Juliana Haygert - Playing Pretend

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.

When I first bumped into him in Washington, I thought this was his intention, but he had promised it wasn’t. He had proven it—though I knew it was all an act now. He never liked me. He liked money. And since I didn’t shower him with gifts and such, he came up with a new plan.

I shook my head. This couldn’t be true. By everything holy in this life, this couldn’t be true.

My mother turned to me, her eyes fuming. “Is this his name? Mason. Is this the same guy you were with when you came back to the hotel at 5 a.m.? Please, tell me it is, because I can’t deal with it if there are more of your boy toys out there.”

I sob coursed through me. Boy toy. He hadn’t been my boy toy. I liked him too much for that. In fact, I had already passed that phase. I had fallen for him. Now, he was ripping my heart out.

“Only him,” I muttered.

Sarah sneaked into my mother’s office. “Mrs. McClain, I just talked to the security company. They will send more guards immediately.”

Nodding, my mother stopped by the window behind her desk and pushed the curtains half an inch to the side. My curiosity got the best of me and I stood so I could look out too. A swarm of reporters was stationed outside the front gates—and some had tried to climb over the fence around the back, but had been caught and sent to the nearest police station. The reporters and paparazzi kept asking questions to the guards and yelling our names.

“How am I going to fix this?” my mother asked, her voice strained. “Even if we do everything we’re supposed to, it’ll take years for them to forget this.”

For once, she was deluding herself. She knew that they never forgot. Once she started her next campaign, the opposing candidates would dig this out and hang it over her head.

I had no idea how she would fix this, either, and I felt so bad for having caused this. I couldn’t blame her if she hated me right now.

“First things first.” She let go of the curtain and gestured for Sarah to come closer. Her assistant pulled out a notebook and pen, knowing what this meant. “We need to call a press conference. You will tell them how you were tricked. This guy, this scheming and evil man, made you believe he loved you and you, a kind and gracious lady, fell for him. You’ll cry and show them how much you’re hurt.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. “Are you serious?”

“Excuse me?”

“I was tricked. I am hurting. Really hurting, and you want me to stand in front of dozens of cameras and microphones and use my feelings to save your face?”

“We need to do anything we can to save both our faces.”

“No, Mother, you’re trying to save yours. Your face, not mine.”

Ignoring me, she continued, “Then, we’ll revise your schedule, Charlotte. For a week, you won’t leave the house and we’ll tell everyone it’s because you’re not feeling well after everything that man did to you. I’ll talk to your professors and you’ll finish the summer semester at home. You’ll lie low on a few events, and I’ll ask Tracy to spend a few days here. It’ll be good for you.”

“If you could, you would just erase all of this, because then your reputation would never be tainted, right? You wish you could have kept a tighter leash. Now, you have a rebellious daughter. God, I feel like Prince Harry.”

Apparently, my mother didn’t know much about sarcasm, because she stared at me with pure rage in her eyes. “Don’t you speak to me like that, Charlotte. We’re in this mess because of you. All of this is on you.”

Now I was the one enraged. Yes, I had screwed up everything, but she could try to be more understanding. I thought Mason had been in love with me too. My heart was breaking. And what was my mother doing? Applying more salt to my wound.

The hole in my chest grew and grew. I was tired of how everything was about her, about how I had to behave for her, on how I had to dress for her, on how I had to look for her, what I had to say for her. I wanted to be my own person, to have my own life, to decide my own future.

I raised my chin and stuffed my chest. “That’s enough. I’m done.”

She stared at me as if I was speaking in riddles. “What are you done with?”

“You.”

A frown wrinkled her forehead. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t do this anymore. You can’t rule me as if I were a slave. I’m a person and I have my own wishes, wishes that you never bothered to learn. Hell, you never bothered to know anything about me.”

“But, Charlotte, everything I do for you, everything I chose for you, it’s in your best interest. I would never do something less than stellar for you.”

I shook my head. “Even now, you don’t get it. It’s not about what you want for me, Mom. It’s about what I want for me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Charlotte.” She gestured to the newspapers on her desk. “Didn’t you just prove that you can’t decide anything by yourself?”

I pressed my lips into a thin line and clenched my fists, counting to twenty, because ten wouldn’t do it. Rage and frustration swam in my veins. “I’m out.”

I turned my back to her and marched to the door.

“Charlotte, what are you doing?” my mother asked, her tone rising a little.

“I’m leaving.”

She gaped at me for a moment. “You can’t do this. Look at the mess you caused. You want to add more wood to the fire?”

I paused. I knew this would make things look worse, but I couldn’t sit here and let my mother rule my life and stomp on my dreams because I had ruined her precious career. Come on! Ruined was too strong of a word. Maybe I had caused a huge bump, but she would survive this. After all, the picture was of me, not her. She could simply spin this story, saying I was crazy and she had tried everything to help me, but I was too far gone. Then she would redeem herself by visiting some mental institutions. Or whatever other insane story her publicists could come up with.

I turned the doorknob. “Goodbye.”

“Charlotte Anne McClain!” she yelled. “If you walk out of that door now, be prepared to never come back!”

I looked at her one more time. She would forgive me someday, even if it was in thirty or forty years, when she was dying of old age.

Taking a deep breath, I walked out of her office.

Charlotte

I left the Executive Mansion as soon as I finished packing two bags with some clothing and other essential things. It had been a pain to drive by the reporters as they threw themselves over my car, but I had made it. As I expected, I was followed, but nothing that driving around in circles, and entering and exiting interstates didn’t solve.

I drove around until it was late night, then turned on my phone and called the only person I could think of. The hundreds of voice mails didn’t escape me, but I ignored them all, and as soon as my call was over, I turned my phone off again.

Perhaps it wasn’t my wisest decision to date, but I didn’t have anywhere else to go. The two-hour drive to Washington passed in a blur. Numbness and shock still inhabited my senses, and I wasn’t so sure I would ever recover from their marks. Not so soon, at least.

Liana waited for me in front of her house. She opened the garage and I parked my car inside. I felt bad for making her father leave his car in the driveway so I could hide mine, but it was his suggestion since my car was easily recognized.

As soon as I stepped out of my car, Liana brought me in for a bear hug. I sagged in her arms, and the tears I was able to fight until then fell mercilessly.