by Avery James
"You're kidding, right? Your biggest problems? You're beautiful, blond and engaged to a billionaire. We just cut your bachelorette party short before it even began so you could spend the night with him. What am I missing?"
Callie shook her head. "I feel guilty, OK? We've been roommates for five years, and I've moved out, leaving you on the hook for our lease just as you lost your job. I feel responsible. You could at least let me pay off the rest of the lease."
Charlotte crossed her arms and leaned back. "No," she said. "You are not responsible for anything or anyone but yourself, and I'm going to be fine. I don't need you to solve all my problems for me."
"But I'm really good at it!" Callie protested.
Charlotte couldn't deny that fact. In the five years they had spent as roommates, Charlotte had watched her best friend become one of the best crisis managers in the country. If you had a problem, Callie was the one you wanted solving it. Even so, Charlotte wasn't about to admit she needed help. She would figure out something on her own. She always did. "So what's the second problem? Charlotte asked.
"Jack's image problem."
"He looks pretty good from here," Charlotte said, cracking a smile and looking back across the room.
"Not that kind of image problem. Our polling numbers show that people worry about his status as a bachelor. His family's reputation for excess doesn't exactly help much either. So when people see a handsome, successful, single man, they start to ask questions."
"I know I do," Charlotte said. "Please talk to him. It would make my night. Who knows, you might like him. It's perfect. He's Logan's best man. You're my maid of honor. He even lives near us."
"Oh wow!" Charlotte said. She choked down her sarcasm without another word. It was Callie's night, and Charlotte wanted to make her happy. What harm would it do to talk to him? She took a deep breath. "Fine. I'll talk to him. I'm not making any promises though."
Callie jumped over to Charlotte and hugged her. "You're the best!" She grabbed Charlotte's hand and tugged her across the room. "You're going to love him."
"Right," Charlotte said. She tried to think of what she should say next, but before she could do anything, Callie had tapped Jack on the shoulder.
"Jack, there's someone Logan and I want you to meet."
Chapter 2
Charlotte caught Jack's glance as he spun around. Up close, that calming glow she had seen from across the bar changed to a twinkle in his eyes. There was something inviting about that look, something intimate that drew Charlotte in immediately. His cheeks folded back into a warm, practiced smile, but his eyes — there was something about them that drew Charlotte in, something that made her want to know more about him.
Jack held out his hand. "Nice to meet you, I'm Jack Coburn," he said.
How many people see that look in his eyes on a daily basis? Charlotte wondered. It had to be in the hundreds. How many people does he meet and forget just as quickly? It had to be almost all of them. Charlotte took his hand. "Hi, so Callie just told me that I'm apparently going to be your wife." Charlotte held her breath as she waited for his reaction.
Jack's eyes widened, and he choked down a gulp of his drink. "Uhh," he said. He looked over to Callie and Logan to see whether or not Charlotte was serious. When they didn't react, he searched for something to say. "I guess a handshake is a little impersonal then, isn't it?" he added, cracking a smile.
"We have to start somewhere, I guess. I'm Charlotte Crowley," she said, her hand still resting in his. She pretended for a moment like she was one of those people who believed in the power of a firm handshake, and she shook his hand vigorously while staring him in the eye. After about ten seconds, she joined Jack in looking to Callie for any way to break the awkward moment.
"Jack Coburn at a loss for words," Callie said. "Logan, can you believe this?"
"Let's get out of the way before he thinks of something witty," Logan said. He wrapped his arm around Callie and headed back toward the bar.
"Looks like it's just you and me," Jack said. He slipped his hand from hers and gestured to the door. "Would you like to come for a walk with me? I like to at least talk to my wives before we marry."
It was an interesting offer. "Don't you have a security detail or something we'll have to duck?"
"I'm a congressman. There are hundreds of us buzzing around the city. Other than a few photographers who want pictures of Baby Jack, the last living golden boy of America's Favorite Political Dynasty, no one really cares who I am."
