by Levine, Nina
Her eyes widen. “Oh God,” she says, reaching into the fridge for a bottle of wine. “Tell me everything.”
While she fills our glasses, I fill her in on the conversation Ashton and I had. By the time I’ve told her everything, we’re sitting cross-legged on her couch and I’ve already finished my first glass of wine.
“So he doesn’t get where you’re coming from?” she asks, refilling my glass.
“No.” I take a sip of wine. “Do you think I’m being unreasonable? Like, honestly, tell me how you see this, because I’m completely confused as to what to do here. I can’t figure out if Ashton and I are too different to make a relationship work or whether I just have to buckle in and do the hard work hoping that in the end, it’ll all be worth it.”
She drinks some wine before launching in with her thoughts. “Okay, so we can agree that Ashton is probably used to getting his own way and that his nature is to always take charge. He strikes me as a guy who fixes problems, so that’s probably what he thinks he’s doing with the Boston situation—helping you with something you struggled with. I’m not saying he’s right or wrong, just that I think this is how he has always lived his life. It was the same with the Shandwick deal. He wanted to help you. He just handled the whole thing badly.”
I nod. “Yes, I agree. The thing I’m wondering is whether he’ll ever be able to see what he’s doing and if so, whether he’ll come to understand that I want to try to take care of things myself first before I ask for help.”
Her face softens as she pauses, watching me thoughtfully. “I guess the thing you have to decide is whether you’re willing to bend a little more than him in the beginning of your relationship, because I honestly think it may take Ashton some time to get used to meeting you halfway with some of this stuff. And also, while I hesitate to mention this, because I am on your side here, I think some of your insecurities are coming into play here. I don’t think you can blame this entirely on Ashton.”
“Oh God, I know,” I agree as I fall back against the couch. This is another reason I’m all twisted up over this argument with him. I know I’ve got insecurities a mile long getting in the way. I just don’t know how to force them out of the way.
Sienna reaches for some cheese and sips her wine as she thinks about what we’ve discussed. “You’ve always been Little Miss Independent, and I don’t see that completely changing. And any change you are able to make will be hard for you because it’s your default way of handling things. The other thing is this Willow Street development. That kind of stuff is in Ashton’s blood, and I don’t know if he’ll be able to see it from your perspective. I mean, maybe he’ll come around a little, but it’s not fair to expect him to change that part of himself for you. Just like it’s not fair for him to expect you to change your views. All you can do is try to find a middle ground. This is something that’s going to take work for both of you. The thing you have to decide is, do you want to do that work for Ashton? Do you think he’s possibly the guy you want to build a future with?”
My heart speeds up as I imagine a future with Ashton. This isn’t a question I even have to think about; I do want to build a life with him.
Sienna cuts into my thoughts. “Tell me your first thoughts you just had after I said that.”
“I do want him in my life, but—”
She shakes her head. “No, no buts yet. Those are the things to consider in a minute. First, I want to know how much you want him in your life. Is he the man you’d be willing to fight for, compromise for, and lay your life down for, or is he someone you’d walk away from if the hurdles got too big? Once you know the answer to that question, the ‘buts’ become the hurdles you need to prepare for, and we’ll start figuring them out in advance and work out strategies for how you’ll approach them.”
A smile slowly spreads across my face. This is one of Sienna’s superpowers. She’s a list maker, and she always gets through her lists. She just makes things happen. And she never tackles a problem without knowing it from every angle. Me? I have a tendency to get caught up in the “buts.” And sometimes I let them stop me from chasing my dreams.
“I want to fight for Ashton. I want him to be the man I learn how to compromise for, and the man I go to the ends of the earth for,” I say softly while internally pushing down all the “buts” my heart is trying to throw out, not to mention my greatest fear that even if I give my heart and soul to Ashton, I may still lose him.
I know it’s irrational to always fear the loss of people in my life, and over the years I’ve tried to get past this fear, but it lives deep inside me. It’s the reason why I keep most people at arm’s length, only allowing a few close. It’s also the reason why I’ve never given myself fully to a man.
“Okay,” she says with a smile, “Let’s get to work.”
I don’t know if Ashton and I can come to a middle ground. I don’t know if I’m truly capable of letting my independent streak ease enough for a man like Ashton to assert his dominant side, but I know I love him enough to try. That he’s given me this week tells me he loves me enough to try, too, because I don’t think it’s Ashton style to compromise like this. And that is everything to me.
53
Ashton
“If you ever grow tired of Lorelei Winters, Donna would be a good distraction,” Aaron Steele says on Friday night when he finds me at the party he forced me to attend. It’s the kind of event I’d usually avoid due to the lack of purpose to it, but Steele insisted he wanted to discuss business with me tonight.
Turning to him, I do my best to remember I need his involvement in the New Zealand deal. If I didn’t absolutely need him for that to go ahead, I’d walk away without a backwards glance because I’m pissed off that he continues to belittle Lorelei. Instead, I keep a tight hold on my thoughts as I respond, “I don’t know who you’re referring to. Either way, though, I’m not interested.”
