All the Days After

by Carrie Thorne

  Daggers coming out of his eyes, it was clear Grady wasn’t born yesterday. Glancing down, he saw the lingering tenting action going on. Gritting his teeth, Grady went to the rack to grab his tux. He opened his mouth to say something but managed to hold it back.

  For now.

  ***

  A disembodied arm shot into the dressing room, her bra dangling from the hand.

  “Thanks,” she said in a shaky breath. Shit. Grady totally knew.

  Dressing as quickly as possible, Sophie hung up her dress with the new bra and added it to the rack. Asher was gone by the time she got out. Guilt left a nasty taste in her mouth, but not because of what they’d just done. That she wouldn’t, couldn’t regret.

  Despite some of her rebellion on escaping from her aunt, she’d never been excessively promiscuous. Never would have had the gall to do something like that in a dressing room. Not that she planned to make a habit of it, but around Asher, she was overwhelmed with exciting sensations of lust and thrill and… a deep-seated happiness.

  Lucy shuffled back in a few minutes later. Wordlessly, she grabbed her tailoring gear and waited at the pedestal for the final groomsman.

  Looking dashing in a perfectly completed tuxedo, Grady came out of dressing room number one a moment later. He barely spared Sophie a glance. Good thing, as Sophie had no idea what to say. Knew the word GUILTY was pasted across her forehead in big, bold red ink.

  Lucy was well into her inspection when Grady couldn’t stay silent any longer. “How long?” He glanced at Sophie through the mirror. His expression dark, lips drawn tight.

  She wanted to act like she didn’t know what he was asking but was never one to lie. Omitting the truth was bad enough. “It’s not what you think.”

  “So, you weren’t just fucking Asher?” Acid spit from his mouth, somehow his tone even more callous than the harsh words he spoke. Lucy’s hand shook as she pinned the cuffs. Too bad she wasn’t working on the crotch area and pricked the prick.

  “I said, it’s not what you think. I… Asher… Yes, we’ve been sort of seeing each other. Yes, we had a… moment in the dressing room.” Why was she answering to him? She didn’t owe him anything. Pippa and Lincoln had certainly been trying to push them together, but she didn’t think she’d ever led him to think they were an item.

  “Hey, if you’re looking to be another bedpost notch, I’ll accommodate you. Likely with a little more finesse.” His words were still acid, but his expression was rapidly revealing more hurt than anger.

  Hoping she hadn’t hurt him, hadn’t led him on, she didn’t know whether to smack him upside the head for being an asshole or let him down easy. She settled for somewhere in between. “So far your finesse is seriously lacking. I like you Grady. I did, anyway. It’s none of your damn business what goes on between Asher and me. But… I’m happy.”

  Expression pained, his brow scrunched, he glanced again at her through the mirror. Lucy continued her pinning, feigning disinterest and thankfully not acknowledging the conversation. In this business, she might as well get used to dressing room talk.

  Sophie fought the threatening tears, terrified she’d lose her best friend, Asher, or both. “With the wedding coming up and Pippa already stressed out, we don’t want anyone to know just yet. Please. Whatever your feelings, for Pippa’s sake, and by extension Lincoln’s, please don’t say anything.”

  Inhaling deeply, exhaling slowly, Grady nodded. “I won’t say anything. But, when he does exactly what everyone expects him to do, I’m not taking sloppy seconds.” Poor Lucy’s hands were quivering uncontrollably.

  “I think you can finish up here by yourself.” Shoving Pippa’s wedding tablet into her purse, she stormed out of the building.

  ***

  Sophie slammed the CR-V door, furious with Grady. Furious with Pippa. She didn’t regret one minute with Asher. If she’d just brought her stupid bra to the fitting room. None of Grady’s business, that was for damn sure.

  Trying her best to not exceed the speed limit or run any stop signs in her fury, Sophie drove home overly cautiously. She did let herself kick up a bit too much dust on the driveway in her anger. Asher’s truck was in the garage, his legs sticking out from under it again.

  Calming herself as best she could, she walked over and hunched down to get his attention. “Hey,” she said.

