A lie that is sure to be in the spotlight at dinner tomorrow night.
7
Mason
That Escalated Quickly
Clarissa and I exit the bank into the deliciously still warm fall air. We both take a deep breath.
"Well that escalated quickly.” Clarissa darts her eyes toward me.
“Yeah. Geographical analysis? You have a penchant for big words.”
“No, not that! Don’t play dumb.”
“Those words came out of my mouth before I could think. About us being together. When she assumed, I-”
She rubs my shoulder. “It’s okay. You don’t have a huge penchant for thinking before you speak, do you?” She winks.
I shake my head. “I like to wing it. What can I say.”
"It's okay," she continues. “I owe you one."
"No, you don't," I shake my head.
"Yes, I do. And you know exactly why. I still feel bad about-"
"It doesn't matter," I interject, cutting her off. “Seriously, you don't have to do this if you don't want to. We can just call it off. Right now would be the time to do that, before we get in too deep. We can go back in there right now and fess up.”
She smiles devilishly. “By too deep, do you mean go to a dinner with Mrs. Crabtree and my mom as…” she pauses, puts her hand over her heart, and gasps in an exaggerated fashion. “Boyfriend and girlfriend?”
I grab hold of her hand and face her body. She leans back against the concrete wall of the bank.
“I’m not going to lie. I think you would make a fantastic fake girlfriend."
"Would I?" she breathes, and the words come out way too sexy.
"Oh, yes, definitely. The best in the business. But I feel like I am roping you into this. This isn't your dream to start a bar. It’s mine. Opening a place is going to be a lot of work, and if she thinks we are business partners, this could get a little-”
“Complicated,” she finishes my thought.
“I was going to say sticky. But sure, complicated works.”
I cock my head and look at her, trying to read her mind. She taps her nose and lowers her eyes in thought.
“That’s all fine and good. But what makes you think I’d want to be your fake girlfriend?” she asks, biting her lower lip.
“Like what’s in it for you?”
“Exactly.”
I rub my hands together. “Now that’s a good question. Clarissa, you know how important this bar is to me. I can offer you anything you want. Honestly. Just name the benefits you’d like, and they’re yours.”
She arches an eyebrow. “Benefits? What kind of...benefits were you thinking?”
I shrug. “Anything. I swear to God, if it’s within the realm of possibility, I’ll give it to you.”
She taps her nose a few times, then sighs.
"I’m just kidding around. I know it’ll be some work to start this bar with you. But it’s October now. And the hiring schedule for the job I want at Blackwell High School comes up next April for the following school year. I really want to get a job as a social worker at Blackwell High, but until then I could help you." She pauses. “I really think this will be fun. You are the best bartender in town, I know this place will be a success."
“You don't think my beard will scare off the ladies?"
“No. Actually, I think it will probably bring more of them in.” She threads her hand lightly through my beard.
“You’re saying I don’t scare people? That’s a relief. But it’s also a lie. Remember when you saw me at the retirement home, before you realized it was me? You damn near jumped out of your chair like a surprised cat.”
She lifts her chin, and leans her head to the side a bit. "You might scare people off a little bit. But it's like Edgar said, I don't care what anyone else says about you. I think you are a good guy despite your cold hard exterior."
“And no one’s ever getting through this cold hard exterior,” I joke, tapping a tattoo on my arm.
She laughs, throwing back her head. "Oh, Mason, stop it.”
She puts her hand on my forearm and squeezes.
Again with the arm thing. I decide to call her out this time.
"You like touching my arm, don't you?"
"Yes. Why wouldn't I? Your arms are nice.”
“Let’s see yours then.”
She lifts her arm and makes a muscle. I wrap my hand around her bicep. “Wow. Do you do crossfit or something?”
“I used to do yoga back in school. I haven’t really gotten back into it .”
“Oh. Well whatever you’re doing, it’s working. Just so you know.” I remove my hand and give her a brief up-and-down, then move my open palm in a circular fashion, almost like I’m polishing a car. “Like, the whole thing you’ve got going on here is working. Very well.”
“Thanks, Mason.” She brushes her wavy brown hair behind her head and it shines in the sun. Her eyes sparkle as she gazes up at me.
Holy fuck, she looks hot right now. It’s funny when girls catch you off guard with their beauty. You never expect to be overcome by a girl in the early afternoon when she’s wearing casual attire, and the two of you are standing on some random sidewalk in your small town.
But at this moment I realize there’s no use denying the obvious.
I want Clarissa. Bad.
I want to take her back to my place and undress her slowly and kiss every square inch of her. I want to fuck her so good she thinks about it for weeks—no, years—after.
Decades.
When she’s happily married to some nice guy and in her golden years, I want her to remember our crazy sex and get wet.
But admitting how badly I want her doesn’t mean I can have her. Because oddly, now that we’re in a fake relationship—and business partners—our friendship has just become a whole lot more complicated in minutes.
And the golden rule of the service industry now applies to us.
Not to mention the golden rule of my best friend’s little sister.
How are we going to manage this? Mixing feelings and work is a recipe for disaster.