He nods towards a tall blonde woman standing alone staring out the window that overlooks Sydney Harbour. “Donna Stark. She’s always discreet. Lorelei would never know.”
I clench my jaw as uncharacteristic emotions work their way through me. I’ve never cared about how the people I work with choose to run their lives or relationships. They could have fucked five women in one night before going home to their wife, and I wouldn’t have blinked. Tonight, I’m feeling a whole lot different. Tonight, I want to punch Steele for being a philanderer and for even assuming I’d consider cheating on Lorelei.
Needing to get out of here before I blow this deal with him, I throw the remainder of my whisky down my throat and then demand, “What did you want to discuss with me?”
His eyes remain on Donna as he leisurely takes a drink. “You need to sell those Willow Street properties you’ve been purchasing. To your father.”
Like hell I need to do that. However, I know how this world works, and there’s more to this than Steele just telling me to sell. “Why?”
Shifting his gaze to me, he drops the missing puzzle piece. “The New Zealand deal won’t go ahead if you don’t.”
My eyes bore into his while anger builds deep inside me. “You’ll back out of it if I don’t give those properties to my father? What the fuck has he got on you?”
“Sell, not give, Ashton. And he has nothing on me. This is a simple business transaction. He has something I want, and in return, he wants those properties.”
“It’ll be a cold day in hell before I sell anything to my father. Find another way to get what you want from him.”
His eyes flash with annoyance. “This is the only way, and if you want me to invest in your resort, you’ll make it happen.”
Donna Stark joins us, interrupting our conversation. Her eyes hungrily roam my body before she meets my gaze. Stepping a little too close to me, she purrs, “Ashton Scott. It’s taken us far too long to meet.”
My tone is icy as I let her know how I feel about that. “And it’ll be a long time before we meet again.” Wanting to put some space between Ste
ele and me, I face him again and say, “I’ll be in touch.” I have no intention of meeting his demand, but I need time to process it and come up with an alternative plan.
Ignoring Donna’s shocked expression, I turn to leave.
“Make it soon, Ashton,” Steele calls out. “Gregory wants this sale to go ahead in the next week.”
Everything he’s said tonight has infuriated me, but what angers me the most is that my father has managed to direct Steele’s actions and put my deal at risk. There’s a reason I distanced myself from him, and the fact he would put business before his son in this way is central to that.
I stalk towards the door to leave the party, but Cassia ambushes me on the way out. “Ashton, wait,” she calls as she hurries across the room.
I keep moving, trying to exit before she reaches me, but she closes the distance between us fast. Curling her hand around my wrist, she says, “We need to talk.”
A scowl fills my face. “We don’t. What I need is for you to let me go so I can get the hell out of here.”
My words or my tone or maybe both hurt her, and while she tries to cover that hurt, I see it in her eyes and regret being so harsh with her. But I don’t make an effort to take any of it back; I’m too angry with my father to think about much more than him.
Instead of letting me go, she tightens her grip. “What’s wrong? Why are you so moody tonight?”
I pull out of her hold. “Can we not do this right now, Cassia? I have stuff I need to deal with.”
Again, instead of respecting my wishes, she does the opposite and moves closer to me, her body brushing against mine. Running her hand down my arm, she says, “You look stressed and angry about something. Why don’t you talk it through with me? I’ll get us a drink and find a quiet spot so we can talk. We still haven’t talked about that kiss, and I also want to discuss some things about your mum with you. She’s not doing so well, and I think she’s hiding that from you.”
The kiss is the last thing on my mind, but her mention of my mother catches my attention because I’ve suspected she’s hiding stuff from me. After discovering my father is having another affair, she seems to have chosen her usual way of dealing with their problems and has thrown herself into socialising. She’s presenting a happy face to the world, and if I didn’t know otherwise, I would think she and Dad were happy together.
“We have nothing to talk about regarding that kiss.” I silence her protest with a look that lets her know I’m not changing my mind on this. “I’m interested to hear more about my mother, but I don’t want to do it here. I’ll drive you home and you can tell me what you know on the way.”
She smiles, and I know she assumes my offer to drive her home is more than just a way for us to talk. Cassia has always assumed far too much when it comes to me, and she’s going to be very disappointed when I drop her off without walking her inside. “That sounds perfect,” she murmurs.
I don’t bother to correct her assumptions and place my hand on her back to guide her outside. As we’re leaving, she reaches her hand up to my neck and slows my movement so she can press a kiss to my lips. It happens so suddenly I don’t have time to stop her. When she pulls away and gives me a triumphant smile, I have no idea what it means.
My anger flares and I remove my hand from her back. “Change of plans,” I bark. “I’ll talk to my mother myself. I don’t want to see you again, Cassia. Whatever this is that you think is happening between us, it’s not. I’ve tried to tell you that nicely, but now I’m telling you bluntly—we were done a long time ago and we won’t ever be together again.”
Her eyes widen in surprise. “You don’t know what you’re saying, Ashton. You’re all messed up about something and not thinking straight.”
“When have you ever known me not to know what I’m saying?” My tone is arctic. She’s pushed me too far this time. The last thing I need is for someone at this party to have witnessed that kiss and to get the wrong idea about it.
