7. Tess
Tess
T he doorbell rings just as I’m about to sit down for dinner. Soup and an everything bagel again—super fancy.
Opening the door, I find a huge brown box on the porch. What the hell? I can’t think of what I’ve ordered recently.
I glance at the return label and it’s from Black Tie, Inc. in Paris. Paris? And then all of a sudden, it hits me. These must be the dresses that Charlie ordered for me. Of course he ordered them from Paris. Doesn’t everyone order dresses for their fake dates from Paris?
I pull the box into the house and go in search of scissors. Dinner is going to have to wait. I need to see what’s inside this box immediately.
The first gown I pull out is a slinky navy satin floor-length number.
It has a low back and some beading on the bodice.
I hold it up to myself and I’m surprised that it’s long enough.
At five foot nine and a half, most full-length dresses are too short.
This one might actually even need to be hemmed.
Or I could wear it with my highest heels and the length might be perfect.
I love how tall Charlie is. It’s wonderful not to have to worry about how high my heels are. I honestly couldn’t wear a heel high enough to be taller than him. Definitely not the case with most men I’ve dated. It’s a fake date though, I remind myself for the hundredth time.
I’m still in shock that he told his dad we’re dating. How the hell did he think he was going to pull that one off? But he seems to think it won’t be any problem at all. I don’t know. It just seems so unrealistic.
I’ve known Charlie for most of my life and I’ve definitely had my fair share of fantasies about him. But I never actually thought I would ever get the chance to date him….even if it is just pretend.
I pull out the next dress which is a gorgeous sky blue and looks like it will hit right above my knees.
It has a tasteful V-neck and fluttery short sleeves.
The color is spectacular and I think it will work well with my skin tone.
I’m brunette with an olive complexion. If the sun ever came out for more than a day or two at a time in Seattle, I might actually get a tan.
But, even without much sun, my skin always has a bit of a golden glow.
At first glance the next dress looks to be a bit much. It’s a floral print and that’s not usually my jam. But looking at it more closely, I realize the colors together create a really stunning pattern. It’s frilly and kind of ruffly and looks like it would work well for a daytime wedding.
I’m about to pull out the next dress when my stomach growls, reminding me that I should probably eat first. I carefully drape the dresses over my couch and head back to my now-cold soup.
I reheat it quickly, scarfing down my simple dinner while my eyes keep drifting to the colorful array of fabric in my living room.
Charlie’s assistant has impeccable taste. Probably some gorgeous fashion-forward woman who knows exactly what looks good on other women. Is she tall and willowy with perfect hair? Or one of those effortlessly chic types who make the rest of us look like we're trying too hard?
I take another bite of my bagel and find myself wondering if Charlie finds her attractive. Has he ever thought about dating her? They probably spend so much time together, working late nights, traveling to business meetings. That's how office romances start, isn't it?
Not that I care. This is a fake relationship. Charlie can obviously date whoever he wants.
But still...I can't help wondering what she’s like. I’m pretty sure she’s not an old, frumpy grandma-type after seeing the dresses she’s chosen.
My mind wanders to whether Charlie will be wearing a tux to these weddings or just a suit and tie.
I’m guessing some of each. I think back to whether I’ve ever seen him in a tux and I’m almost certain I haven’t.
Definitely not anytime in the last few years.
I’m certain he’ll look amazing. With his height and muscly build, I’m certain he has to have his suits custom-made. Probably gets them from Paris…
After I finish eating, I head back into the living room to check out the rest of the dresses.
There is another burgundy dress that’s shorter and floofier, a bronze dress that’s form fitting and a deep green number that might just be my favorite.
It’s a luxurious chiffon, with an off the shoulder neckline.
The bodice is fitted and the waist has a delicate sash.
It’s the most sophisticated dress I have ever seen.
I carefully hang the dresses up in my closet, deciding to try them on later when I’m not so full.
If they fit, I can’t imagine I’ll want to send any of them back.
Each one is gorgeous in its own unique way.
Would it be rude to keep them all? I’m sure he spent hundreds if not thousands of dollars on each of them.
After flopping down on the couch in front of the TV, Art jumps up and settles into my lap, also facing the TV.
Art is a huge fan of Love Oasis and there’s a brand-new season out.
It amazes me that these people are gullible enough to think they’ll actually meet their perfect mate in a matter of two weeks.
The guys are usually total tools and I don’t know why any woman would want them. But, to each their own…
Later that night, I'm lying in bed, scrolling Instagram. I don't know why I waste my time. More often than not, I end up jealous of all the great vacations and over-the-top celebrations. It makes me feel like I'm not really living my life the way I’d like to.
