“That’s just background noise,” Liana said to her mother.
“You know, so you can’t hear the dirty things we’re talking about,” MaryAnn said, winking.
Joan shook her head. “Girls, girls. Keep that up and I might start spying on you.”
“No, you won’t,” Liana said. “You trust us.”
“Oddly enough, I do.” Joan grabbed a pillow from the floor and tossed it at us. “I need to go to the grocery store. Anyone want something from there?”
“Handsome, hot, honest, and faithful men?” MaryAnn asked.
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m afraid we don’t find those on sale,” Joan teased.
“Too bad,” Becca said.
Joan chuckled. “All right. I’ll be back in a bit. Behave.”
“Always,” Liana said.
Joan disappeared through the kitchen door and MaryAnn turned to me. “Where were we? Oh yeah, the size. Spill!”
I rolled my eyes and hid under one of the pillows.
***
Mason
Only two things could make me happier now: to find a job in a good company, and to see more of Charlotte.
I had been called for an interview for one of the entry-level jobs I had applied for, but hadn’t heard back yet. In a few days, it would be August, and a couple of weeks later, classes would start and I would work at the university, but working outside the school would pay much better. I had to be called for a job before classes started.
As for Charlotte, I saw her three or four times a week, but that didn’t seem enough. That didn’t feel like enough anymore.
“Hey.” David nudged his elbow on my arm.
“What?” I turned to him.
He gestured to the controller in my hand and the TV. “You just stopped playing. Where’s your head? Wait. Don’t answer. I know. On Charlotte.”
“Well …”
“I know. You’re always thinking about her. If she was my girl, I would think about her all the time too, so you’re forgiven.”
I couldn’t decide between feeling proud or wanting to punch him.
My cell phone rang, saving him from a probably punch, and I reached for it. A smile spread across my face when I saw Charlotte’s name on the screen.
“Lovebirds,” David muttered.
I flipped him off and answered the phone. “Hey, baby,” I said, standing up and walking to my bedroom.
“Hey. Are you working Saturday night?”
I glanced at the calendar on my wall. It was Wednesday and I worked every goddamn night this week. “Yeah, but I have the early shift, so only until one. Why?”
“My mother has an event in Washington this Saturday. She wants me to come with her, so I was thinking about telling her that I was going out with Tracy after the event, and actually go to your apartment.”
Sneaking wasn’t my preferred method, but if it was the only way to be with her, then so be it. Besides, how could any reason compete with the freaking marching band act my heart performed each time I set eyes on her?
My smile widened. “I would really like that.”
***
Charlotte
The event was downright boring.
Donnie and his father were there and stayed close to us all evening.
I carefully avoid talking about going out with Tracy later, in the hopes that my mother wouldn’t tell him to go with me. No such luck.
“Donnie, did you know Charlotte is meeting Tracy later? They are going to some club. You should go with them.”
I groaned on the inside. “No, Mother. He can’t go.”
She turned her cold stare to me as if I had insulted Donnie in public. “Why not?”
“It’s a girls’ night out. Only girls. No guys allowed,” I explained.
“Ah, what a shame,” she said. “But you could let the name of the club slip, couldn’t you? And Donnie could meet you there by accident.”
Donnie smiled his million-volt smile at me. “I like that idea.”
Oh, crap. “Tracy would kill me.”
“She wouldn’t know,” my mother insisted.
“Oh, she would,” I said, ready to lie about Tracy having a crazy impulse to strangulate her best friends who brought dates to girls’ night out. Thankfully, another senator joined our circle and engaged everyone in another subject, saving me.
I watched as a few couples danced in the center of the ballroom, in tune with the romantic song the band played on stage.
Donnie touched my arm. “Want to dance?”
Not really.
“Of course she wants to,” my mother said, rudely cutting off whatever Senator Williams was saying. “She would love to.”
She gave me a look with murder written all over it.
I gulped and let Donnie guide me to the dance floor.
Not long now. Just hang in there for another half an hour. You can do it.
Donnie caught my right hand with his left one, and then rested his right hand politely on my waistline. With a smile, he led, swaying us around the dance floor.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
Broken record. “Thanks.”
“It’s a shame I can’t come to Tracy’s party, but we should do something else. Maybe tomorrow?” He paused, probably waiting for an answer. Well, he wasn’t getting any. “We could go out for lunch. Or catch a movie. Or have a picnic.”
“I’m—”
I felt my phone vibrating on the hidden pocket of my skirt. I dropped Donnie’s hand and reached for it.
Mason: Good news. I was able to get out early. Going home now.
I couldn’t help the smile that spread over my lips.
“May I ask who is it?” Donnie asked.
“It’s, hmm, Tracy. She’s asking me to go meet her now. Why?”
He stared at me, more serious than I had ever seen him. “I was just wondering who had the power to make you smile that way.”
I chuckled nervously. “Tracy is my best friend. She makes me smile all the time.”
“That’s good. I’m glad you like her so much.”
“I do,” I said. “Hmm, I should probably go now. Thanks for the dance.”
I walked away from him.
