you could charm me, then flash some money at me, dangle an opportunity to get a showcase, and I'd do whatever you wanted? Like I'm a whore?”

  “No, Bailey, you have it all wrong.”

  “Do I?”

  I slam my fist down on the table so hard, the silverware rattles and our glasses clink. I catch a few people looking our way, but when I glare at them, they quickly turn back to their own tables. Bailey looks more than a bit stunned by my outburst – a little scared, even – and I instantly regret it. The last thing I ever want is for her to be scared of me.

  I reach out to stroke her cheek, but she recoils from my touch as if I'd slapped her. Undaunted, I reach out again, and lay my hand against her smooth cheek. I stroke it with my thumb and hold her gaze. Her big doe-eyes are wide, and her lower lip is trembling with unspoken emotion.

  “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you,” I say. “I just wanted a chance to explain.”

  “Then explain,” she says, her voice slowly regaining some of its strength. “You have my full attention now.”

  I take a deep breath, and let it out slowly, trying to keep my temper in check. It's a struggle, just like it has been my whole life. I've always been the hothead in the family. The first one to go in swinging. That attitude has gotten me in more troublesome situations than I can count, but I've tried my best to keep it under control.

  “I like you, Bailey,” I say. “More than I even realized at first. But, there's a reason I don't get involved with people romantically.”

  She looks at me, her expression softening as the fear recedes. “And why is that?”

  “Because I don't handle my emotions well,” I say. “Never have. I don't understand emotions. They make me nervous.”

  “Everybody gets scared.”

  “Not like me.”

  “Everybody thinks that too.”

  A wry smile touches my lips. “Maybe,” I say. “But, like I told you, I've had some bad experiences. Laurel really did a number on me, and I haven't been able to fully move past it.”

  “Do you still love her?” she asks, a faint glimmer of fear in her eyes.

  I run a hand across my face. “No. Any positive feelings I had for her died the day I caught her fucking my best friend,” I say.

  “Then why are you so afraid of her coming for Christmas?”

  “Because I hate her,” I retort. “I’m afraid I’m going to lose my temper and ruin everybody's good time. But, I know my brother is right. It's the right thing to do. It's what our father would have done – what he would have wanted us to do. He would have wanted me to suck it up and deal with it for a day. Like an adult. But, it would be a big help to have somebody by my side that could act as a buffer between us.”

  “A buffer?”

  I nod. “For a while, she really tried to get me to take her back,” I admit. “I don't know where she's at in her life or what she's doing, but, given the fact that she has nowhere to go on Christmas, I think it’s safe to say she doesn't have a family of her own.”

  “Sounds like a reasonable assumption.”

  “I just don't want her getting the wrong idea,” I say. “I don't want her thinking that because I allowed her to come, that I'm interested in taking her back.”

  Bailey nods as if she understands. Hopefully, she does.

  “Also, having somebody there with me, will keep my brothers off my back,” I say. “I know they want me to be happy, but they can be kind of – overbearing – at times. To put it lightly.”

  “I'm sure it comes from a good place.”

  “Oh, it does,” I say. “But, I don't want them planning out the rest of my life or trying to play matchmaker between Laurel and me. I only offered to pay you because I wanted it to make it worth your time. I don't know where this thing – whatever it is – between us is going yet. It's really early yet, but honestly, I love the way you make me feel.”

  A small grin tugs one corner of her mouth upward. “I'm sure you do.”

  “That too,” I reply with a chuckle. “But, I mean, overall. You've come storming into my life and have turned my entire world upside down, Bailey. You're making me feel emotions I've had shut down and locked up tight for years. No matter how hard I try, I can't shut down my emotions when it comes to you. And trust me, I’ve tried.”

  There's a smile on her lips, and a look in her eyes I can't quite identify. She leans forward and gives me a slow, sweet kiss that seems to last forever, and yet, not anywhere near long enough. Ordinarily, I'm not a PDA sort of person, but with Bailey, it feels natural, and I don't mind it. Like I said, she's turning my entire world upside down. When she pulls back, the look on her face is soft. Sweet. It's an expression I could get used to seeing a lot more of.

  “I thought by paying you for your time, I could help you out. I know you've told me that you sometimes have a hard time making ends meet,” I say. “But, I didn't mean for it to sound like an offer to be a prostitute.”

  “That's kind of what it sounds like though,” she says, but without any of the heat or anger from before.

  “I know,” I say. “I see that now. But honestly, I only want to help you. I mean, I want you to help me, of course, but I genuinely thought it would be a win-win for both of us.”

  She lets out a breath. “I like you too, but I don't like feeling like a hooker, Colin.”

  “I'm not asking you to be one. Look, I want to get to know you and see how this develops, Bailey. But, I'm also in kind of a bind at the same time,” I say. “I just thought, we could get through the weekend with my family. And once they're gone, we can explore what we have together.”

  She looks at me, the skepticism in her face more than obvious. I know it’s an odd request. In a certain light, it even sounds sketchy. But, I'm being honest about this. I like Bailey and really want to see where this goes, but I also need help with my brothers, and their families.

  “Believe me when I say, I'm not asking you to sleep with me. I'm not paying you to sleep with me. Sex isn't part of this deal,” I say. “I just want to get through the weekend with them, get them off my back, and go back to our normal lives. And for me, that includes exploring this thing between us.”

  She sits back in the booth and stares straight ahead. I can tell that the suggestion still bothers her. I know it struck her the wrong way, though, and I can feel the air between us cooling down and becoming more frigid. She hasn't quite thrown up a wall of ice, yet, but it’s definitely coming. I can feel it. And I want to kick myself in the ass for it.

  “I need some time to think it over,” she says.

  “Of course,” I say. “But, if you can get back to me in a couple of days, I’d appreciate it. If you don't want to do it, I’ll need to figure something else out.”

  She gives me a
rueful grin. “You're going through an awful lot of trouble just to pull one over on your brothers,” she says.

  “You don't know my brothers,” I say. “If they've determined it's time for me to settle down with somebody, they'll move heaven and earth to make it happen. I'd just like to avoid that if I can.”

  She laughs softly. “Sometimes, I'm glad I'm an only child.”

  “Sometimes, I wish I were.”

  Bailey

  “I'm not a hooker!” I cry, slamming my bottle down on the table.

  It's an empty bottle, now, and I'm ready for another one. Cesar's glass is still mostly full, and he looks at me curiously, since we've only been at the bar for fifteen minutes – and I've already downed an entire bottle of beer.

  I'm sitting across from Cesar in a local bar we like to frequent and have drinks together. I've already filled him in on the more pertinent details of what's going on, so he understands why I'm fuming. At least, I think he does. The way he looks at me, like I'm amusing him, tells me he may not.

  Colin and I left things between us amicably enough, but after I went home, I had some time alone. Time to think. Time to dwell. Time to stew. And honestly, the idea that Colin wants to pay me to be his fiancée – his escort – is sitting more and more wrong with me as the minutes and hours pass. It just feels so dirty.

  I want to believe him when he says he likes me and wants to explore this thing that's growing between us. I really, really want to believe him. But, the whole idea of pay-to-play with him is bothering me on a deep, profound level. Why can't he just introduce me as somebody he's recently started to see? Why does he have to invent this whole long-term relationship that doesn't exist – and then pay me to continue the lie?

  Granted, I don't know, and can't understand the family dynamics at work, but I don't like feeling like I'm some dirty secret, either. When I left Colin the other night, I thought I was okay with it. Or at least, okay with it enough to think about it. But, now that I’ve had some time and distance to reflect on it, I realize I'm not okay with it. Not anywhere near okay, honestly.