"No. This is how it needs to be."
He pulled a single red rose from the giant rose and orchid bouquet. Holding onto the one flower, he gently placed the bouquet on the gravestone before touching it delicately. He then turned around and quickly grabbed me, holding me tight, his lips pressed against my forehead.
The tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. I wrapped my arms around him tightly as I sobbed. Being in his arms always felt so right, and now it was over. I didn't want to let go but I knew I didn't have a choice.
He stepped back, breaking my hold on him. Gently wiping the tears from my cheek with his thumb, he softly kissed my lips then handed me the single rose before walking to his car.
I stood frozen to the ground as I watched his car head out of the cemetery. I didn't care about the job or where I would live, I only cared about losing him. He might have been falling for me, but I had already fallen for him--hard. A part of me left when he did, and I knew I would do anything to get that part back.
Chapter Twenty
Ashley
I couldn't move. Xander's car was gone. He was gone. Stunned, I stood in front of his wife's grave, still holding the rose he gave me.
At some point, I must have run out of tears. I knew I cried when he left, but the tears stopped. It felt like he had yanked my heart from my chest and stomped on it, and the empty hole continued to ache.
I knew I had to go. I had to drive back to Jefferson Manor and figure things out. He said I could stay there but I didn't want to risk seeing him. I knew if I didn't get away, I would never get over him.
My cell phone ringing snapped me out of my reverie. Zombie-like, I answered without glancing at the caller ID.
"This is Ashley," I croaked, my voice filled with emotion.
"This is Drake Winslow. Xander Boone recommended you for an assistant's position with me. Will you be available tomorrow for a lunch meeting?" His voice was deep and formal.
"Umm, yes?"
"Very good. I'll have a Town Car pick you up at noon. Don't dress for an interview, dress for lunch. We'll be at Le Chateau."
While the call pulled me out of my shock at Xander ending things, I was left even more confused. Drake hung up, and I stared at the phone with surprise. Who was this guy?
I wondered how much Xander told him. He said Drake was an old friend, the man I saw him with in the Hawaiian conference room. I hoped he didn't recognize me.
Our brief conversation was enough to turn me off. I had enough problems with one crazy billionaire, I didn't need to work for another. Then again, I really needed a place to live. I wasn't getting that without a job. I probably wouldn't have agreed to meet with him if I wasn't suddenly unemployed.
I drove back to The Manor in silence. Usually I listened to music while driving, but I couldn't stand any other sound than the hum of my car at that moment. No, not my car, his car. He didn't say anything about returning it to him, but it wouldn't be right of me to keep it. I guessed it was back to the bus for me. Having a car was nice while it lasted.
When I got to my room, I opened my laptop and searched for Drake Winslow. Overwhelmed by how many hits the search engine got, I decided to skim through a few of the headlines.
The Winslow family were Hollywood royalty. My lunch meeting was with Drake Winslow the Third. I couldn't help but hear that in my head with a snobby accent. His grandfather bought his first movie studio in the 1930s and produced some of the biggest movies in history. As the business and the family grew, film rights were passed down through the generations, enabling Drake the Third to own several production companies and date the actresses in his films.
He was tall, tanned, and had dirty blond hair. He looked more like he should be in front of the camera, not behind it. He was a tabloid fixture and notorious womanizer. Drake Winslow dated starlets, singers, models – anything in a skirt. It seemed if the woman was beautiful, she would eventually end up on his arm at an event or in his private jet, but it never lasted long.
The next morning, I looked through my closet at the clothes Joshua made for me. I knew if it wasn't for Joshua's clothing, I wouldn't have anything to wear to this lunch meeting. I pulled out a black, cherry-printed vintage style dress with a sweetheart neckline, full skirt, and a red patent leather belt. Having never gone to Le Chateau, I didn't know what to wear, but the dress seemed like the perfect combination of elegant and casual.
As a far off church bell chimed the time, I heard the sound of a car pull up to the house on the gravel driveway. I wore my hair down in loose waves and matched the dress with a simple pair of black pumps. As I stepped outside, the driver opened the back door for me then closed it once I was in.
Having people open doors for me wasn't something I thought I would get used to, but it was really nice. I watched as the countryside changed from rolling hills to concrete once we neared the bustling downtown of Canyon Cove. As we slowed down for a stoplight, I saw Le Chateau ahead. It was both an old hotel and a restaurant and probably the most renowned building in all of downtown.
Taking up the entire block, Le Chateau looked like a large French castle that made the street its moat. It was at least six stories high and made of white stucco with a dark grey roof. While it shouldn't have stood out in a city with tall modern buildings, somehow the building held its own. Le Chateau was also famous for its rock stars and actors who lived, partied, and sometimes died there.
As I stepped out of the car, flashbulbs popped. Blinded, I lowered my head against the onslaught of cameras until the driver took my hand and led me into the restaurant. I expected to see paparazzi outside since Le Chateau was such a popular spot, but I didn't think they would take pictures of just anyone.
I recognized the interior of the restaurant from movies and TV shows. The familiar terra cotta tile, cream walls, tall arched windows, and exposed wood beam ceiling made me feel at ease even though deep down I knew I shouldn't be there. My place was with the tourists who stretched their necks for a peek, not having lunch.