She stares at me like I’ve slapped her. “Why are you fighting this? And why are you being so awful to me? I’m just trying to—”
I cut her off, unwilling to listen to another minute of her delusion. “The only thing I’m fighting is your inability to grasp reality. Listen to what I’m saying. This is over.” With that, I finally leave this godforsaken party I should never have come to in the first place.
54
Ashton
The sound of a ringing phone pulls me from a deep sleep at 4:00 a.m. Saturday morning. My breathing slows when I see it’s Josephine calling.
“Josephine,” I murmur groggily, trying to drag myself fully awake so I can be completely present for this call. “Is Jack okay?”
“I hate to be the one to break the news to you, Ashton, but no, he’s not okay. He had a public meltdown over something his manager said today, and went on a bender that ended with him trashing a restaurant. His assistant called me, and long story short, he’s been hospitalised.” She pauses for a moment, giving my mind time to catch up with everything she’s said. “He’s a mess, and I really think he’s going to need you.”
Leaving the bed, I begin mentally planning the things I’ll need to do in order to get on a plane to LA. “You’ve seen him?”
“Briefly. But he’s been spiralling since he got back and started doing everything his manager told him to do, so I’ve seen enough to know he’s not in a good place.”
She doesn’t need to tell me that; I already know. This happened faster than I thought it would, and as much as I don’t like seeing Jack in this place, at least he can now start getting the help he needs.
“Thanks for the call. I’ll be on a plane today.”
“You can stay with me if you want,” she says, her tone sliding into sexy territory. It’s a familiar place for us and one we easily go to knowing there are no expectations for anything more than a night or a few days together, but things have changed for me.
“I’m seeing someone.” Josephine knows the significance of that to me. While she’s never been strictly faithful to her partners, she understands and respects my stance on cheating. It’s not something I ever do or ever condone in my relationships.
I can hear her smile down the line when she says, “I wasn’t sure if I’d ever hear you say those three words to me again. Tell me about her, and please tell me she’s nothing like Cassia.”
“She’s nothing like Cassia. Now, if I’m going to make it to LA today, I need to get off the phone and book a flight.”
“Yes, you do, but don’t think this conversation is finished. I’ll be calling Jessica and scheduling in dinner with you while you’re over here, and you’ll tell me all about this woman then.”
I have no doubt that’s exactly what will happen because Josephine has a tendency to always get what she wants. Hell knows how I manage to fall into line with her wishes, but I usually do.
We end the call after I find out the details of Jack’s doctor and the hospital he’s in, and I immediately phone Jessica.
“Please tell me this call at this time is for a good reason and not just because you’ve decided to hit me with Asshole Saturday too,” she says.
I unzip my suitcase and start packing clothes into it. “Jack’s in hospital.”
She’s silent for a moment, and when she speaks again, the sleepiness and grumpiness is gone from her voice. “I’ll book your flights, hotels, and cars. What else do you need me to do?”
At a point where I’m trying to push down foreign feelings of inadequacy and powerlessness where Jack’s health is concerned, Jessica’s certainty of my actions is comforting. I don’t understand that emotion or where it’s coming from, but I’m reassured by it. I may not feel any control over Jack’s wellbeing, and I may feel a sense of guilt over letting him fall, but I will move heaven and earth to be by his side and do everything I can to help him get back up.
I give her the information about Jack’s doctor and the hospital before saying, “Research them. I want to know everything t
here is to know about how they work.”
“Do you want me to call Jack’s mother or has Josephine already done that?”
I don’t have to have asked Josephine whether she’s already called Bronwyn Kingsley to let her know about her son. I know she hasn’t because there’s no love lost between those two. Bronwyn refuses to forget the low point in Jack’s life after Josephine broke his heart.
“No, I’ll call her on my way to the airport.” I don’t want to leave that conversation to anyone else.
“Right, you pack, and I’ll send you the flight details. And Ashton?”
“Mmm?” My mind has drifted from this conversation to Lorelei. I need to call her and let her know what’s happening.
“This isn’t your fault.”
Her words draw me back, and again I’m reminded of how well Jessica knows me. And again, there’s a strange comfort in that. It reminds me of how I feel when Alessandra looks out for me.
“It feels a hell of a lot like my fault,” I bark. As my emotions wash over me, I latch onto my anger and resentment that my best friend has to deal with this disorder. It’s easier to sit with anger than it is to sit with worry. I don’t make it a point to allow fear into my life, but it has always circled me when Jack refuses to take care of himself. Each time he descends into his hell, I worry a little more that this time may be the last. I can’t imagine a life without Jack in it, and that will always fuel me to keep pushing to find a way to help him through. Grasping onto my anger drives me forward. It lashes out at my fear and forces it to be quiet. Unfortunately, it means those around me suffer when I take it out on them.
Jessica sighs, knowing this place well. “You can snap and snarl all you like, but it won’t change the fact that Jack is in the hospital right now because he chose not to look after himself.”
I don’t want to continue discussing this. What I want is to call Lorelei and hear her voice. “Send me the flight info once you have it. And try not to seat me right near the toilets like you did on the last flight.”