“Mazzy is an unusual name. Were you named after Mazzy Star?”
“What’s a Mazzy Star?”
He laughs. I enjoy his laugh. It’s big and raw and full of joy. So much different than his brother’s, which always seems forced and restrained. “Mazzy Star is an alternative rock band. They were really popular in the 1990s. Maybe your parents were fans and that’s how you got the name?”
I shrug. “I have no idea. I’ve never talked to them about my name.” Or much of anything else for that matter.
“Why not?”
“Are you bored?”
“Why do you ask that?”
“Well you’re spending your time sitting here with me and asking a lot of questions.”
He holds up his mug. “And drinking wine. You can’t forget about the wine.”
“You obviously have nothing better to do, because I’m really not all that interesting.”
“Maybe I find you a little bit interesting.”
“Just a little bit?” Our eyes lock for a long moment.
“More than a little,” he admits before he takes another sip of wine.
I push my finger around the rim of the cup for a few seconds, hoping I can make it play a note. Anything to take the attention off of me and distract him from asking any more questions.
“Are you going to play with that wine or are you going to drink it?” he teases.
I take a long swig just for him.
“Tell me more about Mazzy.”
“You’ve pretty much just learned everything there is to know about me. I work. I have a sister. That’s my life.”
“You don’t have any interests or hobbies?”
I shake my head.
“What did you do in high school? Sports, clubs, theater, choir?”
I frown. “Do I look like a choir girl to you?”
“Not really.”
“I’ve always been too busy working. I’ve been working since I was sixteen. My sister and I got jobs at the pizza place in town and worked there pretty much every waking hour when we weren’t in school. Then when we graduated we got jobs at Haymakers, the bar in town. The Wilde brothers, who own Haymakers taught us as much as they could about the business. We’ve been waitressing and bartending even since.”
“What about your family?”
“You’ve already met my sister.”
“What about your mom and dad?”
I take a big sip of my wine. I don’t really like talking about my parents, but Austin seems intent on knowing everything about me.
“There’s not that much to say. They’re divorced. My dad got custody of me and my sister. We don’t see our mom.”
“Ever?” he sounds shocked.
I shake my head. “Nope.”
He leans in close and I can feel the heat between us surge. “Now you’ve piqued my curiosity. Why don’t you see your mom?”
I heave a sigh. “I have no idea why I’m even telling you this.”
“Maybe because you’re starting to like me.” He gives me a sly smile.
“Not even a little,” I tease. We both know we’re starting to like each other a lot more than we should.
“That’s too bad. Now about your mom…”
“Fine. I’ll tell you the sad story, but only because it’s obvious you’re used to getting your way with women and you’re not going to stop annoying me until I tell you.”
“Annoying? Really?” he puts his hand to his heart in mock dismay.
“Yes, annoying,” I repeat.
“You’re killing me, Kid. Absolutely killing me.”
“Do you want to hear the story or not?” I narrow my eyes at him.
He moves his hand in a princely gesture, which looks very odd coming from a guy who looks more like a badass biker than any kind of Prince Charming.
“Please continue,” he says in a fake high society voice.
I can’t help but smile at him. “Here you go. My tale of woe. When my mom left my dad she left me and my sister as well. She married another man and started a new family with him. Her new family doesn’t include me and my sister. My dad works as a chef in the city and he wasn’t home very much while we were growing up. My sister and I pretty much raised ourselves. It’s probably why we’re so close, because we really never had anyone else but each other. But I’m not a psychologist so I’m not going to analyze my life. It is what it is.”
“Thanks for sharing that with me.” He actually sounds sincere rather than his usual smart ass self.
“And what about your family?” I probe.
He pours a little more wine in each of our glasses. “What has my brother told you?”
I laugh. “Absolutely nothing.”
“You’ll marry just about anyone won’t you?” he teases.
“For the right price,” I remind him.
“I’m seven years younger than my brother, who you probably already know is thirty-two.”
I try to do the math in my head, which I have to admit was never my strong suit, plus I’m a little bit tipsy from the wine. It’s not adding up…or in this case subtracting.
“I’m twenty-five,” he adds.
“Did I really look like I was struggling with that one?”
“Either that or you’ve got a stomach ache, one of the two.”
“Go on. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”
“Interrupt all you want. I like talking about my family about as much as you seem to enjoy talking about yours.”
“Which is not at all.”
He nods. “Exactly.”
“Yet you forced it out of me anyway.” I give him back the same sweeping hand gesture he gave me earlier then say in my snobbiest fake royal voice, “Please continue, Sir.”
“I’m the quintessential black sheep of the family. If I had a dictionary handy I’d have you look up black sheep because you’d see my photo. My brother was always perfect in every way and I could not measure up. Andrew was a straight A student. I was lucky to get Cs. He was president of his class and I was lucky to make it to class most days. My brother was voted Most Likely to Succeed and I was voted Most Likely to Get Arrested.”