  Wheeling out from under the truck, he smiled sadly when he saw her. “Hey.” Rising to stand in front of her, Asher brushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes but didn’t linger.

  “Grady’s pissed, but he won’t say anything.” She stood inches away, afraid to touch him or she’d fall apart.

  “What did he say?” Asher raised his hand to touch her again, but pulled away before he made the contact they both craved.

  “Nothing that would surprise you. Comments about bedpost notches, sloppy seconds.” Before she knew it, her fingernails were right in her mouth. Dammit, not again. After getting that one last bit that she just couldn’t resist, she shoved her hands in her pockets.

  Clenching his jaw so tight she was afraid he may break a tooth, he seethed. “I’ve said it before, but maybe we really should hold off for a bit. Everyone’s tense, ready to pounce on anyone for just about anything.”

  A stray tear rolled down her cheek. Stupid emotions. Sniffling before any other emotion tried to trickle down her face, Sophie nodded.

  She liked angry better. Unleashing a taste of the resentment she’d been holding back, she stomped her foot. “No. I like you. Even if this fizzles,” she gestured between the two of them, “I’m not going anywhere. This is my life, and I get to decide who I date. I’ve given up enough on behalf of others. No matter how much I love your sister, this is my life and my decision.”

  She paused, briefly, but clearly was on a roll. “I’m a grownup. I’m not going to stop being Pippa’s friend if I get mad at you. Decent people don’t judge others based on the behavior of others.”

  Still standing back, hands shoved deeply in his pockets, Asher looked torn. “I haven’t given up enough for others. Certainly not my family. For that, I should give you up–”

  Heart already breaking, she turned to leave. Not wanting to hear the rest.

  Running to catch her, Asher didn’t touch her but stopped in front to slow her progress. “Wait, I wasn’t finished, dammit. You’re so certain of rejection… I’m not giving up on this,” like she had, he gestured between the two of them. “As much as I’ve always come off as a selfish bastard, I’ve also spent my entire life floundering, not finding anything that mattered enough to stand up for.”

  Shaking his head, he searched the cluttered garage for the right words. Satisfied with his next words, his gazed bored into her. “I want you. I’m going to fight for you. Whatever it takes.”

  Asher, someone she was attracted to beyond reason, a man she enjoyed even just coexisting with, was pledging to fight for her. There wasn’t anyone she trusted to truly fight for her in a really, really long time, and he had a hell of a reputation working against him. Despite all that, she believed him.

  Brushing away her tear with his thumb, his tone became less strained, his tense muscles easing. “You’re gorgeous, thoughtful, intelligent. Stubborn, fierce. Sexy as fuck.” He grinned at her, gulping down the final lump of uncertainty. “It was clear Pippa and Lincoln had wanted you and Grady to hit it off. He wanted it, too. Looked at you longer than I like. Checked out your tits enough I wanted to sock him.”

  With a small, teary chuckle, she teased, “My tits?”

  “Hey, when an opponent is staring at your girl’s magnificent breasts, it’s easy to get a little crass. He was making some pretty obvious moves in your direction. You just weren’t paying attention.” Asher pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her. His cheek rested on the top of her head.

  “I was too busy noticing someone else’s moves,” she chuckled as she burrowed in.

  “I do have some good moves.” His chest expanded as he inhaled deeply. �
��As usual, I fucked up everyone’s plans. I’m having trouble regretting it this time.”

  Her face nuzzled against him, she nodded. “We’ll figure it out.” Feeling so remarkably at home in his arms, she knew it was true.

  13

  Invigorated after a refreshing swim on a hot day, Sophie walked up the stairs and grabbed her towel. Warmed from the sun, the heat from the towel radiated into her bones. Her stomach was starting to growl, reminding her again that she had missed lunch.

  Well past four in the afternoon, it was nearly dinnertime. Maybe she could spend a quiet birthday dinner in her room with some reheated lasagna and a massive glass of wine. If all went well, she could have her way tonight without any arguing about how birthdays should be spent.

