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 Donnie, 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.