Pretend You’re Mine

by Black, Natasha L.

  Naomi burst into a loud cheer as the shoe hit its intended target perfectly, bouncing right off the top of the dude’s bald head.

  He jumped up with a start and swore as he looked around to see what had happened. Realizing that he had shut down the machine, he pushed the button to get us started again.

  “You didn’t have to throw your shoe at me man,” he complained once we reached the bottom.

  “Well I wasn’t going to sit up there all day,” I shot back, retrieving my shoe and slipping it back on.

  Though her mood had lightened a bit, Naomi still looked sad.

  "I'm sorry about up there," Naomi said. “I shouldn’t have unloaded on you like that.”

  "Don't apologize," I said. “I’m sorry it brought back such shitty memories.”

  "I think we should just go,” she said suddenly.

  Whatever I’d been thinking in taking us there, it had been fun, but the moment was gone.

  “Okay,” I said.

  As I drove her home, the rain started coming down in earnest. The sky was heavy with ominous grey clouds and my windshield wipers were working overtime to clear my field of vision. As I drove, the silence stretched between us, and it was anything but comfortable. Suddenly, I couldn’t wait to get out of my damp clothes, to wash all remnants of the last hour from my skin. I had to get control of myself and my emotions or I was going to sink both of us.

  We pulled up in front of her building and she just sat there for a moment, staring straight out the windshield and saying nothing for a few moments.

  “Let me walk you to your door,” I said.

  She finally shook her head. "You don't have to do that."

  "I want to."

  Her gaze rested on me once more. "Goodbye Xander– and thank you for today."

  She stepped out of the car into the rain and was gone; into her building without a backward glance.

  I sat there for a minute or two. Waiting for what, I didn't know. She obviously wasn't coming back. I looked like a weirdo just sitting here.

  But I couldn’t bring myself to leave. What the hell was wrong with me? Sitting only made the pounding at my temples worse, so I pulled out and drove back home.

  In the kitchen, Walter fixed me with an accusatory look through his shaggy fur. Even though I knew that he’d already been walked by Paula, I still picked up his leash.

  One step outside a few minutes later, and even through Walter’s series of approving barks, I got that I was the one who’d needed this walk most.

  It was still raining, but I didn’t care. I took off down the path behind my building and tried my best to clear my head. I wove around puddles and tried to avoid stepping on the worms that had come up to catch the freshly wet soil. I stopped in the middle of the trail, when a rabbit hopped out and sat staring in my direction.

  “I’ve always been a rabbit person.”

  Was this some sort of sign? Don’t be ridiculous Xander, you don’t believe in that shit, I told myself.

  I made to continue on but, dejected at the rain, Walter had plopped down and was letting out a low dismal whine.

  "It's okay boy," I told him, although neither of us believed it.

  Gently tugging his leash did nothing so I picked up the wet bundle that he was and headed back the way we came.

  Back inside my house, Walter shook himself to ensure that I was as drenched as he was. Then, without a look back, he trotted off into the kitchen.

  I took out my phone, and before I knew what was that I was doing, Carlos’ voice was in my ear. “What’s up my man?”

  “I need a fucking drink,” I told him.

  Carlos chuckled. “You gonna tell my why you hauled ass out of the club last night?”

  “No,” I answered.

  “Fine. The Blue Door?”

  “On my way.”

  I smiled. That was how Carlos and I rolled – on the same page and to the point.

  We even got to the bar at practically the same time, fifteen minutes later.

  "You look like shit," Carlos said by way of greeting.

  "Thanks,” I replied. “You aren’t Jason Momoa yourself brother.”

  Carlos laughed. “I don’t have to be, I’ve got the British accent.”

  I nodded. He had a point. That fucking accent had cost me one too many girls since high school.” "So. What the hell man?" he asked as we sat at the bar.

  My attempt at catching the bartender’s eye was fruitless – she was determined in being pretend-busy dabbing uselessly at the back counter.

