Afraid to argue because she didn’t want to see his mean face again, she did as he requested. The covers felt warm and lulled her body into a cocoon that she didn’t resist. She laid her head deeper into her pillow and was almost asleep when she felt the mattress sink. She fluttered her eyes, seeing her dad through a sleep haze.
“Were you scared,” he asked, dragging the cover tighter around her shoulders.
She nodded, yawning. “Why were you and Mommy fighting?”
There was a second’s hesitation. “We can’t see eye-to-eye.”
“She has blue eyes, like mine. You can’t see them?”
He darted a hand through his hair. “No, I meant we can’t get along. It’s only getting worse. I’m getting worse. I’m sorry, Ash.”
She blinked. “Don’t be sad, Daddy. Buy her flowers. She likes yellow roses.”
“I’m afraid that won’t work, sweetie.” His eyes glistened in the light of the lamp. “I need to go away for a while.” He lowered his gaze to his lap. To her, he’d always been as brave as the hero, Superman, but now he looked tired.
“My Christmas play is next week. You can’t miss that. I’m the snow angel, remember?”
His shoulders dipped even further. “I won’t,” he murmured. “But I won’t be living here. Your mom and I, well, we need our space.”
“I don’t want you to go. Please don’t go. You and Mommy can see each other’s eyes and we will be a family. Just like you said, remember? You said you’d work harder. You’d get another job.”
“It’s not working. One day I hope you’ll understand.” He gently wiped her bangs from her forehead and kissed her tenderly. “I need you to promise me something, little bug.”
She nodded her head against the pillow.
“You need to be a big girl. You need to take care of your little sister. Make sure you let nothing happen to her. Okay?”
“I always take care of her. You stay and take care of her. I don’t like her!” she huffed.
“I know that’s not true. You’re always a good big sister. Now promise me.”
“I guess so.” She sniffed loudly. “You can’t go though. It’s snowing. We can build a snowman together. Mommy can make her special cocoa and everything will be okay, just like she says.”
One corner of his mouth lifted, but his eyes remained gloomy. “Here, I want to show you something.” He reached to her nightstand, ripping a sheet of construction paper from the book.
“What is it, daddy?” She sat up straight so she could see what he was doing. He placed the paper on his lap and traced his hand with a red crayon. “Now, put your hand here.”
She did as he asked, placing her hand in the outline of his much larger one and he traced it, as he’d done his own. “I might not be here, but always remember that you are in my heart.” He drew a large heart shape. “And in my stars.” He drew three stars at the top of the paper. “One day, you’ll find a man that’ll treat you how you deserve to be treated—you’ll be his heart and stars. You hold out for a prince, little bug. You don’t understand now, I know, but you’ll see. There’s a man out there who will cherish you. One who will offer you protection, love, and his world. Now close your eyes.” He patted her shoulder.
She didn’t want to fall asleep. She held her eyes open, swearing she would never fall asleep again, but she could no longer hold off the cloud that drifted over her. She was asleep when her father stood, gave each of his girls one last kiss, and left their room for the final time.
“Hey, you awake?”
Ash James jerked and hit her head on the window. The dry rotted vinyl seat creaked in resistance. She turned, rubbing her head, and found Dewey, a diner customer, staring at her, his dark gaze narrowed in concern. She scooted out of the booth where she’d been taking a short break after a twelve-hour shift. “I must have zoned out. I’m sorry.” Straightening her faded yellow waitress uniform, she hurried toward the counter.
“No apology needed. Jasper should have his ass in a sling working you girls as much as he does.” Dewey tugged at his scraggly beard and shifted in his dirty work boots.
“It’s not his fault, Dew. You know I’m working for my tips and a girl’s gotta pay her bills. I’m cashing out the register. Want another cup of coffee for the road?”
“No, dear. I’ll already be up half the night.” He slid a hand into his pocket and retrieved several bills which he laid on the counter.
Ash picked up the money. “Let me get your change.”