Plus, who knows how she really feels. She’s always been a little flirty with me, but it’s been a while since our brief high school tryst.
I decide I’ll keep things light and easy and just enjoy this ride, wherever it takes us. No matter what, I love Clarissa’s company and I’m flattered she’s willing to help me out.
“Well now, as my official fake girl, you can touch them as often as you want,” I proclaim. “Permission has been granted.”
"Ohh. Bonus. And, I’m thinking we should set some ground rules for this...situation we have on our hands. So, obviously, we are fake dating, right," she starts.
I nod.
“And Mrs. Crabtree is going to think it's suspicious, you know if we are not at least a little bit...physical.”
"You mean more than arm touching?”
She sighs. “Be serious, Mason. I’m trying to help you here.”
“Ok, sorry. Well, I know you are okay with the arm touching. But how physical do you think we should get? I mean we want to make sure we look natural and easygoing together."
She slides her hand on top of my shirt, feeling my abs. “Besides, with you, it won't be a problem to act like this."
I swallow.
I love the touch of her soft hands across my abs.
Her emphasis on the word ‘acting’ freaks me out. What exactly does she mean by that? Does she mean it's easy to act with me because she would never consider a real relationship with me?
Luckily, I am the king of playing it cool.
Despite the fact that all of my blood flow is being directed to a rapid expansion of a certain organ between my legs. Must be that damn jasmine oil.
"I auditioned for a high school play once, you know," I say. I reciprocate her touch on my abs by gripping her hip lightly. “I won’t have a problem faking.”
"Okay, well I'll be the judge of that tomorrow night,” she
breathes, and there’s an awkward pause between us as we stare into each other’s eyes.
Like we are back in high school and no one wants to make the first move.
I’ve been in this position before, normally it’s a cake walk. I’m as smooth as butter with women.
Clarissa trips me up.
It makes no fucking sense.
Right as I’m about to spin away from her and walk off, Mrs. Crabtree walks out of the bank. “Oh, you two are still out here. Well hello.”
"Oh, I was just saying goodbye before I go to my shift," Clarissa informs Mrs. Crabtree.
"Oh, well sorry for interrupting. I was just going to get a late lunch. Just one of those days, you know? I was so busy and by the time I looked at the clock it was two o'clock and I haven't eaten a thing. Well, see you two lovebirds later.”
She watches us out of the corner of her eye as she walks.
My mind turns to mush. Which is good. Because the next thing I do, I act with my gut, not my brain.
I take Clarissa in my arms, press her up against the brick wall, and kiss her fiercely. When our lips touch, an electric current surges through me and I think my heart wants to explode right now. I feel her hand rubbing gently back and forth across my abs over my T-shirt. My hand rests on her hip.
"Woo hoo, get some in broad daylight," teenagers yell as they ride by.
We unlock lips and I open my eyes.
"Hey, buddy shouldn't you be in school!" I yell back, and when I do, I see Mrs. Crabtree stares at us with a giant grin.
From down the street, she calls to us. I don't think you will have any problem attracting customers! I can’t wait to see you both tomorrow!"
When I turn back to Clarissa, she stares up at me through her glasses with those baby blues, breathing hard. I notice my hand has fallen slightly more down on her hips into that nebulous territory—if I grabbed one inch lower, I’d be in the butt zone.
Reality hits, and I take my hand off her. She pulls her hand away from my abs.
"That was...interesting," she says, her voice raspy.
I nod. “Very.”
I know she’s an observant girl, and I hope she can't see the now fully-formed hard on in my jeans.
"I was thinking,” I say, and my hand slips into hers. “Friday before dinner, do you want to scope out the property ?"
"Just let me know what time," she says, pushing her glasses up her nose. “Partner.”
In that moment, a flash of fantasy overtakes me.
I want so badly to see those delicate lips kissing a trail down my abs, glasses still on.
In my mind’s eye, I can picture it right now. And it’s so wrong. Especially when she wraps her hand around my-
“Um...hello?” Clarissa waves a hand in front of my eyes, and I shake my head, realizing my eyes glazed over. When I refocus, her brow is furrowed and she’s staring right at me. “What are you thinking about?” she asks.
I swallow. “Oh, just that you are the best fake girlfriend a guy could ever ask for,” I say.
"Um, thanks. Just wait until you see the fake bitch side of my personality, though. You'll regret you ever said that.”
I throw my head back and laugh at her. “You have a bitch side? Hard to believe.”
“Just wait. See you later, boyfriend.”
As she walks away I have a strange feeling of déjà vu. I remember that fateful day I still try to block out of my memory from high school. Although it started out as the best day of my life, it ended as the worst.
8
Clarissa
A White Lie Never Hurt Anyone
High School Homecoming Day
When the best—and worst—day of my life begins, I sit in the Blackwell football stands to watch the high school homecoming game. My brother is playing, along with his buddies who are both seniors, Liam and Mason. I watch from the stands, and a crisp fall breeze wafts across my face.
Tonight is the homecoming dance, and I am happy because a boy asked me out.
Last year no one thought to ask me, but this year I have at least had a little bit of interest from boys. Still, I think all I’m really known for is being the awkward nerdy girl with glasses.
