Page 5 of Pretend for Me

“Fine, but don’t forget to set the alarm for the elevator when you leave. I don’t want Rocky getting out.”

Charlie nodded and said her goodbyes to Holden and me, and we headed for the elevator.

“You know when I asked you to meet my girlfriend for lunch, I expected you to be a little happier for me.” Holden huffed as the elevator doors shut.

Holden and I were lucky enough to remain close after high school. We both attended Princeton, but because of my internship and constant traveling, Holden was able to have the proper college experience whereas I had responsibilities and a dress code. Now Holden had been working at Adams Point for about two years, and adopting a boring 9-5 had become taxing on his lighthearted persona. We were like brothers, and even fought like such.

We walked through the lobby of the building before entering a town car that my parents insisted on me using while in the city. Cabs and the subway were not efficient and were frankly just beneath them, and owning a car in the city was more hassle than anything else. After we were both settled in our seats, the driver took off into the bustling traffic of NYC.

“I am happy for you, man! I’m sorry. I just have a lot on my mind.” I looked down at my phone, fiddling with a to-do list.

“Come on, I hope Maya isn’t sending you nudes again. I’ll have no appetite for lunch,” Holden remarked, making gagging sounds.

“Fuck, between you and Charlie, can you guys stop worrying about my dating life?”Or lack thereof.

“Matthew, I say this to you from a place of love, but all this pent-up sexual frustration isn’t good for you and isn’t good for your mental health,” Holden said matter-of-factly.

Ever since I insisted on Holden applying to Adams Point, we became even closer. I was always schooled on the importance of image whereas Holden slept with as many women as possible, trying to prove himself and his status. Until recently when he met the woman of his dreams.

“What, did you read that on a fortune cookie or something?” I quipped, not in the mood for life advice.

I was tired of pretending that I was satisfied with the way my life was turning out. I might have only been twenty-eight years old, but I was already miserable and hated the feeling of having my entire life carved out for me.

“No—see these are the perks of dating an older woman. My woman might be thirty-eight but she not only owns the hottest restaurant, she doubles as the chef. She’s also so fucking wise. I’m a wealth of knowledge because of her,” Holden boasted. “That and she’s a firecracker in bed. The body she hides under that chef’s coat—” He kissed his fingertips. “Chef’s kiss. You know she does this thing?—”

“Enough! Thank you, but I’m good. You might like women a decade older than you, but it’s not my style.” I put my hands up, innocently.

“Best three months of my life. You just don’t know what you’re missing,” Holden grumbled.

But in fact, I knew exactly what I was missing, and I missedherevery day.

3

CASSIE

Sonny's on 5th was always jam-packed. Not just because the food was impeccable but the ambience was out of this world. The restaurant looked like it was plucked from a catalog and you were transported to an exotic location. Not Midtown Manhattan.

While I memorized the specials, my back pressed against the bar, Audrey cleaned wine glasses to prepare for a lunch Bridget was hosting. As if I conjured her with my thoughts, I heard her heels clack against the hardwood as Bridget approached us at the bar.

“Oh good, you’re both here. I need you to work in the garden today. My guests should be here any minute and that tart Fatima pulled a no-call, no-show. Everything needs to be perfect. This is the first time I’m meeting one of Holden’s friends, for Christ’s sake. Cassie, bring out three glasses of that new Pinot Noir for them to try. And don’t think I didn’t notice you were five minutes late!” Bridget demanded, snapping her fingers as she walked away, not even bothering to wait for a response.

The lunch rush had the restaurant booming. Food was coming out at lightning speed. Drinks were being slung at thebar, and the lively chatter surrounded me as I hustled around the restaurant.

I’d just grabbed the metal tray with the three glasses of wine Bridget had requested when a tendril of hair hung down in front of me. I blew the hair out of my face, and the tray wobbled as my hands shook.Stupid, imperfectly pinned-up hair.

I couldn’t help but bite my lip, nervous to be serving Bridget and her guests. As long as I’d been waitressing, my shaky hands were still the fatal flaw I struggled to manage. After settling myself, I watched Bridget sit down before I began walking over to the table. Holding my breath, I prayed I made it without spilling.

I reached the view of the table and was met with Bridget’s scowling face.

Another deep breath, Cassie. Almost there, don’t drop anything,I tried to mentally coach myself.One step, two steps. Slow down.

I plastered a smile on my face and focused on the table where I intended to set the drinks down, and then I heardhim.

“Yes, Adams Point was featured inthe Times?—”

My steps faltered and the shaking hands came back with a vengeance. The tray began to tip and I scrambled to regain purchase on the metal disk. I made the mistake of looking up and was met with a pair of familiar green eyes. The way they widened in shock must have mirrored my own.

Glass shattered on the white tablecloth as my tray tipped all the way over. Red liquid pooled atop the table, dripping onto the laps of the three people seated there. He jumped up out of his seat as the wine began to soak his trousers.

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