The driver whispered something to the hostess, and she smiled and nodded at me as she picked up a leather-bound menu.
"Mr. Winslow is waiting for you. Please follow me," said the hostess.
As we approached the white linen-covered table, I recognized Drake from Hawaii. His hair was parted on the side and swept back from his tanned face. He was elegant like a movie star, yet had a boyish quality to him. When I reached the table, he smiled, his teeth gleaming. His warm brown eyes squinted a little, showing his age. He was absolutely gorgeous and would have made a great distraction, but to me, he couldn't compare to Xander.
"Ashley Monroe, I'm Drake Winslow. Please sit down."
"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Winslow."
"No, call me Drake. I have to say Xander didn't tell me what you looked like, but I took a gamble and assumed you'd be beautiful. Why else would he want to help you?" He smiled and laughed softly as I blushed. I could tell he didn't recognize me from Hawaii, and I was glad about that. "Tell me Ashley, are you dating anyone?"
"I'd rather not answer personal questions. I'm here for an interview. You said needed an assistant?"
I tried changing the subject, hoping to move the conversation to the reason I was there. I didn't know why he was being so inappropriate at an interview, but I did not want to talk about what happened between Xander and me.
"Yes, an assistant. Let's call it that." He smiled and looked around before moving his chair a little closer to mine, then dropped his voice to a whisper. "I have a proposition for you. I was hoping you'd be attractive, because no one would believe it otherwise. I need a girlfriend, and I'm hoping to hire you for that."
"What?!" I searched his face to see if he was joking, but he wasn't. I stood up. "You've got the wrong girl. I don't know what Xander told you, but--" He reached out and grabbed my hand.
"No, not like that. Sit down. Now!" His voice was stern, and I immediately sat down without thinking. "Listen to me and keep your mouth shut until I'm done. The
paparazzi out there? I can't get away from them. I've tried dating unknowns, I've dated movie stars. It doesn't matter, it all gets too overwhelming for them, so they leave. I want to have a normal life, a wife and kids. I'm forty-one years old and I know I'm missing out on a lot." He sighed and looked down at the table for a moment. "I don't know how I'll meet the girl for me. I have to make sure she's not after my wealth or my name. It's complicated. Meantime, there's them." He motioned over his shoulder to the windows where photographers were trying to get pictures of the interior of the restaurant.
"I'm sorry, but you can't just pay someone to do that."
"I'm not done." He shot me a look, and I knew to keep quiet. "My publicist suggested I find a long-term girlfriend. His opinion is that eventually the public will get tired of seeing me with the same woman all the time and prices for the photos will drop, and then I'll get a little privacy back." He leaned in a little further. "I will pay you to attend events and whatever else I would bring a date to. In return, you keep our arrangement to yourself." He looked at me long and hard. "Now you may speak."
Speechless, I stared at him, still waiting for the punchline. His plan was crazy! What did he think I was? Arm candy for the rich and famous? Ha! Me, arm candy! The idea made me laugh out loud, and he sat back and smiled.
"You're insane!" I finally said.
"Maybe, but I'm hoping this is crazy enough to work. Just think about it, okay? After lunch, I want to show you something else."
I had a great time at lunch with Drake. He was funny and smart, and I enjoyed myself. I understood why he was a ladies' man, he had a magnetism that was hard to resist.
He knew everyone and had personal stories about movie stars that were even more outlandish than anything I read in the tabloids at the supermarket check-out line. I thought about his offer and wondered if pretending to be his girlfriend would always be lighthearted and fun like this lunch.
His car was parked in a private garage underneath Le Chateau and after a quick drive, we pulled into another underground garage. He slipped a card into the elevator and the doors opened immediately.
"I own this apartment building. As part of your compensation, I would like you to live here so I know you'll be safe. There is a bellhop and security at the main entrance so no one can come in unless they're invited." The elevator slowed and the doors opened up again. I followed him down a quiet beige carpeted hall with pinstriped wallpaper to a door. "Let me know what you think."
He opened the door to reveal a sunken living room. At one end of the room was a large stone two-sided fireplace with the kitchen just beyond that. A doorway at the other end of the room led to the bedroom. The apartment was furnished with contemporary furniture and felt modern yet comfortable at the same time. I must have been grinning from ear to ear because Drake smiled with a satisfied expression.
"This is great! It's like I stepped into a magazine."
"It's yours. You can move in now if you'd like...if you take the job of course." He grinned like a cat that swallowed a mouse, knowing my answer before I gave it to him.
"I'll do it. I'll be your girlfriend."
"Your first assignment is this Saturday. There's a benefit for my museum that Xander put together. He'll be there, so you'll know someone besides me. The fundraiser is a costumed event and everyone will be dressed as glamorous movie characters. I'm going as Robert Redford from The Great Gatsby. You can choose whoever you'd like."
I barely heard him after hearing Xander's name. I needed to catch Xander's attention and make him realize he made a mistake. There was only one person I knew who could help me with that--Joshua. He had to come up with something amazing for me to wear.