  After enough lonely birthdays, she certainly didn’t mind another quiet evening alone. Preferred it, actually. Especially with this being one of the biggest birthdays of her life, financially anyway. Lingering to let the sun dry off some of the drips, she didn’t rush back to change.

  She should have. A thick cloud of dust came barreling down the driveway. Everyone she knew was either already here or at work for at least another hour, maybe two for Paul. Emerging from the dust cloud, she could see a white convertible Camaro coming down the drive.

  Sliding on her flipflops, she wrapped the towel around herself and tried to sneak in the back door of the house to avoid talking to a stranger in her swimsuit. Pippa and Denise were both inside and could answer the doorbell. Looking across the way, she could see Asher poking his head out of the garage to see who would be driving up so recklessly.

  Before Sophie could reach the house, the car came to a screeching halt, kicking up another puff of dust. Stepping out was a busty, platinum bleached blond in a leopard print dress and heels. Shit. No sense putting it off, Sophie stepped into view.

  “Happy birthday.” Suddenly calm and gracious, Yvette walked across the entrance to the pool area. She held out a small, wrapped package.

  “What are you doing here?” Niceties were long gone. They had disappeared years ago.

  Right around the time Yvette sold off the few heirlooms she had from her parents. Her mother’s wedding ring, her father’s military medals, the quilt her grandmother had made for her shortly before she passed away. Sophie had stuck out the last two weeks of high school and was gone.

  At eighteen and three months, she lived out of a motel for the duration of the summer before starting at UCLA. During those months, and her first year or two at college, she’d gone a little nuts after six years of feeling miserable. Tried a few bad habits she quickly learned were not her style.

  Yvette looked all innocence. “I wouldn’t miss your birthday for anything.” Looking Sophie up and down in her bikini, towel, and flipflops, she cringed. Gesturing awkwardly, she poorly attempted to compliment her. “And I wanted to see that you’re looking well. That these Sutherland folks are taking good care of you.”

  It ached to know her aunt may have remembered her birthday every year, as she clearly knew the day, but hadn’t bothered until it meant a few hundred-thousand-dollar payoff. Too little, too late.

  “Didn’t I just give you enough money to last until you nailed the Netflix job?” Sophie made to leave, but Yvette grabbed her arm. Her long, fake nails dug into Sophie’s skin before Yvette remembered Sophie didn’t respond to violence. She’d only tried it once, but Sophie already had a decent right hook by then. Bruises didn’t get Hollywood wannabes jobs.

  “Yes, and thank you. My landlord has backed off a bit. Really, I have apologized more than enough for missing your birthdays.” Yvette’s expression was all regret. Ha.

  “And selling my family’s belongings. And tarnishing my reputation, more than a few times. Oh, and for never being the grownup.”

  There was always another job she was counting on soon. But, if it was her own money that she’d actually earned, Yvette needed to invest it in the next job, not frivolities such as food and electricity. Investment usually meant more plastic surgery, makeup, hair stylist appointments, mani-pedis. “You are so much better of a person than I could ever be. Your sweet mother passed that on to you. I appreciate everything you’ve ever done for me.”

  Moving onto excessive sweetness was never a good sign. Sophie tore free of her grip and continued toward the house. She knew exactly what Yvette was here for. Wasn’t sure she could handle it.

  “Please. I took you in–” Yvette’s tears were in full force, her body limp with hopelessness.

  “Because I was a nice source of steady income. Someone to tell you how nice you looked, what a great actress you were, how generous you were.” Letting loose the final resentment she’d been harboring, Sophie kept her voice calm but was vibrating inside. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go. My mother would never have chosen you if she’d had any other choice. Perhaps you should have skipped the last Botox, nails, the airfare to come here, the fancy car rental… and not bothered to show up here.”

  That was enough for Yvette. Like flipping a switch, she was in full-bitch mode. “You’ll have had full access to your funds since this morning. If you cared about me and my future at all–”

  Sophie scoffed, astonished somehow. “How do you think you’re entitled to a share of my inheritance? You blew through yours before I was even born.” Sophie knew this day would come but couldn’t help being astonished at her aunt’s narcissism. Couldn’t help her disgust.