He takes another sip of wine before he continues. “I don’t know. Maybe I just became a bad boy because my brother was too good. It was a way to differentiate myself from him. I pissed my parents off a lot. It’s possible I may have enjoyed that a bit too. The scariest time in my life was the day they stopped being pissed and just accepted the fact that I was going to be a fuckup for the rest of my life. It’s almost like they gave up on me. That’s when I gave up on myself. After I managed to graduate high school by the skin of my teeth I told my parents I wasn’t going to college. They threatened to disown me, so I spent four years drinking and partying at their Ivy League alma mater. I probably wouldn’t have graduated if my parents weren’t large donors to the institution, but I managed to earn a degree. Then I packed up a backpack and headed out of town. I spent a year roaming around the United States and Canada. Once I’d seen every state and province I headed to Europe, where I’ve been roaming around until a few days ago when my father called me back to help with my brother’s campaign for governor. So that’s my sad tale of woe in a nutshell.”
Since I met Austin I’ve always seen him as so cocky and full of himself. But talking about his family he looks so vulnerable. More like a little boy who has been scolded one too many times and is afraid of his shadow.
“What are your parents like?” I ask.
He rolls his eyes then takes a huge swig of wine before he answers. “Mr. and Mrs. Graham are the epitome of a political family. Their lives will be complete the day a news reporter writes that they’re the Republican version of the Kennedys. Of course I don’t exactly fit into their picture perfect political life. Andrew likes to call me a rebel without a cause. I think he resents the fact that I don’t toe the party line like he does.”
“I’m a little nervous about meeting them,” I admit.
“Don’t b
e. They will be thrilled beyond belief. You’re a beautiful blonde. A perfect size two. You’ll look fantastic in every family photo. They’ve been waiting years for Andrew to bring home someone exactly like you.”
“Why do you call him that?”
He cocks his head to one side and furrows his brow, but almost in slow motion. I’m obviously not the only one who is getting a little tipsy. “Call who what?” he asks then laughs.
“Call your brother Andrew. Everyone else calls him Drew. He even calls himself that.”
“Because it annoys him. He hates Andrew. He thinks it sounds weak. He hates Andy even more. Ever since he was about twelve or so he’s insisted on everyone calling him Drew. I call him Andrew mostly to get on his nerves.”
I’m not exactly sure how to ask the next question so I just blurt it out. “How do you know he’s gay? Did he tell you?”
“Oh, hell no. He’s never admitted it to anyone. I don’t think he’s ever even admitted it to himself. I started noticing girls when I was about five or six years old. By the time I was ten I was trying to figure out ways to see girls naked. My brother was in high school and it was like girls didn’t even register. When I was in high school I had two thoughts nearly every moment of the day: where I could score beer and how I was going to get laid. Drew never even dated in high school. The only times I ever saw him with a girl were when it was absolutely required like prom or homecoming. Most straight guys that age can’t stop thinking about girls. My brother didn’t seem to have any interest. College wasn’t much different. Most of his friends would bring girls home for long weekends or take girls on trips for breaks. My brother was always solo.”
“What did your parents say?”
“Deep down I think they have always known something was different with their perfect child, when it came to women and dating anyway. But I don’t think they want to admit it. In their mind Drew Graham is destined to be President of the United States. They’ve been grooming him for the role since he was a kid. Gay and lesbian Americans don’t even have the right to marry in every state in our country yet. Do you really think the voters of our country are going to elect a gay president? I don’t think New Jersey voters are much different when it comes to selecting a governor.”
I frown. “How do you know that?”
“I guess you don’t follow politics. To date New Jersey is the only state to have an openly gay governor, but he didn’t actually come out until he was already in office, then he resigned.”
I shake my head. “I’ve never even voted.”
He laughs. “Don’t tell my parents that. I’m sure Drew will get you set up with a voter registration card.” He takes another swig of his wine. “Let me guess. You don’t watch the news either. Probably don’t keep up with political scandals the way my family does.”
I shake my head. “My sister and I don’t even own a television.”
“Seriously?” He sounds skeptical. “What do you do for mindless entertainment?”
“When we’re not working we like to cook. We invent new recipes. Have fun in the kitchen. She’s a much better cook than I am, but I can handle myself in the kitchen too. I’m more of the idea person. I think up the new recipes and Suzie executes them. I’m a little better at pastries and desserts than she is. I really enjoy cake decorating.” I suddenly have an idea and I articulate it before I can stop myself. “We should have a little bakery with our breakfast restaurant.”
Austin is staring at me with a twinkle in his eye. “What restaurant.”
I put my hand over my mouth when I realize my mistake. I signed a non-disclosure agreement so I can’t talk about the money Drew is paying me for the fake engagement.
“Nothing,” I say dismissively hoping he’ll drop the subject.
Of course this just makes him more curious. I can see it in his eyes. “You can tell me.”
I shake my head. “I really can’t.”