  "Just let me get a drink in me," I told him.

  Carlos lifted an invisible cup. "Here's to that."

  A few minutes later, we finally got two scotches. I downed mine in a matter of three efficient sips, while Carlos looked, on clearly impressed.

  "Either Walter went and jumped off a cliff, or something big happened."

  "Nothing big happened," I said, before realizing how full of shit I was. "Okay, so my family is in town… and I did this pretty crazy, very dumb thing."

  "You finally told them to fuck off?" Carlos said hopefully.

  Carlos knew my family about as well as I did, and he always had my back whenever shit got rough. I shook my head, exhaled. “It was about ten kinds of stupid – but I’ve just been so fucking tired of them always trying to set me up. So about two weeks ago, I met this girl at Babylon and we got super tanked and got hitched."

  Carlos stopped me there. "You didn't.”

  My hands folded together. "Unfortunately, I did. I’m a married man."

  Without a word, Carlos handed me his drink and I downed it. Then he ordered us four more.

  Only after I drank a whole other one did he finally say, "Damn."

  "Tell me about it," I said, staring at the bottom of the empty glass. I tried to smile but failed. "I convinced her to help me get them off my back while there here in town. To stay married and pretend it’s for real. It's worked pretty good so far too. My family loves her… But this girl… I swished the liquid around in the bottom of my glass. "Today we spent the day at Myers Carnival."

  Carlos put his cup down. I could feel his sidelong look testing my edges. "And before that?"

  “Spent the morning together, and the night before that too. More time than we probably should’ve. And I…."

  "You know what I'm going to say," Carlos said abruptly, cutting me off.

  Letting that line slide was no use, he cleared his throat and said, "That is why you called me."

  I reached for my glass and let my hand close around it. He was right. I’d just wanted to talk to someone who was sure of something, even if it dead against what was forming in my own head.

  "I like her," I said. "Like really like her… But she’s got some baggage man. And me…."

  "You aren’t a relationship guy," Carlos summed up.

  "Maybe," I said, "I just don't know where things are going now."

  "You're treading on dangerous ground my friend."

  I didn’t need to look at his face to know that it was probably in solidarity with his stern tone. Instead, my gaze wandered further into the bar, where there was the kind of happy couple that I normally didn’t notice.

  Right then, though, the way they were laughing and happy and all over each other in that so-easy way seemed to be twisting the knife deeper.

  "Not going to say much," Carlos was saying. "Just to be the fuck careful." His gaze had followed mine to the couple, almost as though he were speaking as much for them as for me. "You wouldn’t believe how abruptly and completely things can take a turn, go complete fucking 360 to hell without you ever seeing it coming."

  His lips twitched to the side. "Then again, maybe you should go hit up Penelope at our old house. Listen to her side of the story."

  I let that sit for a minute before peeling my gaze off the couple and returning it to Carlos. "I know your divorce was insane. But you have to admit, dude, you cheated on her."

  Carlos' eyes closed. "Yeah, what do you want me to
say? That it was the worst mistake of my fucking life? That I’d take it back in an instant? That after, my dear wife cleaned me out, financially, emotionally, literally?" His smile was terrifying. "Because it's true. All of it. It was a big fucking mistake." His gaze lifted to mine. "But here's the thing. Think about it, man, this world we live in, our biology, that and monogamy just don't go together.”

  His lips twisted. “Everyone acts like staying loyal and in love for years on end is just a fucking walk in the park, but it isn't. Relationships are hard. Being and staying in love, is hard. That's what Disney, and your parents, and all the fucking bullshit Hollywood movies won't tell you." He leaned in close. And in his face, I saw the truth of his words, how he felt. "But I will."

  There was nothing to say to that. Carlos might have been bitter, but he was right too. I was a divorce lawyer – if anyone knew how right he was, it was me.