"Baby Jack?" Charlotte asked.
"My family is in the press a lot. In the year I was born, they were in it even more. It's kind of a long story, and I don't want to bore you with the details, but just know that for my entire life, people have expected great things of me, and just as many people have eagerly waited for me to fail or to disgrace myself somehow. I took over my father's seat in Congress, and now everyone wants me to do what he hadn't been able to do. Everybody wants to be famous, but they have no idea how terrible the press can be."
"Then why bother getting engaged? Surely, it'll lead to even more press."
"They want a story. They don't care what it is. They just need something to publish. I need a wife, you need whatever it is you need, and they need photos of me with a beautiful woman. If we do this, everyone wins, not that I'm saying we're doing this, more as a hypothetical."
"Did you just call me beautiful?" Charlotte asked. "You know, for someone this smooth, you'd think you wouldn't need to hire a wife."
Jack looked around and lowered his voice. "Maybe it would be better if we didn't phrase it like that. I asked Amy and Callie to make arrangements for me specifically so I could avoid all of the baggage that comes with a traditional relationship."
"Baggage… You think finding the person you're meant to be with is baggage? You can't really believe that."
"I just think that people are so desperate to be in love that they'll lie to themselves to be happy for a while. I don't want to do that."
"Everyone, no matter how hard they try to hide it, wants to find love. Usually those who try hardest to seem uninterested are the ones who want love the most."
"Walk with me and I'll convince you otherwise," Jack said.
Charlotte looked across the room at Callie and Logan. They were laughing about something and looking at each other in complete contentment. Charlotte turned her attention back to Jack. "You have twenty minutes."
Jack led her out through the back exit of the bar into one of the countless alleys that crisscrossed the city. The sun had set, and the brick kiln that was Georgetown in summer had cooled to the point where it was actually pleasant to walk. Jack nodded up toward the street. "Before someone thinks we're up to no good, let's get going."
"I thought that was exactly what we were up to," Charlotte said.
"Yeah, but that's no reason for anyone to know. Let's just look like a couple on a lovely first date," he said. "I know a spot by the river with benches and a view. It's crowded during the day, but at this time of night, we should have it more or less to ourselves. Take my hand again, and I'll show you the way."
Charlotte stopped for a moment and thought it through. It had been a long time since she had been on a real date. And she had certainly never been on one with someone like Jack. She felt a little tremble in her hand as she thought about it. Suddenly, she was all nerves, and she didn't want him to know. The sound of the crowds on M Street echoed off of the buildings, and she could smell the sweet smoke from a wood oven somewhere nearby. Instead of taking his hand, she said, "Callie made it sound like you'd sweep me off my feet and show me the secret world of the DC elite."
"I mean, I'd have to teach you the secret handshake first," Jack said, "but, even then, no one would believe you were a member of the club. Not looking like that anyway."
Did he really just make fun of my dress? Charlotte wondered. "Some of us have to live in the real world and don't have unlimited budgets or tailors on call."
Jack backed
up and held his hands in front of him. "No, no, I didn't mean it like that at all. I just meant that you look too… nice, too wholesome for all of the DC politics stuff. We'd have to harden you first. It was supposed to be a compliment. Sometimes I forget that not everyone is jaded and cynical. That's all."
"I guess I understand why you're still single," Charlotte said. Based off the concern in his voice, she believed him, but she liked having a chance to keep him a little off-balance. It seemed like the only leverage she had in their current situation. She nodded forward and started walking as Jack hurried to keep up with her.
"How about we try again?" Jack said. "Amy and Callie speak very highly of you."
"Come on. They worry that I'll end up homeless in a gutter without their help. Have you even heard my name before tonight?"
Jack cracked a smile and shook his head. "No, but now that I know it, I promise I won't forget. So why do the Haven sisters think you need their help?"
