Page 51 of Off the Mark
“You’re not very princely, O’Callaghan,” I managed.
He lowered my hand but still held it. “Good thing too. Because you’re not a princess.”
Rowan released me, starting to stroll backward with a flirtatious tilt to his smile.
I propped my hands on my hips. “I can’t be a princess?”
He winked at me. “You can be whatever the hell you want, Maddox. I’m only sayin’ I was never into the princess in the story as a kid.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Who were you into?”
“It’s not obvious?” he asked.
I shook my head, enjoying taunting my fake boyfriend way too much.
“I was always into the warrior girl on the horse,” he said, nodding at me. “Obviously. Anyway, I’ll pick ya up in your hotel room tomorrow at seven.”
“Clown suit?” I asked, sure my cheeks were blazing red.
“You got it, babe.”
Then I watched Rowan walk back toward the subway for much too long, chanting the wordspretend, pretend, pretendover and over in my head.
13
CHARLIE
The next night I was leaning over the hotel dresser, fixing my eyeliner in the mirror, when a video call came through on the iPad I had propped up a few inches away.
I swiped to answer with one hand while continuing to fix my makeup with the other.
“Hey, Dad,” I said. “Thanks for that PBS recommendation on, uh…old boats. Can’t wait to watch it.”
There was some slightly muffled background noise and then, “Oh, honey, you’ll love it. Me and Penny are still talking about it. Aren’t we, Penny?”
I was never going to watch a twelve-part series on old-ass boats—and based on Penny’s barely grumbleduh-huhI was making the right choice.
Yet this newer, softer, domestic version of my dad wasn’t something I’d ever take for granted. Seeing him with his girlfriend and his rescue dogs and PBS subscription made my chest ache with the hope of it all.
Until I spotted the red eviction notice, hanging from a magnet on the fridge door behind him.
Dread washed over me, but I swallowed it down. Stepped fully into view, with a little smile and wave.
Dad clapped. “Look at you, dressed all fancy for the press. You look great, Charlie.”
Penny walked past in the background and hooted.
I brushed my hands over the front of my black, one-piece jumpsuit. The straps tied high around my neck, halter-style, and the back was low, the pants wide-legged. “Do I look all right?”
“Better than I ever did, showing up to those things.”
I tapped my chin. “Yeah, the ripped-jeans-and-leather-jacket look is all the rage right now. People are paying tribute to moto’s original bad boy.”
Dad scoffed. “I was only pulling whatever was clean from the laundry bin.”
“Same here,” I said, nodding down at my outfit.
This video call was helpful practice for the casual attitude I was projecting—an attitude I absolutelydid not feel. I’d gone shopping today. For clothing. In a goddamnstore. I’d taken one look at what I was planning on wearing tonight, thought about Rowan’s eyes on mine as he kissed my hand, and suddenly everything in my suitcase seemed inadequate.