  Even if it wasn’t cheating that ultimately ruined the relationship, it was some dumb argument over money or some little straw that broke the camel’s back.

  And yet, I couldn't quite just sit there and let Carlos’ words stay. They just didn’t seem to ring true where Naomi was concerned.

  "I don't know, man," I said.

  Carlos' face showed no expression. "Yeah, and I do.” He made a wistful sound as he shook his head. “You know, I know you think this thing with your chick could work despite every piece of evidence you’ve seen over and over again to the contrary."

  His head lifted and that was even worse, his vacant, distant expression, somewhere in the past. "Penelope and I were together for twelve years. Twelve years, and all down the toilet because one drunken mistake one night." Another bitter head shake. "It's not worth it. If I had been living differently, taken a different path, focused on my business, on myself, having all the experiences I sacrificed instead, to be with her … all the other women.…" One final, definitive nod. "Let's just say that you'd be seeing a very different Carlos today."

  We sat there, sipping at the last of our drinks. Carlos was right. I was being stupid about this Naomi business.

  "You going to say hi?" Carlos motioned further down the bar, where two brunettes with little confections of crop tops were eyeing us.

  "No," I said. "You?"

  A long pause. Carlos drained his cup, then shook his head. "Nope."

  A smirk passed between us, and Carlos clinked his glass against mine, saying, "Well, here's to that."

  15

  Naomi

  Xander called me to invite me out with his family to some theatre show the next day. Relief was the first thing I’d felt when I saw his name appear on my phone. I had been a bit dramatic at the end of our carnival date, even if things with him had been getting to me.

  On our way there, Xander got a call from his dad. He pulled over, and I looked out the window, so it wouldn’t seem like I was eavesdropping, even though there was no way I couldn’t hear from a foot and a half away. Their conversation was brief, though, and when Xander hung up, he was scowling.

  “What is up with you and your dad?” I asked, without thinking.

  Shit. I hadn’t planned on saying anything – it wasn’t really my place – but the question had just slipped out.

  Xander’s scowl was settling on his face. “What do you mean?”

  “Just….” I frowned. “You don’t seem to get along very well. You almost look offended by his presence more often than not.”

  He pulled back onto the road. “He was just calling to make sure we were on our way.”

  His cool tone and the way he returned his gaze to the road, as though dismissing me, made my hands clamp into fists in my lap. So I didn’t need to know the whole story, but did he have to be an asshole about it?

  “Sorry,” I muttered. “I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business.”

  Xander sighed. “No, I’m sorry. It’s just a sore subject, and one I don’t particularly feel like getting into right now.”

  I nodded, but said nothing, turning to look out the window.

  I was happy for the silence that accompanied us all the way to the theatre. Even if I’d crossed the line with talking about his dad, Xander didn’t have to be such a dick about it. Anyway, if Xander wanted to play hot and cold, then I was fine with cold.

  Once there, ten or so minutes later, we took our time going in. The interior was gorgeous and we spent some time admiring it. The city had just recently renovated the space, and it definitely showed.

  They had panoramic windows stretching up the whole front of the façade, along with a chic modern interior that had marble floors that made your shoes clop as you walked. Every next person we passed looked more like a model from a Chanel magazine than the last – avant-garde dresses, pointlessly high shoes.

  And then there was me with my nice, but nowhere near chic, black silk dress.

  I was completely enthralled with the various fashions and outrageous signs of wealth that surrounded us, but Xander seemed not to notice. In fact, he seemed bored by it all as he reached down to take my hand and guide me through the crowd.

  The way his fingers were intertwined with mine made me wish for the briefest of moments that what we had could go on. But it couldn’t, and I knew that. I just wish I hadn’t needed so damn much reminding. This was just an arrangement.

  After we gave our names to a woman with an overly exaggerated smile at the front desk, she pointed us down the hall to where Xander’s family was waiting.

  A minute or so later we were in the spacious private box his family had booked to view the play from. Already, there were oysters and cocktails being served by two pleasant-looking servers.