"To be honest, they think that about everyone." Charlotte loved Callie like a sister, but Callie could be overbearing at times. Callie's actual sister, Amy, was even worse. Charlotte just wanted to take care of her own problems without anyone else's assistance.
"Why you, though?" Jack asked.
"I got laid off, and I've been too busy helping out with the wedding to find a new job. I was an assistant editor at a small literary press. I loved the job, but it was never exactly going to make me rich, not that I care about that. I've been thinking about changing careers and trying something new, but I don't know if I'm ready to strike out on my own. And now that Callie moved out, I need to find a new roommate."
"Naturally, they thought of me," Jack said.
Callie laughed. "No offense, but you're not exactly the kind of roommate I'm looking for. I don't know why they think the answer to all of life's problems is to get hitched."
"Wouldn't it solve your problems though?"
"I'm 29," Charlotte said. "Do I really want to spend the best years of my life pretending to be someone's wife, giving up any shot I have at finding real love?"
"What would you rather do instead?" Jack asked.
"Open my own small press, write a book, end up homeless in the gutter — I have options."
"Well, that would be a shame," Jack said.
"I'm not actually going to end up sleeping in a gutter. My best friend owns a mansion in the middle of Georgetown. My parents would welcome me back home in a heartbeat. Sure, it's nothing compared to the life of the Jack Coburn, but I have options. Alright, enough about me, why don't you tell me something about yourself that no one else knows."
Jack looked around. He spoke as if he was telling her the scoop of the century, a boyish grin on his face. "There are things about my past you can't know, parts of my personal life that are off limits. It's something that wouldn't be a fair thing to ask in a traditional marriage, which is why I'm not asking for one. I'm asking you to spend time with me, and in return, I'll help you do whatever you want afterward."
"Well, Mr. Mysterious, that's the opposite of telling me something no one else knows."
"Fine," Jack said, his hands up almost in defense, "I'm a terrible liar. I hate lying. I hate holding back any little bit of information. It eats me up inside. I hate the grind of DC, and I hate asking you to do this, but yet, here I am." He ended with another grin, but this one more hesitant, as if waiting to see what her reaction would be.
She laughed, "You've got to be kidding! You lie for a living. You're asking me to help you lie so you can win an election. She smiled and looked up at him, her eyes narrowing, her lips pursed, "and you're not being very persuasive, by the way."
"See?" Jack said, throwing his hands in the air, "I'm terrible at it. If I were good, we'd already be planning our honeymoon and picking out baby names." He grinned and looked into Charlotte's eyes.
"Emma," Charlotte said.
"What?" Jack asked.
"My first child will be named Emma." She looked down at the cobblestone path, as if to carefully watch her steps, trying to figure out what it was that had made her reveal that personal bit of information.
"What if he's a boy?"
She laughed. "My first child will be a girl, and she will be named Emma."
"How about Zelda?"
Charlotte shook her head. "Like Zelda Fitzgerald? Nonstarter."
"It was my grandmother's name," Jack said. "She hated Zelda Fitzgerald, too, if it makes you feel any better. I think she looked at my grandmother the wrong way at a dinner party or something."
"I don't care whose name it was," Charlotte said. She stopped walking for a second. Why was she even bothering to discuss this? Callie would be happy that she was talking to him. Wasn't that enough? "I'm not arguing about this with you. I'm pretty sure I'm not the one you're looking to marry."
"I need someone who doesn't want to marry me," Jack said. He took a few steps forward and Charlotte followed him.
"Ahh, is that why I'm the perfect match? "
"The polls say I need a wife. My consultants say I need a wife. My opponent, who, by the way, has no morals or ethics of any kind, is going to run ads of his beautiful, smiling children playing with his goddamned perfectly groomed golden retriever while he and his wife hold hands in the background. Then he's going to run ads calling me a frat boy and a dilettante. I need a wife, one who will go with the program, one who isn't some Washington insider, and one who understands that I'm not looking to fall in love."
