Juliana Haygert - Playing Pretend

“We need to talk,” I said.

“We already talked.”

“Not really.”

Reluctantly, he nodded toward the double glass doors and started walking. I followed him through those doors, ignoring the curious stare from the secretary as we walked past her, and inside his large office. Comfortable chairs, a big mahogany desk set against a floor-to-ceiling window, an incredible view of the National Mall a few blocks away, sofa, coffee and end tables, and a bar area. Really? All of this for a guy who was probably what? Twenty-five, twenty-six?

I shook my head as Donnie closed the door.

He walked to his chair behind his desk and gestured for me to take one of the chairs.

I sat down.

“So,” he started.

“So,” I repeated, suddenly confused about how this would go down. “I wanted to talk to you about the deal you offered me the other day.”

“Well, haven’t you seen the pictures everywhere? The deal doesn’t stand anymore.”

“I know, but I want to know why you did it. I didn’t think you would go through with it. When you threatened to send those pictures to the press if I didn’t break up with Charlotte, I honestly thought you wouldn’t do it. After all, you said you like Charlotte. If you like her so much, you wouldn’t hurt her.”

“I didn’t hurt her. You did.”

This guy was getting on my last nerve. “I wasn’t the one who sent the pictures. You did.”

“Does it matter? She thinks it was you and that’s all I needed.”

I shook my head. “How could you hurt her like that?”

“She’ll get over it. I’ll give her a couple of weeks to heal on her own, and then I’ll be there, to help her move on.” He grinned as if he had won the lottery. If he wanted to make me uncomfortable, this wouldn’t work. If he kept this up, he could make me enraged and get a punch in his pretty face.

This guy was pathetic. Did he really believe Charlotte would fall into his arms like that? She didn’t like him. Period.

“You don’t regret sending the pictures to the press?”

“I don’t. Do you regret not taking my deal?”

In a way I did. If I had taken the deal, I would have hurt Charlotte by breaking up with her, but her relationship with her mother would be okay. She would hate me. In the end, I hadn’t taken the deal. Donnie went ahead with his threat and Charlotte was hurting, thinking I was responsible for her pain. She still hated me. Almost the same outcome. Almost.

“Not really.”

“Then you’re a bigger fool than I first thought. You do realize she will move on, right? You’re not her type. She might have lived an adventure with you, but when it comes down to it, she’ll look for a familiar environment. Like money and power.”

I refrained from answering, because I was one hair from clocking his eye. However, in truth, I wasn’t so sure he was wrong. Charlotte might be this happy, lively girl, but she had the other side of the coin. She had money and status behind her. Take that away, would she truly be happy?

Donnie adjusted the tie around his neck. “Anyway, what do you want here? To try to make another deal? I won’t accept anything, unless it’s to pay you to leave the city and never come back.”

Punch line. I wasn’t expecting that part, but it would be a great addition.

I stood. “Well, then I won’t even bother you with details.”

I turned and walked to the door.

“Mr. Rowell,” Donnie called. I halted and looked at him. He had a winning grin intended for me. “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of her.”

Rage filled my veins and I clenched my fists, holding it all in, before I lunged over his desk and squeezed that stupid smirk from his pompous face.

I nodded, not trusting that I wouldn’t insult him if I opened my mouth and then ruin my plan.

As much as I wanted to run out, I forced myself to walk calmly out of his office, into the elevator, through the lobby, and out of the building.

Then, I didn’t hold back. I exhaled through my mouth and rolled my shoulders. I counted to fifty, thinking of a peaceful beach, the waves breaking on the sand. Charlotte sprawled on a beach blanket, and me seated beside her.

A little better, I fished my phone from my pocket and pressed the big red button on the screen, turning off the recording. Donnie’s reputation was in the palm of my hand, and he didn’t even know it.

Charlotte

Liana and I had barely slept all night. Instead, we lay on her bed and talked. We talked about what happened, about how stupid I was for not suspecting anything, about Mason and how much of a jerk he was, about what I would do with my life from now on.

I had a couple of options. I could face the press and tell them what my mother wanted me to, but not act as innocent and betrayed as she wanted me to, then move on as I wanted. I would apply to another university—and hope there was still time to be accepted since it was the middle of August already—change my major; find an apartment; and find a part-time job, because the money I had in the bank wouldn’t last forever and I was sure, by now, my mother had frozen my trust fund and cut me from our other joint accounts.

Or I could move somewhere else. A small town—far away from here and uninterested in politics. Or move to Europe where no one would know who I was.

I wasn’t ready for all that though. I needed more time. Time to heal, time to think, and time to find my ground again.

In the morning, Liana’s parents went to work, Liana went to one of her classes, and I stayed alone. I moved from Liana’s room to the living room and sank on the couch, hugging a pillow and taking short naps between reruns of Once Upon a Time .

At lunchtime, Liana burst through the front door.

“Charlotte, you won’t believe what just happened.”

I sat straighter, afraid the press had found me, and now they were harassing Liana and her family. “What?”

With her cell phone in her hand, she sat down beside me.

“Don’t panic, okay. Just listen first.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. Oh, Lord. “Tell me.”

“Mason contacted me through Facebook. He said you weren’t answering him anywhere and he had something urgent to show you. I ignored his messages, but then he sent this one.”

She turned her phone to me so I could read it.

Mason: Liana, please. I didn’t send those photos to the press, but I know who did and I can prove it. Please, call me.

A pang stabbed my heart. What now? “Did you answer?”

“Wasn’t going to, but something told me I should. I called him and we met right after my class, just off campus. He had a recording with him and I listened to it.”

“And?”

“He sent it to me through email, and I want you to hear it.” She went to the files in her phone and selected a voice recording. “Are you ready?”

Not really, but I nodded.

She pressed play and I held my breath. Soon, I heard Donnie and Mason’s voices. In a shock, I heard to the entire recording.

Something like anxiety and rage and disappointed and frustration and a whole bunch of other feelings assaulted me.

“Holy crap,” I said shakily.

“I know!” Liana took my hand and steadied it. “It wasn’t Mason! He told me that Donnie discovered you two, had the both of you followed, and then went to Mason and threatened him. He said if Mason didn’t break up with you, Donnie would send those pictures to a newspaper. Mason didn’t believe him because he thought Donnie wouldn’t do that to you, but Donnie did! And you thought it was Mason’s fault.” She smiled at me. “But Mason cares so much about you; he found a way to let you know the truth.”

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to think.