But here I am, once again, in full scroll mode. I see a picture that makes me stop. It's five smiling faces, three of them I know very well.
The woman who posted, Claudia, is a friend who I don't see very often.
I used to be very close with two of the other women, but we had a falling out.
I don't follow them on social media anymore. From the looks of it, they’re out for a bachelorette party.
My ex-friend, Kiley, has on one of those stupid veils and all of their drinks are adorned with penis straws. All of that stuff is so stupid…
I'm pretty sure they're at one of the Seattle downtown bars, probably O'Malley's.
Kiley and I spent quite a bit of time together after college.
We both had moved away for college, me to Juilliard and her to Brown, and we’d both ended up back in Seattle.
We were great friends until I found out she was talking shit about me behind my back.
Saying things like I was a stuck-up rich bitch and thought I was better than everyone else.
Such a load of shit…I can feel my blood pressure going up just thinking about it.
I go to her profile to see who she’s marrying and I can’t believe my eyes. She’s marrying my ex-boyfriend, Hank Carter.
Hank and I dated for about a year and I was deeply in love with him. I had never been in a relationship like that. All I could think about was him. I wanted to be with him every minute of every day. I had dreams of us getting married eventually and having the perfect little family.
He was an amazing guy, and we had so much in common. He was also a musician but didn't make a living doing that. He was an elementary school teacher, and he would tell me hilarious stories about his kids, and we would laugh so hard we cried sometimes.
One night after dinner, he explained to me that he didn’t want the relationship to continue.
He had enjoyed our time together but felt like there was something missing.
He wasn't very clear on what that was and that made it really hard for me.
I know now that sometimes you can't put a finger on what’s missing. You just know it isn't right.
Just like me and James. He’s a good guy, but he just isn’t my guy, not for the long term at least.
I can't believe Kiley is marrying Hank. I feel like I could throw up. How did this even happen? They didn't even like each other when Hank and I were dating.
There were a few times we all went out and afterwards, Hank would make comments about how fake Kiley was. How she was too loud and too pushy. How is it that they are now in love and getting married?
I feel tears spring to my eyes thinking back to when Hank broke up with me and how I wondered if I'd ever find anyone again that was quite so perfect for me.
I toss my phone aside, unable to look at the happy faces any longer. The sting of betrayal mixes with a flood of old memories, and I find myself spiraling into a pit of self-doubt. Was I not good enough? Did Kiley have something I lacked?
Shaking my head, I force myself to take a deep breath. No, I won't go down this path again. I've spent too many nights questioning my worth because of failed relationships. Besides, I have more pressing matters to focus on—like how I'm going to pull off this fake dating charade with Charlie.
Charlie. Just thinking about him brings a smile to my face, momentarily chasing away the gloom. I wonder what he's doing right now. Is he thinking about our upcoming "dates" too? Or is he completely unfazed by the whole situation?
I grab my phone again, this time opening my messages. My thumb hovers over Charlie's name for a moment before I tap it.
Me: Hey. Just wanted to say thanks again for the dresses. They arrived and they're gorgeous.
I re-read the text then hesitate. Is that too formal? Too casual? I delete it and try again.
Me: The dresses arrived today. They're gorgeous. Your assistant has impeccable taste.
I hit send before I can overthink it further. Almost immediately, those three little dots appear. My heart does a weird flip-flop thing that I choose to ignore.
Charlie: Glad you like them. Can't wait to see you in them. Especially the green one.
I blink at the screen. How does he know about the green one? Did he pick them out himself? Before I can formulate a response, another message pops up.
Charlie: Sorry if that sounded creepy. I just meant the green seemed like it would suit you.
I feel a blush creeping up my cheeks. Is he flirting with me?
No, this is just Charlie being Charlie. Charming, funny, completely oblivious to the effect he has on me.
Me: No worries. The green is my favorite too. Though they're all stunning.
I pause, then text again.
Me: Your wallet must be feeling pretty light after this shopping spree.
His response comes quickly.
Charlie: Worth every penny if it helps sell our story. Plus, you deserve to feel beautiful.
My heart does that weird flip-flop thing again. I’m going to have to figure out how to be around him without being a total mess. I stare at his last message, unsure how to respond. My fingers hover over the keyboard, but nothing feels right. Too flirty, too casual, too desperate.
I finally settle on a simple response.
Me: Thanks, Charlie. Goodnight.
Charlie: Night, Tess. Sweet dreams.
I lean back against my pillows, my mind racing. This fake dating thing is going to be harder than I thought. How am I supposed to act like a normal person when just a text message from him has me all flustered? And how am I supposed to remember it's all pretend when he says things like that?