  “For putting up with your antics, yes.” Yvette walked as close as she dared, standing tall in her stilettoes to drive the point home. Her voice low, she sneered, “I’ll make you a deal. You give me half, and I’ll stay out of your life. Forever.”

  Sophie backed away, turning toward the house again. Yvette wasn’t done yet. Anticipating the threats, Sophie couldn’t decide whether to hear them out or to run away, plugging her ears and yelling la la la la la.

  “What do you think will happen if you don’t? This is sure a sweet little town you’ve decided to settle in. It would be too bad if all of your clients found out about the embezzlement scandal I helped get you out of a few years back. Or perhaps that little prostitution ring you were running before you left LA? I could keep going, it just depends on how quickly you come through for me.” Yvette was almost giddy now from her deviousness.

  Seething, Sophie stood tall, eye to eye with Yvette in her bare feet to Yvette’s heels. With all of Yvette’s creativity, it was astonishing she was so unsuccessful in life. “I actually should thank you for teaching me how to be practical, frugal, and love myself for who I am. You’re not getting one more cent from me. Go home. Don’t ever contact me again.”

  Her hand finally on the front door, she ignored Yvette’s finally plea as she started sobbing melodramatically in the driveway. “Please,” she cried.

  A rumbling voice from behind them spoke up. “If you don’t leave this property immediately, I’m calling the police.” Sophie’s hand stilled on the doorknob mid-turn. Asher had been clearly listening in. He’d let Sophie handle it, then he was there to back her up when she needed it.

  Instantly switching to the charming vixen, Yvette strutted like a hungry cat towards Asher. “What’s this? Little Sophie find herself a handsome boyfriend? If she won’t share her money, maybe she’ll share you.”

  Holding his ground, he didn’t flinch when she ran her long red nails along his shoulder. His arms folded across his chest, he remained expressionless, unmoving until she got the point. Wow, she certainly was dense. Her hand ran down his back and slapped him on the ass as she circled her prey. Still ignoring, he didn’t move.

  Sophie would have socked her by now. Was tempted to intervene, but it was interesting to watch Asher not reacting in the least. She could use a few lessons on ignoring.

  Putting on a pouty, dejected expression, Yvette finally stepped back. “Well, you’re no fun.” Glancing back to her niece, she used her innocently sweet expression that could have won her an Oscar, “My dear, dear Sophie. You have four days. Au
revoir.”

  Turning on her heel, Yvette sauntered back to her shiny rental convertible. Suffocating dust billowed behind the wheels as she flew down the driveway. Yvette meant what she said. And could pull it off, as she had many times before. Conniving bitch.

  Biting her lower lip to keep from crying, Sophie breathed slowly in and out. Refusing to shed a single damn tear on behalf of that witch again. How could that woman be related to Sophie’s mother? They were from different stock.

  Sophie doubted her mother had a clue what she had turned into, or she might have written for foster care, rather than letting her go into the care of her only living relative.

  Frozen in place, her hand still clutched around the doorknob, she blinked away the threatening tears. Once the car was out of sight, Asher turned towards her. Seeing her about to lose it, he closed the few steps between them in a heartbeat.

  His arms wrapping around her, he held her close against him. Melting into Asher, she let him hold her up so she didn’t crumble.

  ***

  Still in her swimsuit, towel slipping down, Sophie soaked two perfect breast prints into his shirt. He didn’t care. What a damn witch. Her aunt was a real piece of work.

  “Why can’t she just leave me alone? I tried not sending money for a while, but that just made it worse. I had to take time off of school to clean up her mess.” Sophie buried her face into his shoulder, her hair tangling in his short beard as he kissed the top of her head.

  “I’m no psychologist, but there is something seriously wrong with that woman.” His voice was gruff, struggling to restrain the emotions that were boiling to the surface.

  Fury at Yvette. Fear that Sophie was going to have to live with this for the rest of her life. Regretful that Sophie had suffered this woman for so long.

  He could feel Sophie’s damp nod of agreement against his chest. “Should I just wire half my damn trust fund to her and tell her that’s it? I know it won’t stop her, but it should buy me a few years of her pestering, anyway.”