Just Pretend (Just… #1)

6. James

CHAPTER 6

JAMES

I thought fixing up Hallie’s Vespa, having something to do with my hands, would get her out of my head, but touching the handlebars where she grips onto every day, running my fingers over the smooth leather seat, even seeing a small scratch in the paint and wondering how it got there, only makes me more intrigued by my neurotic neighbor. In all the time I’ve lived next door to Hallie, I thought I had her pegged, but I’m starting to wonder if I was all wrong.

All this time, I figured Hallie had a stick up her ass and has likely never had a single day of fun in her life, but I’m starting to see another side of her. She might prefer to do things by the book, but she can also be impulsive. She’ll go off script if she’s truly passionate about something, and she does seem to truly love her job. I knew she worked at the vineyard, but I assumed she was an accountant or in marketing or something. The fact that she’s in sales means she must be pretty outgoing if she wants to be.

When the Vespa was working again, a quick fix that didn’t even require new parts, and I still couldn’t get my mind off of Hallie, I jumped on Tinder and found myself a date for the night. Being with someone else was just the trick. I was passed out in bed by midnight after quite the workout. Of course, a good night’s sleep came at a price when I ran into Hallie this morning as I was escorting my one-night stand to the door. I saw the way she looked at me, judging me, and while her obvious disgust was nothing new, the way it made me feel caught me by surprise.

No matter how hard I try to stop thinking about Hallie, she’s been popping into my thoughts all day, even as I work. I’m finishing up the mantlepiece while kicking myself for basically inviting myself along on Hallie’s office retreat. What the hell was I thinking? A whole week with her and her coworkers? Her boss seemed like a cool guy, but there’s definitely something wrong with that guy Chase. I don’t know if he has a thing for Hallie or he’s just out to get that promotion from her, but he was way too interested in our fake relationship.

In retrospect, I’m relieved that Hallie turned me down. It was an impulsive offer—flying out to Wyoming with a woman I hardly know to pretend to be her boyfriend—and it would have been painfully awkward. It’s one thing to pretend to be her boyfriend for a couple of minutes to show up that asshole co-worker of hers, but spending a whole week acting like we’re a couple is nothing I’m even remotely interested in attempting.

My phone buzzes in my back pocket, the only way I know it’s ringing when I have the machinery going in the workshop. Shutting everything down and taking off my gloves and goggles, I check the caller ID and let out a sigh when I see my mother’s name on the screen.

I should have known that saying no to my brother when he was here wouldn’t be the end of the matter. When Trey’s visit didn’t get the desired results, my mother decided she would step in and take care of the matter herself. She knows that I hate saying no to her and she’s also well aware that I won’t blow her off. As tempting as it is to ignore the call, she’s my mom, and she hasn’t done anything to elicit the contempt I feel for my brother, or the outright rage I’m still harboring against my father. My mother is the only real connection I have left to my family.

No matter what happened with my father and the family business, no matter how many times my brother has tried to reel me back in, or how long it’s been since my dad and I have spoken, my mom has never let that come between us. She calls me often to check in; she tells me about what my father and brother are up to, refusing to pussy-foot around the topic. She sends me pictures of my niece and nephew at their soccer games and videos of their school concerts. A weaker woman would have followed her husband’s lead and cut me off, but my mom is the strongest, most independent person—man or woman—that I know.

Most importantly, she never tried to convince me to come crawling back. She’s the only one in the family who understands that there’s a lot more to life than wealth and power and that everything I lost was worth what I gained—and I lost a lot when I turned my back on the family business. Maybe the peace of mind of taking the moral high road won’t pay my bills like my trust fund would have, but I’m not doing so bad with my shop, and working with my hands is more satisfying than real estate development ever was. My mother understands all of that and, deep down, I think she respects me for it.

“Hey Mom,” I finally answer the call, leaning up against my work bench. This call is likely to be a long one.

“I’m going to cut to the chase,” Mom says to me, never one for idle chit chat, especially when she’s on a mission. “I know you know why I’m calling.”

“Yes, I do,” I groan. “And I should have known Trey was only following your marching orders. I’m going to tell you what I told him: the answer is no. It was no yesterday, it’s no today, and it will be no right up until the day of the party.”

“Trey thought he could get through to you,” Mom tells me. “I had a feeling it was a fool’s errand, but I thought it would be good for the two of you to spend some time together.”