  “Xander! Naomi!” Xander’s dad said, his belly straining against his shirt buttons as he rushed over to give us hugs. Xander’s reaction as his arms closed around his dad revealed little.

  “Glad to be here. Thank you for the invite,” Xander said.

  There was something forceful about his words. As he drew back and Xander’s mother came up to greet us, I noticed someone standing at the edge of the group. Several people were looking at her out of the corner of their eyes and speaking in hushed whispers amongst themselves. She looked like a young Catherine Zeta-Jones, although her hair was lighter and curlier. Basically, she was the most gorgeous woman I’d seen in a very long time.

  After we said our hellos to several members of the family, the mystery was explained. Xander’s father nudged his son. “You remember Alliana, don’t you?”

  Xander smiled, this one real. “Of course I remember Alliana.” He looked her up and down. “Although the last time I saw you, you were a good head shorter and not so…” he swallowed. “Grown up.”

  Alliana smiled. “Ten years is a long time.”

  My heart tumbled down into the pit of my stomach. Great. So this chick wasn’t just a cousin who’d shown up late to the party. She was someone from his past. And she was smoking hot.

  I barely noticed Xander doing the token introduction of me and shaking Alliana’s thin hand. Instead, all I saw was everything ebbing away from me.

  Xander and Alliana, chuckling and chatting about the past. The rest of the family beaming over the two.

  I grabbed a nearby oyster and shoved in my face.

  Then I wandered over in search of the cocktails. Xander had told his family that we were married, and yet some mysterious hottie from his past shows up, ushered right up to him by his father? I was starting to see what Xander’s problem with his dad might be. I looked around the room and wondered just how much more fucked up this day was going to get.

  As I sipped my cocktail, I didn’t try to go back to Xander. It seemed as though, in a few short seconds, everything had changed. Suddenly, I was here as a ghost, to watch the proceedings and not interfere in the slightest. I stayed like that, hanging on the edge of the group, sipping my drink until it was done and then seeking out another.

  I tried not looking at Xander, at not allowing every time he laughed or smiled with her jab
at me, at hoping he’d come over, remember me. I grabbed another drink and turned around several moments later. When I glanced over their way again and saw neither was anywhere to be seen.

  This can’t be happening. He can’t have left with her, could he? a small voice in me said.

  From out of nowhere, Aunt Edna appeared like a hawk settling on its prey. “Are you alright dear? You look horribly peaked.”

  I resisted the urge to tell her that, now that she mentioned it, I felt like a skeleton with half its bones rearranged. Instead I said, “I’m fine, thank you,” and downed my drink in one mighty go, walking out of the box.

  Where the fuck was my husband?

  16

  Xander

  “You and Alliana seem to be getting on nicely,” Papa said pointedly.

  “Yes,” I said. “Is that what this is about?”

  He’d asked to speak to me in an enclave in the lobby in private.

  “Can’t a man just want to talk to his son?”

  I eyed him. “Why is she here, Papa?”

  He transferred his weight from one foot to the other. “It was very sudden, you know. This whole surprise marriage of yours. You gave us no warning. None whatsoever.”

  My glare didn’t budge off him. “Why is she here?” I asked again, flatly.

  Papa’s cheeks flushed. “You can hardly blame us, can you? You and Alliana were such good friends when you were younger, and she recently broke up with her boyfriend, so the timing…”

  “Was wrong,” I said, irritation spiraling through me. “I have a wife now.”

  “Yes, about that,” Papa began as if this was all some slight misunderstanding. “You know, we all love Naomi. But Alliana’s father owns Mercury Enterprises and she comes from a good family.”

  “What does that have to do with my wife and me?” I asked.

  My gaze on him was guarded now. Did Papa somehow know the truth about Naomi’s and my sham marriage – was that why he thought it was ok to do this, to foist Alliana on me as if I were a free man?