"Sounds like you have your work cut out for you, Jack." Charlotte looked up and realized that they had reached the riverfront. Jack grew quiet and walked over to the edge of the water. The reflections of the lights across the river shimmered on the surface of the black water, and the sounds of the city had faded away some. For the first time that night, Charlotte felt like she and Jack were truly alone. He had that grin on his face again. Why did he have that look on his face again? "What, did I say?" she asked.
"You answered that baby name question in an instant," Jack said. "How long have you had your daughter's name picked out?" He motioned to the only clean park bench that faced the water.
"Long time," Charlotte said, taking a seat. "Who doesn't dream about what their kids will be like?"
Jack settled in next to her. "I don't." He looked out over the water. "I don't want kids ever. Full stop."
"Oh no. What if this is our first big fight as newlyweds? What happens if you're such a catch that I can't bear to spend another day without having your babies?" Charlotte nudged Jack playfully, but he seemed lost in his head.
"Moot point," Jack said. "One of the things in life I'm sure of is that I will never let myself have kids."
"Think they'll tie you down?" Charlotte looked out at the water, too, wondering what Jack was looking for out there, if anything.
"No, I just don't think I could be the kind of father they'd deserve. I don't think people give much thought to it. I'd be a terrible husband and father, Charlotte. I'm always working. I never have down time, and I'm constantly pulled in a hundred directions at once. Kids need their parents to be there, and I know I couldn't be. So even if I wanted kids, I wouldn't have them."
"Something tells me you'd do just fine at both," Charlotte said.
"Look, you seem like a genuinely nice person." Jack finally turned back and looked into Charlotte's eyes. "If you don't want to do this marriage thing, I completely understand. Believe it or not, I'm not thrilled that it has to come to this either, but it would solve both of our problems. I work long hours. I'm hardly ever home, and I have a relatively vast family fortune to drawn upon. And, when I'm not being ambushed with proposals from attractive redheads, I can be pretty good company. So, how about you think it over?"
"I'm not making any promises," Charlotte said. There it was again — the flash of something genuine inside Jack that made her want to know more. Just a hint of vulnerability that made her think that maybe he had more to offer than he was letting on.
"Let's keep going," he
said. He held out his hand and rose. "Don't leave me wondering what could have been." Before Charlotte knew what she was doing, she was walking through the streets of Georgetown hand in hand with Jack. And, before long, she was actually enjoying his company. Somewhere in their winding walk back to Logan's bar, they had crossed the line from awkward set-up to something actually resembling a date. They kept talking about the improbability of Callie and Logan's relationship, about their shared dislike of reality television, about a hundred other small things. Before long, they found themselves back across the street from where they had started. The sounds from inside Logan's bar made it seem like the combined bachelor/bachelorette party had kicked into high gear.
Charlotte knew that she needed to get back to Callie, but she didn't know what to say to Jack. "Don't you wish you had someone to spend time with for real?" she asked.
"What wasn't real about our walk?" Jack said. "Just because I'm being honest with you about what I need doesn't mean our time together isn't real. Why shouldn't that be enough? It's not like we're missing anything."
"Not missing anything? If I agree to go through with this whole thing, we'd both miss out on the chance of finding the people we're supposed to spend our lives with. What if I'm supposed to meet the perfect guy but can't because I'm fake married to you?"
"I hate to break it to you," Jack said, "but there's no such thing as a perfect guy."
"I guess we'll find out," Charlotte said. She pulled her hand away from his. "I should really get back to Callie."
Chapter 3
Newport after Labor Day was quiet. It was like the whole town was sleeping off the collective hangover of yet another over-indulgent summer. The crowds were gone, but the heat had stayed. Jack wiped the sweat from his brow and hoped, for Logan's and Callie's sake, that the next night would be cooler. At least Logan's brewery had air conditioning, but the chill inside had sent Jack right back out into the late afternoon heat. The brewery sat at the end of wharf overlooking the harbor, and Jack leaned over the railing of the deck, watching the sunlight glint off of the water.