“Actually, it was,” I reluctantly admit. “Up to a point.”

“I know you won’t come to the party for your dad, but will you do it for me?” Mom asks, not wasting any time in bringing out the big guns—a good old fashion guilt trip.

I hate that she played that card, especially since she knows I would do anything for her. Having my mother’s support and respect means everything to me and I don’t want to lose her the way I’ve lost the rest of my family. I just wish she could stand by me with this decision just like she always has.

“The party is a week away,” Mom continues. “We’ve rented out a block of rooms at the Ritz in Half Moon Bay. It will be a lovely event. Think of it as a weekend away, some time to catch up with the extended family and friends you haven’t seen in a while. Shake your father’s hand, say happy birthday, and that will be the extent of it. Just being there is enough. And of course, you’re welcome to bring a date.”

I sit up, struck by the idea of bringing a date to my father’s big birthday bash. The last woman I brought home to meet the parents was Simone, and that didn’t end well, to say the least. Besides, even if I wanted to go to the party, even if I wanted to bring a date, I don’t have anyone to invite.

“Mom…” I sigh, wishing she would back off.

“Just think about it, will you?” she pleads. “I don’t need an answer right now, but it would mean so much to me and to your father.”

“I highly doubt that,” I scoff, shaking my head. “You’re the only person who really cares if I’m there, Mom.”

“Connor would be thrilled to see you.”

“Connor thinks of me as his fun uncle and he knows I’ll find a way to sneak him an extra slice of cake,” I reply. “Dad, on the other hand, doesn’t give a shit if I’m there or not, no matter what you say. He made his position very clear.”

There’s a pause on the line and I know my mother doesn’t have much of an argument to make.

“You know your father,” she finally says, her voice softer. “Sometimes he speaks out of anger, but deep down he doesn’t mean it. You’re still his son and he loves you.”

He has a funny way of showing it, I think to myself, my inner voice dry and emotionless as if I had said the words aloud. I don’t need to say anything, though. My mother knows what I’m thinking.

“He’s not an easy man, James,” she sighs. “But I know his heart like I know my own. He loves you.”

“Look, Mom, I hear you. I don’t agree with you, but it doesn’t matter. Honestly, I don’t even know my schedule for the week. I have a lot of custom orders I need to fill, and I’ll be spending a lot of time in my workshop.”

“So business is doing well?” Mom asks, her voice perking up with interest.

“Yeah, really well,” I tell her. “Why don’t you come up sometime and I’ll show you what I’m working on?”

“I’d love that,” she replies. “I’m really happy for you, James. I’m so glad that you found something you love.”

“Thank you,” I reply, swallowing to keep myself from choking up.

With so much weighing on my mind, I decide to head home and quickly get changed. The next best thing to sex for clearing my head is going for a run, so that’s what I do. No ear buds, no tracking my time or distance, just keeping my head down and pushing myself to my limit, sweating out the toxins of the day and feeling each breath scorching my lungs. I can’t go on like that forever, though, and the moment I start to slow my pace, all of my intrusive thoughts creep right back into my brain.

The last thing I want to do is let my mother down. After she has stood by me all this time, taking my side, even fighting for me when my father revoked my trust, I feel like I owe her. I just wish she was asking me for literally anything else. I would build her a house with my bare hands if she asked me to. I would give her an organ or even a limb. My mother is the most important person in my life right now, and yet I can’t help feeling like she’s asking for too much. I just can’t deal with the family politics involved with even the seemingly simple act of being in the same room as my father. The idea of shaking his hand, forcing a smile and wishing him a happy birthday is unbearable.

There are only so many ways a weekend with my family could go, and none of them end well. Either my dad refuses to acknowledge me, and I extended an olive branch for nothing; he tries to talk me into coming back into the fold and I leave abruptly, having put myself out there for nothing; or else we end up getting into a huge fight and causing a scene in front of California’s elite. Why can’t my mother see that this is a no-win situation?

By the time I get back to my apartment, I’m just as resolved as I ever was that there is no way I can go to this party, and I have to find a way out of it. As much as I love my mother, I can’t do it. I’m not trying to be selfish—I really don’t think it would be good for anyone. My presence is only going to ruin the weekend. The problem is that my mother is unlikely to take a simple no for an answer. If I’m going to get her to accept I won’t be attending my father’s birthday party, I need to find a good—and legitimate—reason for not being able to make it. Unfortunately, I have no idea what the hell that might be.