“Anytime,” he said, but I didn’t acknowledge it.
I fought against the urge to run out of there. Instead, I held it together while I warned my mother that I was leaving, then walked out like Miss America and waited for the valet to bring my car to me. But once inside my car, I closed my eyes for a second and mentally let everything go, only focusing on Mason and how happy he made me.
***
Charlotte
Something moved under me and I woke up. Mason’s heavy arm was draped around my waist and his face was tilted to me.
I smiled, but only until my eyes fell on the clock on the nightstand. It was 4 a.m.
“Oh, shit,” I said, scrambling off the bed.
“Hmm, what?” Mason asked, his voice heavy with sleep. “Wait, baby, where you’re going?”
I fumbled for my clothes on the floor. “To the hotel. I have to get there before my mother wakes, or she’ll have my skin.”
“But you’re supposed to be at Tracy’s.” He sat up. The sheets slipped off him, revealing his taut chest and abdomen, and for a moment, I considered sending my mother to hell.
I picked up my dress and started to put it on. “No. When she’s in town, she expects me to sleep at the hotel.”
He stood, in all his naked glory, and I gaped, totally forgetting what I was doing. The corners of his lips tugged up and he walked to me, his gaze so intense, it made my body heat up. He curled his fingers around my waist and pulled me to him.
“I really wish you could stay,” he whispered, his breath washing over my mouth.
“Me too,” I said, standing on my toes. I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down to me. His mouth met mine and his lips opened instantly, allowing my tongue in.
He groaned, deepening the kiss. He slid his hands down my hips
and around my thighs, pulling my legs up and around him. He backed us up until my back was pressed against the cold wall. He briefly broke the kiss, and with deft hands, pulled my dress over my head. He threw it aside and then his hands were on me again, his mouth on mine, and then he was inside me and all I could think was that I never wanted to leave his side.
***
Charlotte
I halted before the closed doors and took my shoes off. I ran the key card, the light blinked green, and I pushed the door open, careful with each and every sound I made.
I closed the door behind me and took a step.
“Where have you been?”
I froze. Oh, shit. “Out. With Tracy.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“W-what? I was.”
“I called Tracy. I wanted to know where you two were going so Donnie could be there too. Tracy said she never scheduled anything with you for this weekend, which means you lied to me.” My stomach dropped. Holy crap. “With that hair of yours, I’m guessing you were in someone’s bed.”
My mouth fell open. “W-what? Of course not.”
She marched until she was right in my face. “Do not lie to me.”
I actually flinched from her harsh tone, but I wasn’t a kid. She couldn’t do this to me anymore. I raised my chin and met her eyes. “You know what? It’s none of your business.”
Her hand smacked my face so hard, my head whipped to the side and my cheek exploded with pain, pain that spread over my face.
“It is my business. Everything you do, everything you think is my business.” She just looked at me, her eyes burning with anger and frustration. “If your father were alive, he would have died of disappointment right now.”
I pressed my hand over my cheek, willing the throbbing ache to go away. “Don’t put this on my father.”
“This isn’t what he would want for you, Charlotte. You know that. It isn’t what I want for you either. You can have everything in this world. Don’t throw your bright future away.”
Everything but my future. “You’re talking as if a bomb had exploded.”
“It could well be a bomb. You don’t know what this man is going to do.” She shook her head. “I raised you better than this, Charlotte. I thought I could trust you. I thought you had a good head on your shoulders.”
“I do!”
She shook her head again and I swear the glint in her eyes was murderous. “This escapade better not be in every newspaper tomorrow morning. I swear I’ll kill you if I find a picture of you with some random guy.”
“It’s not like—”
“Does he know who you are?”
“W-what?”
“The man you slept with. Does he know who you are?”
“Oh my God, I’m not hearing this.”
“If he does, I hope he’s discreet, because so help me, if he tells anyone about this, if it leaks and turns into gossip that will end up in the newspaper, I’ll kill you. And him too. You betrayed my trust. How long have you been doing this? How many times have you lied to me like this? Do you just pick any man at random? Like what? Your boy toys?”
“Do you hear yourself?”
“Oh, Lord. And I always thought you were with Tracy. You can ruin our lives. You can ruin my career. You can ruin your career. I won’t allow it.”
“My career?”
“I should put bodyguards on you to follow your every move.”
“What? No!”
She halted and watched me with those hawk eyes of hers. “I guess it’s too late to fix this now. If this man wanted to tell someone, it’s already been done. He better remain quiet.”
What I was supposed to tell her? I wouldn’t talk to her about Mason when she was determined to think he was a boy toy. “Mother—”
“But be warned,” she cut me off. “I won’t tolerate this kind of behavior anymore. Do as I tell you or you’ll have bodyguards following your every move. And the first thing I am telling is this: You won’t be seeing this man anymore.”
Chapter Eighteen
Mason
I brought my coffee to my lips and the doorbell rang. I almost spilled the whole thing on me. Christ, it was ten in the morning. Didn’t people know I went to bed at four last night? Unless it was Charlotte, then I wouldn’t mind at all. We could crawl into bed together and I could nap on her arms. Nothing sounded better.