He shrugged a thin shoulder. “Keep it, girl. You deserve it.” He winked, smiled, and limped toward the door. Dewey was a veteran who came into the diner every night, sharing his stories that had many patrons entertained and, at times, shedding a tear. Although he said he was here a lot because of the strong coffee and fresh rolls, Ash suspected he didn’t like being at home alone.
“Thank you.” She slipped the twenty into her apron pocket. Each dollar counted—each penny went for something.
Once the glass door shut behind him, Ash flipped the sign to ‘closed’. She looked out onto the empty street and saw that the rain was now only a light sprinkle. She hated walking home in the rain. Movement on the corner of the street caught her attention. Standing in his usual spot was the homeless man who ventured here to sleep on the bench.
“Ash, why don’t you get out of here. You’ve worked a lot of hours. I’ll close,” Betty said from where she was sweeping up a toddler’s uneaten dinner from the floor.
“Are you sure?” Ash’s feet were hurting and she couldn’t wait to leave, but she didn’t want to leave her friend to take care of the mess alone.
“I’m sure. Run along. All I have at home are three cats and a snoring husband. You have studying to do, don’t you?”
“I finished exams last week. Yet, I won’t argue with you. It seemed like the customers were extra hard to please today.” She emptied her pockets, counted a hundred dollars in tips, then slipped the money into her shoe, just in case someone mugged her and took her purse. Pulling off her apron, she hung it on a hook. Grabbing the last muffin from the glass case, she dropped it into a white bag and poured a disposable cup full with the last of the coffee. “Take care, Betty. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She grabbed her umbrella from the bin, then stepped out into the night, looking both ways for traffic. As usual, the street was quiet. She jogged across to the other sidewalk, being sure not to spill the coffee as she avoided a large water puddle. The man had just gotten settled on the bench and was dragging a holey, dirty blanket across his shoulders. “You didn’t think I forgot, did you?” she said as she approached him.
“You’d do right by forgetting me. Most people have,” he said.
“Not everyone.” She held up the bag and shook it gently. “I have your favorite. I saved one back.”
“A chocolate caramel muffin. You know that’s a fine treat for this old man.” He reached out with a shaky hand and took the bag.
“You especially need this on a rainy night.” She handed over the coffee. He held the cup between his palms, inhaling the steam like it was heaven. “The coffee’s not the best. Never is, but it’ll warm you up.” She started to turn toward the street, but a thought came to her. “You might need this too.” She stuck out the umbrella, but he shook his head.
“Can’t take your umbrella, ma’am. You have to walk home. Wouldn’t be right you getting stuck in a downpour.”
“It’s not far.” She held it out. With reluctance, he finally accepted the offering and lifted it over his head. She pulled back, but he tugged at the sleeve of her uniform.
“You’re my guardian angel,” he said in a quiet, shaking voice.
“Thank you, but I’m not an angel. I’m just wanting to do what’s right.”
“If I was the wish maker, I’d make all of your dreams come true.”
“And if that were possible, that you could make any dream come true, I’d ask that you make me Cinderella and bring me Prince Charming.”
“You believe in fairytales?”
She laughed. “I once did.”
He patted her wrist and she stepped back. He was already leaning into the slats of the wood and pulling the zebra striped umbrella over the upper half of his body. Her throat constricted painfully as it did every time she visited with him. She’d tried many times to help him, get him set up in a homeless shelter, take him to a food kitchen for a hot meal, but he always refused. She felt she did so little by giving him a muffin, sometimes a cheeseburger or chicken nuggets, and a coffee after her shift.
She heard a rolling of thunder and quickly started down the street, glad she didn’t have far to walk.
An hour later, she was changed into fuzzy pajamas and standing on the balcony of her apartment, the only nice thing about the place. She breathed in the scent of rain, loving the clean smell. The showers had finally passed and the air was cool. In the distance, she watched the twinkling lights up and down the busy street, hearing the music flowing from the bar downstairs. Standing here, in her private world, she could get lost in the music and the fast-pace of the city. Across the street the door opened to the Chinese restaurant that stayed open late. A couple stepped out and headed down the sidewalk, hand in hand, laughing. Ash felt a teeny twinge in her chest.
