Big Rock(52)

“Is this true?”

The question doesn’t come from Mr. Offerman. It comes from my father. The man I admire. The man I respect. The man who taught me to be better than I’ve been for the last week. Shame washes over me as Dad sidesteps Mr. Offerman. He’s not looking at the man on the other side of the business deal. He’s looking at his son.

His flesh and blood who lied to him. Who embarrassed him. Who hoodwinked everyone here.

My face burns. The fact that my feelings for Charlotte have become real is meaningless. None of that matters. I nod and start to fashion an answer.

But the slap of flip-flops on flimsy metal interrupts me. Charlotte races down the makeshift bleachers and across the grass and dirt.

“Stop,” she says, holding up a hand. She’s twisting her ring on her finger. “The fake engagement is my fault. Don’t blame Spencer.”

My father furrows his brow, and turns to her. “What do you mean?”

“It was my idea,” she says, contrition in her tone, guilt in her eyes. “I asked Spencer if he’d pretend to be engaged to me so my ex would stop bothering me so much.” Her voice is heavy. She tugs at the ring, and I grit my teeth, hating to see it come off her finger.

“That’s not true,” I say. She’s taking the fall, and I can’t let her. This is my mess, and I need to clean it up.

She raises her chin. “It is true,” she says, her tone firm and certain. Her eyes glare at me, and me alone. They say, don’t you dare interrupt me. Charlotte looks to my dad, then Mr. Offerman. “It’s all on me. I needed Spencer to pose as my fiancé so my ex would leave me alone. I live in the same building as him, and it’s been awful since the split. Everyone knows he cheated on me, and I’ve dealt with their stares and looks of pity. But when he started begging me every day to take him back, I needed to do something drastic to make it stop.”

Mrs. Offerman nods imperceptibly. Her eyes seem to say she understands Charlotte’s plight. Charlotte is so damn convincing—but then, she doesn’t have to be convincing. She just has to be honest. Nearly everything she’s said so far is the truth. Even if the initial idea came from me, the rest of her story adds up.

Unlike my ruse.

“Charlotte, you don’t have to do this,” I say softly, just to her.

She shakes her head and speaks to the group. “No, I do have to do this. I asked him to pretend to be engaged to me so I could finally have some peace where I live. But please don’t blame Spencer. The fake engagement was all my choice, and he went along with it because he’s a really great guy, and he just wanted to help me. We planned everything, every detail, including how we would end it.” She sighs, but holds her chin high. “After one week, and now it’s been a week. So, I guess this is it.” She tugs off the ring. Her eyes are darker than I’ve ever seen them before. Inscrutable. She looks to the others. “It was never real, but not for the reasons you think.” She plunks the ring in my hand, and curls my fingers around it. “Thank you for pretending for me.”

She wraps me in a hug. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers, and my muscles tighten with a sick hope as I wait for more words just for me, words like, I’d like to thank the Academy, or Do I get a gold star for that performance? But they don’t come, and her apology feels as real as any words she’s ever uttered.

She breaks the embrace, casts her eyes to everyone else, and repeats herself. “I’m sorry.”

She leaves, walking away from me. No just kidding comes my way, because this is all too real, and each step she takes crushes me. Like a fool, I stand frozen at home plate, my insides a churning mess of emotions as the embarrassment shifts into something worse. Hurt. So much damn hurt, like my heart has become bruised. She doesn’t love me.

It was never real.

Mr. Offerman turns to my father. His nostrils flare. His eyes are hard. “I don’t care whose idea it was. I don’t do business with liars. The deal is off,” he says, slicing his hand through the air.

Rihanna’s “Take a Bow” plays from Emily’s sound system.

I cringe, and Mr. Offerman roars at his daughter. “Enough.”

On that count, we agree.





CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX


My head spins and my chest has a gaping hole in it.

That doesn’t stop Harper. She pulls no punches.

“Look.” Her hand clamps on my shoulder as she marches me through the park, Nick on my other side. “Your to-do list today just got a whole lot longer.”

It’s a good thing she’s guiding me, because I have no clue where I’m going or what I’m supposed to do. My dad took off fifteen minutes ago to deal with the cratering of the most important deal of his career, thanks to me. And Charlotte is history. I tried to find her, but she’s vanished in a puff of smoke. I could call her from Harper’s phone, but as the reality settles in like a dead weight in my heart, I’m not so sure I’m ready for that kind of self-inflicted torture just now. Hey, Charlotte. That’s a bummer that you’re not into me, but I had some ideas for our new marketing campaign? Oh, good. Glad you like my plans to sell more shots. Nachos are on you tonight.

“Okay. What’s on the to-do list?” I ask, my voice hollow. “Any chance it involves me waking up from this nightmare?”