Playing Pretend

by Juliana Haygert

  “You don’t know that,” I whispered.

  My mother’s eyes hardened. “You are going to take Donnie out to dinner and you are going to have a good time with him.” The hard tone in her voice brought goose bumps to my arms.

  I lowered my head, my stomach sinking. “Yes, Mother.”

  ***

  Charlotte

  I descended the stairs with a fake smile on my face. In the foyer, I greeted my mother and Donnie.

  Donnie’s smile was real. “You look beautiful.”

  The same compliment every time he saw me. Could he change the record? I knew I looked okay. I had gotten ready to look good. I even chose an elegant cocktail dress my mother approved for me to wear. I was politician-taste appropriate.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  He offered me his arm. I took it and walked outside with him.

  “Have a good night,” my mother said from the top of the stairs.

  My stomach still revolved each time I thought about what I was doing, so I tried to focus my attention on something else—like the fountain before my house and its glistening water. Or how shiny Donnie’s Mercedes looked under the moonlight.

  Anything, everything not to think I was going out with Donnie, while all I wanted to do was find Mason and kiss him senseless.

  Damn, I was so lost.

  I pushed Mason from my thoughts. I had been raised to be a perfect lady. At least on the outside. No one in the world knew what was going on inside.

  The smile never left my face as Donnie led me to the car, opened the door, and helped me in. I still smiled as we rode to the restaurant and sat down at our reserved table.

  “You look happy today,” Donnie said, his pale blue eyes shining.

  Wow, I had never noticed how beautiful his eyes were. True, I hadn’t noticed much of him at all.

  “Yes,” I lied. I picked up the menu and ran my eyes over it, even though I already knew what I would order.

  Okay, this wasn’t right. I had agreed to this date so I could give him a chance, so he could sweep me off my feet, so I could forget Mason, and so I could live the life my mother wanted me to.

  I set down the menu. “How have you been?”

  His face brightened. “I’m great. I’m here with you. Work has been great too.” He launched into a detailed retelling of his week and what he was working on with his father.

  All the while, I nodded and made sounds like uh and ah whenever it seemed appropriate. Like my mother, Donnie seemed all too happy to talk about politics. He easily got carried away, and I had to endure it. Like everything else in my life. Just endure it.

  During dessert, I tried finding out more about him. “Do you have any hobbies?”

  “I play golf.”

  “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 bee
n 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 Donni
e, 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.”