Most evenings when she arrived home, she would hear the hustle and bustle of the wait staff, the cook continuing the orgy of a busy evening, yelling in Chinese at his staff. She relished the fact that she was done for the evening, and could now relax.
She smiled as she savored the fact that she would soon be starting her last quarter of graduate school. Pride built in her chest and she could barely contain the emotion. Growing up with an absent father and a mom who worked two jobs just to make ends meet, Ash had learned early on that she wanted things to be different for her and her younger sister, Abby. So, while all her friends were doing teenager things, including her sister who never had the same motivation as Ash, she drowned herself in her work, managing to get A’s all through high school. When she’d applied to college and received a full scholarship, Ash had jumped at the opportunity, believing her hard work was paying off. She’d gotten a job as a waitress, one of many since starting school, and lived on tips. Two years ago, she’d received her acceptance letter to graduate school and she’d been ecstatic, but it also meant that she would have to work more hours to survive.
Abby had gone to college too. But after the first year, she’d decided she wanted to become an actress. Ash had done everything to convince her gullible sister to stay in school and take on acting positions as they came, but stubborn and bull-headed Abby wanted to jump head first into an acting career. A year later, when Abby had become the starving artist with only two small jobs under her belt, she’d made another impulsive decision and started working at an upscale escort service to pay the bills.
Ash swirled the contents of her half-full wine glass and sighed. All through their childhood, into adulthood, she’d done her best to protect and help her little sister, but Ash had failed miserably.
Especially when Phillipe Diago came into the picture.
The handsome, smooth talking Italian could easily turn on the charm, but Ash had suspected his underlying intentions from the second Abby had brought him into the diner. In the first five minutes, Ash could see straight through the man’s facade and realized he was nothing but trouble. Yet, since it was never possible to convince her sister of right and wrong, when it came to the dashing Phillipe, it had only gotten harder. Abby was caught in a web of lust and she was thinking outside of logic.
Two weeks into their relationship, Abby was living with Phillipe. Not long after that, Abby’s daily calls to Ash had dwindled to weekly. Then monthly. Eventually, two months had passed since she’d seen or heard from Abby. Ash suspected something serious was going on, but the more she tried to help her sister, the more she was pushed away—and Ash didn’t doubt for a moment that Phillipe played a role in who Abby saw or socialized with.
All Ash could do was stay focused on success. She’d worked hard to overcome the obstacles placed on her as a child, and soon she would be reaping the benefits. Maybe then she could persuade her sister to move somewhere safer, somewhere away from Phillipe.
Ash understood how easy it was to get sidetracked by a whimsical delight.
Although, Declan had been more than a ‘whimsical delight’.
She rolled her finger around the rim of her glass, wishing she could forget him once and for all, but knowing that would never be possible. He’d swept into her life, like a blazing fire burning all her doubts and disappointment away in regard to relationships. She remembered clearly the first second she’d seen him, how weak in the knees she’d become, and how she thought she was going to pass out when she had to take his order. Although mesmerized by his good looks, she refused to get caught up in a dead-end relationship. She’d known a lot of men like Declan Knight. Rich, on the road to success, and charming. All they wanted a woman like Ash for was a short term hook up that could only end in disaster when he tired of her.
But she soon realized that Declan was different. After their first date, she knew this to be true. Soon, she had fallen in love. When he’d asked her to marry him, she’d answered, “Yes!”
Life changed. She was thrust into a world she had no clue about. Although she’d been aware that the Knight family had money, she didn’t realize just how much until Declan took her home to meet the family. They were all nice and had welcomed her, but the socialites at the fancy parties they attended were not quite as friendly. And soon the differences, or her insecurities, or maybe both, started weighing heavily on Ash. Declan wanted a trophy wife, one that looked good on his arm at social functions, yet she thought they should be like a ‘normal’ twenty-something couple. Eating pizza for dinner five days out of seven and watching low-budget movies. At first, that’s what they did, and they were happy. They even moved into a cheap apartment that never had properly working plumbing, but soon, Declan’s responsibilities became a priority.
He’d talked her into moving into the family’s mansion. Things took a downward spiral almost immediately.
