Page 50 of Pretend for Me

“Cassie, please. I’m sorry for not telling you about Olivia. About my past. It was just too painful,” Audrey protested for the tenth time since her visit to the vet’s office. She jogged, struggling to keep up with me, as I speed-walked nearly half a block away.

Audrey came home from her encounter with Matthew and had confessed all her secrets to me. She also divulged who she told before me. I had been giving Audrey the silent treatment ever since. Was it childish? Sure, but I was pissed.

I needed space from Audrey but I also needed help setting up for my first opening, so Audrey agreed despite our feud.

“Cassie, is this because I told someone my story who wasn’t you? Or is it because of who I told?” Audrey barked out her questions, finally catching up to me. She grabbed my art portfolio in an attempt to stop me.

I rolled my eyes and wrangled free from Audrey’s surprisingly strong grasp. I met Audrey’s expectant eyes and then cast my gaze to the floor.

Audrey crossed her arms, adding, “This is because of Matthew, right? It all leads back to him?”

The past week had been hell. Not only was I constantly reminded of my past with Matthew, but now Audrey was confiding in him. Confessing I wasn’t over Matthew to Aiden really messed with my head. And then seeing Matthew’s tattoos challenged my resolve to stay away from him. I was questioning my decision to lie to him. I did love him. But I was terrified of getting hurt again.

I shrugged my shoulders, making a move to cross the street. Audrey grabbed the bag that hung on my shoulder again. “Yeah that’s what I thought. Cassie, you love him. Why not just try to work it out?”

I shook my head, not wanting to discuss him any longer. I simply couldn’t. This was supposed to be my day, and I wouldn’t have it ruined by reminders of the past.

“Do you even still want me to come to your art show?” Audrey murmured softly.

I leaned in to wrap my arms around Audrey. “Of course I want you to come, Audrey. I love you.” I chuckled and added, “I just don’t like you right now.”

It was Audrey’s turn to roll her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Just wait until you get home and I put Oreo in your bed.”

“Do you think the canvas came out, okay?” I leaned back, gauging Audrey’s candid opinion.

“Yes, you worked so hard. Even after the debacle at the restaurant.”

I nodded, thinking back to when I went to Sonny's to retrieve my painting that hung in the hallway by the bathroom.

The dayafter Matthew revealed his tattoos to me, I was still reeling and decided to focus on my art showcase to take mymind off things. I’d finally gotten my first big break. This was a moment I dreamed of my whole life. The only thing missing was the person who I thought would be standing by me when I finally achieved success.

Shaking off nostalgia, I walked down the corridor that led to the bathrooms and Bridget’s office. I looked up to where my childhood-inspired painting hung just yesterday when I had walked past to pick up my check. The wall opposite the bathroom was now completely empty.

Had Bridget taken it down, already reneging on her promise after she’d agreed to it as part of the terms of me coming back to the restaurant?

My heart began beating quickly as I made my way to Bridget’s office, hoping she was in a good mood.

I knocked twice before I heard a faint “come in” from the other side of the door.

Bridget looked up from her desk. She was wearing glasses and intensely scrutinizing a sheet of paper. Files were scattered all over her desk.How un-Bridget like?

“What, Cassandra?” Bridget spat, taking a sip from the thermos beside her computer.

“Do you know what happened to the painting by the bathrooms?” I inquired, hoping Bridget just took it down in a redecorating spell.

Bridget scoffed and looked back to the fascinating piece of paper in her hands. “Someone purchased it early this morning,” she replied, dumbly.

Bridget opened her desk drawer, pulled out an envelope, and handed it to me. “Your earnings.” Bridget waved me off.

I picked at my fingernails and shifted my weight from one leg to the other.Shit, the art show was a week away and that painting had taken me years to perfect.It was a watercolor of two kids: a boy and a girl roller skating. They looked young butwore oversized clothing to signify them growing up too quickly in a fast-paced world.

Maybe I could find out who purchased it and return their money in exchange for the painting?

“Do you know who purchased it? I really need that painting back,” I pleaded, hoping Bridget would show mercy.

Bridget pursed her lips and stood up from her desk, walking to where I hovered in the doorway.

“Cassie, I can’t keep track of your artwork. I have a restaurant to run.” Bridget ushered me out the door, slamming it behind me.

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