“What was that?” Matt asked, catching up with me.
Brody put his arm over my shoulders. “Charlotte lives here?”
“Yes. No. She lives in Richmond.”
Matt gaped. “Wait. Have you known where she was from since spring break? I thought she didn’t tell you.”
“She didn’t,” I said. “I had no idea where she lived, until I met her at a ball. I worked as a waiter and she was one of the rich people enjoying the evening.”
Brody’s brows shot up. “How rich?”
“As in daughter of the governor rich.”
“Fuck,” Brody whispered.
Matt whistled. “That explains the odd clothes.”
“What?” I asked.
“Yes, well, politicians and their families have certain standards,” Matt explained.
I sighed. “But that’s not her.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do,” I said. “She’s the girl I met during spring break. This one”—I pointed my chin to where she disappeared—“is like a mask she wears.” Matt narrowed his eyes at me. “What?”
“You’ve got it bad,” he said. Brody nodded in agreement.
“What? Of course not. I barely know her.”
Matt laughed. “As if that mattered.”
“I’ve got nothing,” I hissed. “And I’m gonna prove it tonight.”
Chapter Ten
Charlotte
“This is getting harder,” I said, my cell phone pressed between my ear and my shoulder.
“I think I heard that a couple of weeks ago,” Liana said, on the other side of the line.
“But now it is even harder.” I halted in front of the tall mirror in my closet and looked at myself. I didn’t look like it, but I felt like a total mess. “It wasn’t this hard before, to do whatever my mother wanted. To be conservative. To dress in pencil skirts and blouses. To wear pearls. To go through political science. I didn’t mind it before, not this much anyway.”
“That is because …” Liana prompted.
I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Mason, about my life, about my future since I had seen him five days ago at the National Mall. Who was I kidding? I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about any of it since bumping into him at the Memorial Day ball over a month ago.
I grunted. “You know why.”
“I do, but I think saying it out loud helps. It’s like your brain won’t really absorb it if you don’t say it out loud.”
“Then I won’t say it out loud.”
“Charlotte!” Liana chuckled. “You have to. Come on. Do it.”
With one free hand, I picked up my dress and put it in front of myself—a deep green cocktail dress with a narrow waist and a flare skirt that fell to my knees. Always to my knees. And the neckline came way over my breasts. No parts exposed whatsoever.
I sighed. “I can’t … I shouldn’t.”
“I love you. I always have, and I’ll continue loving you even when you marry that guy you’ve been going out with lately,” Liana said. I cringed, glad my friend couldn’t see me. “And become the next First Lady, and forget all about me. However, if you do that, you’ll forget about you too, you know.”
Yup. I knew that. “I wish it was easy,” I mumbled.
“I know. But I’m here, okay. If you need someone to hold your hand or to give you a push, I’m here.”
I smiled. “I know. Thank you.”
“Charlotte!” My mother’s voice echoed from the corridor. “Are you ready?”
“Almost!” I shouted back. Then I spoke into the phone, “I’ve gotta go.”
“All right. Call me later.”
“I will.”
“Try to have fun,” Liana said, as always.
I hung up and slipped on the dress carefully so as not to ruin my makeup and my intricate ponytail. After a little shimmy, I was able to pull the zipper up. I put on my pumps and looked at myself in the mirror again. However, I didn’t see me. It saw Peyton McClain’s daughter, someone I barely knew, someone I barely liked.
Until recently—until Mason moved to Washington—I had been okay with all of this. I knew my mother would direct my life, tell me what to do, who to date, where to go. I was sure my mother wouldn’t choose anything bad for me. I had been raised to trust my mother, to obey my mother. Yes, I had my few hours with Liana, MaryAnn, and Becca every week and that was all the escape I had needed. Now, it didn’t seem enough. I wanted more. I wanted to be free. I wanted to live my life, to make my choices, to go to art school instead of law, to work for a studio and have my face smeared with charcoal, to live in a messy townhouse in a nice residential neighborhood with kids playing ball in the streets, to kiss the guy I wanted to kiss.
My mother’s shout startled me out of my daze. “Charlotte! We’re going to be late to the fundraiser!”
“Coming,” I shouted back, slowly retreating from the mirror.
In the foyer, my mother stood beside Donnie, who was all smiles.
“You look beautiful,” he said, and I suppressed a cringe. This was our sixth, maybe seventh date, and he always said the same thing when he saw me. Always. Guess I should be flattered, but the only thing I thought was that he should learn more sentences.
He took my hand when I reached the last step of the stairs, and hooked it under his arm.
“Thank you,” I said, my perfect fake smile in place.
I let him take me to the car, all the while thinking about what Liana suggested. Try to have fun. I would. I really would try.
Mason
I rolled out of bed at 3 p.m. In only my boxers, I dragged my feet to the kitchen and started a new pot of coffee.
Matt and Brody had gone back to Cali three days ago, and I hadn’t been able to prove that I didn’t have a thing for Charlotte after all. That night I had been called to help at a wedding party. Two of the hired waiters were down and they need more hands ASAP. Because of the nice hourly rate, Matt and I accepted the offer and worked until 5 a.m. Brody, on the other hand, went out by himself and came back to my apartment mid-afternoon the next day.
Then, I launched back into the club I mostly worked at. After five nights of serving other people’s drinks from 9 p.m. to 4 a.m., I felt exhausted, and I would do it again tonight. It was better than staying home, staring at the walls, and thinking about Charlotte.
Christ. When things between Tamara and me ended, I hadn’t been this hung up on her. I had been broken by the situation, and I had been distraught about how things ended, about being played for a fool for so long. However, I forgot Tamara quite easily, and it was because of Charlotte, the girl who now inhabited every inch of my mind.
I groaned, irritated with myself for not being able to control my thoughts.
The coffeepot beeped and I grabbed a mug from the cabinet. While serving my coffee, I looked at the clock on the microwave and wondered if I should go earlier to the club tonight. It would help take my mind off her. Then tomorrow I would be more tired and would be able to sleep all morning and all afternoon. Ugh, I couldn’t wait until my freaking classes started to give me more to do, but they were still two months away. Two entire months. I would go crazy like this.
I sat on the stool before the high counter and sipped from my coffee. The newspaper lying beside me caught my attention. Well, something to pass the next five minutes, and I still needed to look for a better job. I snatched it and flipped through the pages.
Of course, I had to feel worse. A picture of Governor Peyton McClain at a fundraiser event illustrated the fourth page, and behind her stood Charlotte and that guy. Ugh, he looked like her boyfriend. Why would she lie to me? She could easily say that the guy was her boyfriend, which would keep me way. Or so I told myself. Because, honestly, I wasn’t sure anymore.