Looking back, she was no longer even sure what the argument had sparked from that ended their marriage. She just remembered how painful and hard it had been, leaving her husband, their relationship, when she’d believed he was her heart and stars.
She gave her head a quick shake, dragging herself back to her average life living in a small apartment above a bar. She needed to forget Declan Knight. He was in the past, and she had to stay focused on the future.
The first thing she planned to do when she had her diploma in hand was to turn in her resignation at the diner. Oh, it could be worse, she was sure, but she couldn’t wait until she could help others as a social worker.
The second thing she wanted to do was to move out of the apartment that was the size of a broom closet. When she had absolutely nothing else to do, she’d go to open houses, getting an idea of what she’d want later, and what she could afford. She hoped for a small house on a quiet street, and maybe own a dog and a cat.
Lifting her chin, the breeze tangled in her hair. The chocolate strands, entwined with rich shades of gold highlights that didn’t need the help of dye, danced in the wind. She had high cheekbones and a rounded jaw, like her father, at least from the pictures she’d seen. She was often referred to as Snow White since her skin never tanned. She had to slather tons of SPF cream on when she was outside so she wouldn’t burn. Her mother, now in her fifties, was covered in dark freckles and warned her daughters that they had one chance to keep their skin healthy. Abby was also pale, and they resembled each other closely. Ash’s eyes were so blue that they were almost violet and changed with her mood, another physical attribute handed down from her father. Abby had clear blue eyes with a brown freckle in each.
Her heart panged. Lots of time had passed since their father had walked away. The only thing she really remembered about him was how he’d tell he
r, “Your eyes remind me of irises. Just like my mother’s.” Unfortunately, he hadn’t stuck around long enough for her to have a relationship with him.
Very few people knew just how intelligent Ash was, and that was just how she wanted to keep it. In fact, both she and Abby were smart women, at least their SAT scores showed it. Their mother used to tell them, “Use your brains for something more than a mass to fill your skull.” Ash had listened, oh brother had she listened. She’d witnessed firsthand how her mother would come through the door after twelve hours of back breaking work, feet swollen and her fingers bleeding. As Ash tended to her mother, wrapping the small cuts on her hands in bandages, she’d sworn that one day she’d make her mother proud. Oh, Ash was certain Abby had learned a lesson too, and probably why she’d wanted to make it big as an actress so she’d make lots of money and she’d never have to go hungry or live on beans and rice again. That was also why when her dreams of acting went sour, Abby had done the only other thing she knew how to do to make easy money—she’d used her beauty.
Shouting drew her attention to the street. Two men stood toe-to-toe, chest to chest, bumping each other as if they were two bulls rooting for their territory. Wistfully, she left the balcony and went inside of her gloomy apartment, shutting the glass door and blocking out the noise. Inside of the galley kitchen, she poured more wine, then went into the living room where she switched on the TV and surfed the channels for something engaging to watch. She finally settled on a documentary about the deaths of hundreds of wild animals in Africa.
A commercial came on and her gaze was automatically drawn to the calendar nailed to the wall. She concentrated on the date circled in red. The first day of her last quarter. Excitement rolled through her at the concept. Six years of college, a number of hours volunteering at the local counseling clinic, and endless nights of studying the books while her friends partied—nothing had really changed since high school. Abby had once called her a loner, but Ash couldn’t begin to explain how much she wanted to reach her goals, above anything else. Soon she’d be free from a life of cramming for tests and exams, and the high expectations she’d placed upon herself to finally reach the accomplishments she’d wanted. Abby had always been sucked in by immediate rewards instead of seeing the larger picture. Ash had always been independent, something she’d struggled for over the years, even when she gave into to her whim and married Declan. On several occasions in the past ten years, she had taken time off from school to take care of her mother, but she’d always gotten back on the horse with her schooling. Many of her college friends had given in, both to marriage and to having kids. At twenty-nine, Ash had dreams too. She’d made a few mistakes along the way, but she’d grown from them and moved on, determined to escape the life of the past.
His Weekend Wife (The KNIGHT Brothers Book 2) Page 4