Then to my surprise he takes my hand in his. I know I should pull away, but I don’t want to. My entire body immediately responds to his touch. Little jolts of electricity are surging through every part of me and I don’t want it to stop.
When he starts to rub my hand with his thumb it’s almost too much to bear. All I can think about is him touching the rest of my body with the same gentle touch he’s using on my hand. It’s such an irresistible contrast. Austin is so rugged and rough around the edges, but his touch is so tender and warm. I melt into it for a long moment.
Then he whispers, “Tell me…”
And I do. “My sister and I are going to use the money I’m being paid to open a restaurant. We want to serve breakfast. There’s really nothing like it in town, except the old diner. They don’t even like serving breakfast. And believe me, you can tell.”
He’s staring into my eyes. “I can tell you’re really passionate about it. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen your beautiful blue eyes light up like that.”
And before I know it his mouth is so close to mine I can feel his breath tickle my lips. He hovers there for a moment. I assume it’s because he wants to give me a chance to stop him, but I don’t, even though I know I should.
When he kisses me it’s like every light on the planet was switched on at the same time. I’m nearly overwhelmed by the sensations of heat, light and energy. And I finally understand what all the fuss is about. I certainly never felt anything like this when I was making out with Tommy in the back of his dad’s truck.
When our lips finally part we both stare at each other almost in a trance. I put my fingers to my lips because they’re still tingling.
Wow, I think, but then I realize I must have uttered the word because Austin in beaming.
“That good, huh?”
“Like it wasn’t good for you too,” I tease.
“It was okay.” He bites back a grin.
“Yeah, right.”
Still in the drunken haze of our first amazing kiss we’re both startled when Drew’s assistant, George, hurries into the kitchen. The man seems to be in a perpetual hurry. I almost want to tell him to slow down and not take life so seriously.
“There you are,” he says then stops short when he sees that Austin and I are still holding hands.
I immediately pull away from Austin, but it’s obviously too little too late because George looks like a deer caught in headlights.
“I was just…we were just…” I’m at a loss for words.
Luckily Austin steps up and says, “I was just massaging her hand. She got a kink in the muscle opening the wine bottle.”
Not exactly a believable story, but at least it’s a story. Of course it also draws attention to the near empty wine bottle sitting between us.
“I’m not here to judge,” George says with the utmost professionalism given the situation. Of course both Austin and I look about as innocent as two kids with chocolate all over their fingers and mouths who insist they have no idea what happened to their father’s candy bar. “I just need Mazzy to come with me because we’ve got a lot of shopping to do and not enough time to do it.”
“Okay,” I manage to sputter as I rise from the table a little woozy from the wine.
When I give Austin a quick glance he looks like a kid who just got his new bike stolen by the neighborhood bully.
“I’ll see you later,” I say and that seems to brighten him up just a bit.
Then I notice the plates from lunch are still sitting on the table. “Oh, I almost forgot. I need to clean the dishes.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Austin offers. “You go buy all the clothes that are going to make you into the perfect gubernatorial candidate’s fiancée.”
I can’t help but notice the note of bitterness in his voice, but it’s not really something I can address in front of George. Apparently we’ve got a lot of shopping to do.
***
Sitting with George in his new BMW as we head through Old Town is uncomfortable. He hasn’t really looked at me since we left the kitchen and it’s fr
eaking me out. I’m not sure if I should say something about what he saw or if I should just let it go. My biggest fear, of course, is that he’ll say something to Drew.
Finally when I can no longer stand the thick tension in the air between us, I say, “I’m not sure what you saw…”
He puts up a hand to silence me before I can go on. “What happens at the lake house stays at the lake house.”
I swallow. I know he knows everything about the sham engagement. He’s the one who put together all of the paperwork—contract and non-disclosure agreement—for me to sign.
After a few more tension filled and much too silent moments between us he says, “Drew was down in the polls. There was talk about him being single as the reason. Voters were questioning his stability and some reporters were hinting about his sexual orientation. He needed to do something if he wanted to win the election. You’re that something.”
When George takes a quick glance at me I see something that I haven’t seen before. Deep concern. “There’s no one on Earth who wants to be governor more than Drew Graham. The only thing he’s ever wanted to do with his life is be a politician. It’s what he was born and raised to do. And I want that for him too. It’s what makes him happy.”
A sudden realization hits me like a brick to the side of the head. George isn’t just speaking like an employee talking about his boss. He sounds more like someone talking about his lover. Maybe there’s more going on between the two of them than anyone realizes.
Or maybe people do realize it, but just don’t say anything about it.
Or maybe they’re in denial.
I don’t know. This is all new to me. At this point I just want to get through the election, get the rest of the money, and go back to my life in little Old Town.
“I can tell you really care about him,” I reply. I guess some part of me wants George to know that I know he’s more than just Drew’s assistant.
“More than anything,” George assures me. “And now we have to make sure you’re well outfitted for the campaign trail. Nieman Marcus here we come.”
Another Mazzy Monday Page 7