Chapter Twenty-One
Xander
I woke up and rolled over to look at the digital clock sitting on the small nightstand. 3am. The cottage was chillier than it should have been in early September. I got up, put on a pair of jeans and a heavy old sweatshirt, and tossed the last log into the fire, hoping it would last until morning.
It had been days since I last saw her, but it felt much longer. I wanted to stay in my condo in the city but knowing that Ashley was still in the house, I felt compelled to be near her, wondering if I could catch a glimpse of her.
I thought about her endlessly. That had to stop. I didn't need someone in my life. I didn't want to feel that pain again. I couldn't imagine losing someone again like I lost Darcy.
I couldn't even say her name. Just thinking of her was difficult. Guilt consumed me the same way illness consumed Darcy. With all my money, there was nothing I could do. What good was money if it couldn't help the people you love?
Watching her deteriorate was the most difficult thing I ever did in my life. Darcy was always so full of life. Even at the end, she never wanted anyone to worry about her. I would never forget the way she smiled. It lit up the room. Even in the hospital.
Darcy changed my life. In college and graduate school, I kept myself in a drugged and drunken haze. Despite that, I graduated on time, something I was certain had to do with my last name. Jaded by my experiences as Alexander Boone, I left everything behind and worked as a cook in a small restaurant away from Canyon Cove.
Darcy waited tables there and had no idea what the last name Boone meant to people. It was refreshing to find someone who didn't bow to me because of my name, someone who stood up to me and treated me like everyone else. Watching how the restaurant worked, I thought I could help improve things and help the owner realize his dream of a second location.
I created AJB Restaurants and got lucky. I contacted old school friends who worked in the banking industry and helped small family-owned restaurants get the funding they needed to expand. My pay came from the banks who paid me a finder's fee.
Things grew so quickly, I needed help and immediately thought of Darcy. Even though I had asked her out many times, she always turned me down. Darcy was looking for something that paid more than waitressing and I thought if she wouldn't date me, I could spend more time with her if she worked for me.
She only waitressed to pay for her massive student loans. During the day, she was an art teacher in an elementary school, but it didn't pay enough. She would joke that that's what she deserved for majoring in Art History, a joke I continued to use after her death.
Somehow, she fell in love with me and she made me the happiest man in the world when we got married. By then I had several companies under the Boone Enterprises umbrella, which was separate from anything my family did.
It was Darcy who wanted to purchase Jefferson Manor, then a dilapidated money pit, but she saw its beauty. Darcy even convinced me the art gallery was a good idea, and it was in her honor that I begrudgingly attended each gallery opening. The art gallery was another reminder of what I had lost when she died.
While I closed Jefferson Manor and moved out after her death, I kept the art gallery open. I didn't want everything of Darcy's to die with her. I just couldn't face that house anymore. At my request, my mother handled the packing of the mansion and hired Tara to manage the stables.
After three years of avoiding Jefferson Manor, I knew I needed to either sell it or move back in. It wasn't fair to Darcy's memory to let it become the dilapidated mess it once was. Returning, I found the house full of memories. It was as if her ghost walked the rooms, especially our bedroom, but I couldn't touch it.
Ashley brought back the happy memories of Darcy. How she held her ground when I tried to intimidate her. The way her face lit up when she smiled and the entire room dissolved so there was nothing but her.
The similarities between Ashley and Darcy were obvious to me, and I convinced myself it was those attributes that attracted me to Ashley. While I hadn't let myself feel anything for anyone after Darcy, I was sure what I felt for Ashley was only me grasping for the past. Either way, I refused to suffer again.
I poked at the dying fire, trying to make it last longer, but no such luck. It was early for the temperatures to drop so low, and I wasn't prepared
for it. I got up and looked over at the house with its dark windows.
The house was large enough that I could sleep in one of the spare bedrooms and no one would know. While I wanted to see Ashley, I knew I couldn't. I needed to get her out of my system, and seeing her black almond-shaped eyes and bee-stung lips was too much for me.
I walked along the gravel up to the main house and quietly slipped through the back door. Knowing Ashley was alone in the big house, I didn't want to wake or startle her. Enough sunlight began to peek through the trees to light the way through the hall and upstairs to the circular study, where the hallway branched off to the bedrooms.
Entering the study, my eyes immediately went to one of the large armchairs in the center of the room. Curled up in the chair was Ashley in a large, comfortable-looking robe, her hair wild around her shoulders. I blinked a couple of times to make sure I wasn't dreaming, but I smelled vanilla and knew it really was her.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ashley
"You should be sleeping."
My heart leapt into my chest when he spoke. He startled me, but that wasn't why my heart suddenly pounded in my chest. He looked better than ever with his worn jeans and disheveled hair.
"Who are you? My father?"
I saw the briefest smile play upon his lips. As he crossed the study towards the bedrooms, I wondered how someone could look so sexy in a suit but even better dressed down.
"Luckily, no. Good night, Miss Monroe."
"Xander, wait." I got up from the chair and caught up to him in the hall. "I'm moving out today."
"You know you don't have to. You can stay until you find a new place."
"I have a new place. Drake has an empty apartment and offered it to me. I decided to take the job."
"Oh. Congratulations then."
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