But she had been here yesterday, and I knew she had some event to attend today with her mother—most Saturdays were busy for her. Maybe she had escaped.
The bell rang again and I marched to the door.
I opened it and froze.
“Hello, Mr. Rowell,” Donnie said. “May I come in?”
I recovered from my shock and put on a pretend act. “Who are you?”
“You know very well who I am. But you see, I also know who you are.” He examined me with something like disgust in his eyes, and I gulped. Fuck. He knew about Charlotte and me. “Now may I come in?”
***
Charlotte
I strolled to class on Monday with gusto. After all, it was the last class before finals and then goodbye summer semester, hello three weeks of vacation.
I checked my phone as I sat in my usual seat. Three days of sharing only messages and quick calls with Mason weren’t enough. I needed to find a way to see him soon.
After a boring lecture, the professor dismissed us and I walked out of the classroom, checking my phone again.
As I looked at the screen, messages from Liana, MaryAnn, and Becca exploded in my inbox. Five. Ten. Fifteen. Fifty in less than a minute. What the hell?
My belly growled. It was past lunchtime and I was starving. I would check and respond to those messages when I got home. My mother wouldn’t be there, but our cook was supposed to have lunch ready for me.
I stepped out of the building, intent on marching to the parking garage as fast as I could, and noticed how campus was too crowded for a Monday, or any other day or time of the week during the summer semester.
Every student was looking at me, whispering to his or her friends, pointing at me. A few of them spied at cell phones or tablets or newspapers, and then turned his or her judging gaze at me.
Uh-oh.
My cell phone rang, but I didn’t check it either. Whatever it was, I wasn’t going to stand here and find out. My mother had drilled me about this once.
“Just get out of there,” my mother had said. “Get to your car and drive away, or find somewhere safe and hide. Only then you stop to see what’s happening.”
With my heartbeat speeding out of control, I lowered my head and rushed my steps. As the seconds passed, the crowd grew, and the whispering grew louder.
“Miss McClain!”
Oh, shit. I didn’t have to turn to know that a wave of reporters had landed on campus and was now in pursuit.
My cell phone kept ringing and ringing, the reporters yelled my name, and the students stood there, not helping me in my escape. In fact, they stood in my way, making it harder.
Against my better judgment, I broke into a run. As I stepped onto the parking garage’s sidewalk, a sleek black car appeared beside me.
The passenger side window rolled down and my mother’s chauffer spoke. “Enter, Miss McClain.”
I didn’t think twice. I opened the back door and launched myself into the car.
I half-expected my mother to be inside, yelling at me for whatever had happened.
“Are you okay, Miss McClain?” the chauffer asked.
“Yes,” I answered with a shaky voice. It was an automatic answer. I wasn’t okay at all. “Where’s my mother?”
“She’s on her way to the Executive Mansion. She’ll meet you there.”
I nodded and pressed the button to raise the black glass between us.
As the car drove off campus, I leaned back in the seat and looked at my cell phone. Over four hundred messages from Mason, Liana, MaryAnn, and Becca, and fifty calls from them, my mother, and Donnie.
I didn’t check those though. Instead, I opened the internet browser and google myself. Tons of news headlines showed up on my search. I clicked the first one I saw.
Oddly, it was from the Washington Post. The picture caught my attention first: Mason and I getting heavy against a tree. My heart raced as I shifted my gaze to the headline: The Secret Life of Charlotte McClain.
Without reading the rest of the article, I turned off my phone as if I could erase it all along with it.
***
Charlotte
“I told you this would happen!” My mother threw the newspaper on her desk, making me flinch in my seat. She pushed her chair back and paced. “I can’t believe you did this, Charlotte. I can’t believe you let this happen.”
I didn’t know what to say. I was still in shock from what I had read in the newspaper and several gossip websites. Some of them had more pictures of me, Mason, or us together. Me on my knees, drawing on a sidewalk, my short skirt almost too revealing and my hair a mess. Another, I was roller-skating in an abandoned park. They also had photos of Mason working in shitty bars and around his not-so-great neighborhood.
According to them, Mason had gotten involved with me so he could do this, so he would have pictures of us to sell to the paparazzi for a fortune. It all had started during spring break. He had seen me, recognized me, and seduced me. Then, he arranged the move to Washington so he could start part B of his plan. He found out I was going to the Memorial Day Ball and got a job there. From there, he manipulated me more and more. He was the one who took the pictures to the newspaper, and then later to every gossip blog on the worldwide web.
They also mentioned me. How I had let Mason use me, how I had used him. How I spent my time in dangerous parts of the city, went to raves—really?—and done several other crazy stunts, all because he had enticed me. The press called him my boy toy—disgusting. The boy toy had brought out a crazy-driven Charlotte, and now that she was out, who knew what I would do?
Christ, the shit they invented!
Apart from Mason’s act. That had been an act, hadn’t it? Each time I remembered how Mason had touched me, how he had breathed on me, pulled me close, groaned in my ear, a piece of my heart fell away.
Playing Pretend Page 14