My friend Lisa sits next to me in the stands. Both of us are going to homecoming with senior football players. I am going with a guy named Rex and she is going with Matthew.
As we watch the game, my vision shifts to the older boy who I’ve had a crush on for several years now: Mason Worthington. He is as sexy as they come. Light brown hair—sometimes it looks dirty blonde when he’s in the sun—with a chiseled jaw, eyes that sparkle, and muscles on top of muscles.
I still haven't forgotten when he went to detention to take on a bully for me. I’m less awkward since my middle school days, but four years later I am still more of a nerd than most people .
We win the game 17-13. After it’s over, I am getting ready to head back to my house and change for the dance when Rex stops me in the parking lot.
"Hey," he says, lowered tone.
"Hey, yourself, what's going on?" I ask with a smile.
"I have some bad news."
My heart skips a beat. “Bad news?"
"Yes. So, Stacy and I were talking during the game.”
“Um...So?”
“I think I am going to go with her instead to homecoming."
I slump my shoulders, slinking down in horror.
"Ah, what? Why? What do you mean?"
He shrugs. "She is just more fun." Rex lowers his eyes, then brings them back up to me. "Plus, the party is at her house later so this way I'll get the invite for sure."
"Are you serious?" I cough, my jaw dropping.
"Yeah, look I am sorry but I gotta go, okay? I’ll talk to you later."
With that, he unceremoniously walks off. Not like we were full on dating or anything like that. But as I turn to my car, my anger turns to sadness. I put my head down and start to cry. I need it.
A moment later, I feel a hand on my shoulder.
"Go away,” I say. “You don't want me so I don't want you either."
"Hey, are you okay?" The deep, cheerful voice speaks, and instantly my ears perk up. I turn my head around and his gorgeous face is blurry. I swallow and wipe my eyes, doing my best to hide my tears.
"Oh, Mason," I say, trying to hide my surprise. “Hi.”
I can only imagine how terrifying and out of it my voice must sound.
"What are you doing?" he asks.
"Nothing.”
"Really? Because it looks like you’re crying."
"I am not crying," I say, tears in my voice.
"Hey, it's okay if you’re crying.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Just tell me what happened."
I wipe my tears and examine his kind face. Mason has a reputation as a heartbreaker and it’s easy to see why. He’s drop-dead gorgeous, even without his helmet and shoulder pads. Not to mention how good his ass looks when he is out there running around on the field. I take a deep breath and compose myself.
"Rex just dumped me," I say.
"Rex? The backup?"
A smile tugs at the corners of my lips at Mason’s not-so-subtle dig. "Yes, Rex the backup."
"He dumped you on homecoming day?" Mason’s jaw hangs open.
"He just did like five minutes ago.”
“What a dick!”
“I know. Tell me about it.”
“What are you going to do?"
"I don't know. I don't really care about the dance, but tonight I was excited for once. I was going to have a fun time, you know? And now I guess it's just back to my house where I'll escape with my books.”
"Fuck that," Mason says, definitively.
"Fuck that? What do you mean?"
"Not letting you do that today,” he says, his tone unquestionable.
My heart pounds faster. “What do you mean you’re ‘not letting me do that?’”
"We are going to do something cool today."
"What about you, aren't
you going to homecoming tonight?"
He shrugs. “I guess. Liam, Cole and I decided to go stag, but...I have a better idea of what we can do."
He gets this crazy look in his eye, and a devilish smile comes over his face. He snaps his fingers.
"Do you trust me?" he asks.
"I do because you’re friends with my brother... but yes, I trust you."
"Do you want to go on an adventure?"
"What kind of adventure?"
My heart starts to pound like a bass drum.
"It's a surprise," he says with a smirk.
He looks at his watch "Look, it’s two thirty now. Can you be ready at four?"
"Ready for what?"
"Just wear something comfortable and I'll come pick you up."
I swallow, pangs of nervousness rising up in my chest. "You are going to take me out on an adventure and you won't even tell me what."
"That's right."
I take a deep breath. In my heart, there is only one answer.
"Yes," I say. "I'll come.”
I’m nervous as I get ready and that’s when I realize something–I can’t leave the house on prom night without a dress, or else my mom will ask me where I’m going. I pack a duffel bag with a set of spare clothes and I wear my homecoming dress to the car.
As I wait on the doorstep. My mom sneaks up behind me.
“Hey, honey! Getting picked up, huh?”
“Yep! He’s gonna be here any minute now,” I say looking at my watch nervously.
“Well, well, you look good. You and Rex have a good time.”
Mason pulls in front of my mom’s car. He’s got a red, used sports car. It looks like an old Firebird. Not that I know that much about cars. He pulls up. My mom squints, trying to see who is on the street.
“Is that Rex’s car?” she asks. “Let me get my glasses. I can’t see who that is.”
“No that’s okay. I gotta go, Mom, talk to you later, bye,” I say in one long string of a sentence.
I shuffle out quickly, with my duffel bag in tow and hurry to jump in the car with Mason. My heart pounds.
Bartender with Benefits Page 5