by Madrid, Liz
That was when Riley decided that, good or bad, it was time to start accepting the past and her lack of ability to change it. Nothing she did now could undo Paige and Gareth’s betrayal. Nothing could rewind the hands of time so that all wrongs could be made right.
The present was all that mattered now. It was only in the present that she had the power to make things happen or not happen, to brood on things or not to think of them, to give others power over herself or take charge of her own destiny. As she lay listening to Ashe breathe softly in the darkness, his breath warming the skin of her neck and ear, acceptance settled upon her like a warm blanket.
As far as Riley could see, what she had now would only be hers for as long as she believed it to be so. Like Ashe.
For just like he said, he was hers.
28
Not Alone
As long as Riley shut up the OMG-the-sky-is-falling part of her, life was grand. For the next two weeks, her and Ashe’s schedules were pretty straightforward. She went to work four days a week while Ashe, if he wasn’t required to fly to LA for meetings, did them over the phone. There were meetings with Ben and Lance over Conley Brennan’s songs whose rights they owned, and then there were his workout sessions at the gym five days a week. Even though he wasn’t scheduled to start shooting his next movie till after the holidays, Ashe still had to keep in shape, no matter how great the temptation to eat whatever he wanted. Just the day before, he’d spent most of the day modeling suits for a men’s magazine cover and editorial and Riley couldn’t help but notice, after seeing the pictures he’d taken of some of the proofs, that Ashe had a hell of a resting bitch face.
“A what?” He had asked, surprised.
“A resting bitch face,” Riley repeated, laughing. “It’s usually the look someone has when they’re just doing random stuff, listening to music, riding the subway, stuff like that, yet their face looks like they’re about to murder someone.”
Ashe looked at her incredulously. “Excuse me, but I do not have a resting bitch face.”
“Oh, yes you do!” She had laughed then, earning her a tickling session that almost made her pee her pants till she begged him to stop and tell him that no, he did not have a resting bitch face after all.
“Do you ever get tired of being sculpted and groomed by others?” She asked him one Saturday afternoon as they sat on a bench at Washington Square Park, listening to someone playing Bach’s “English Piece in A Minor” on his baby grand piano on wheels. With Ashe wearing some type of hat or beanie and dark glasses, it had become one of their favorite things to do during those two weekends after their Atlantic City trip, simply sitting together and people watching. Sometimes people recognized him, but mostly they left Ashe alone, though Riley had gotten used to the sideways glances and the many creative ways they tried to take discreet pictures of Ashe.
“It’s just part of the job. You might say that I’ve gotten used to it since I started modeling so many years ago,” he said.
“And you’re vain,” Riley teased as Ashe nudged her in the ribs playfully.
“There’s that, too,” Ashe smiled sheepishly. “But why do you ask, Riley? Does it bother you to have someone know my body more than you sometimes?”
“Paige once asked me how I’d feel seeing you kiss someone else, or have sex with someone else — on camera, that is,” Riley added. “And she had a point. I don’t know how I’d feel if I saw you kiss someone else. It would feel weird and I wouldn’t know what to think.”
“So it does bother you,” he said.
“It’s just weird. I mean, what if Sentience gets a sequel and you and Isobel – well, do stuff together, even if it’s front of the camera-”
“It is just in front of the cameras, Riley, and there’s nothing sexy when it comes to filming a sex scene, not when you’ve got hot lights and twenty people watching the whole thing and making sure that every angle is perfect, the lighting complimentary to the parties concerned,” Ashe said. “You need to separate our life together from what I have to do for work.”
“But I trust you, so it shouldn’t even be a problem.” Riley suddenly felt foolish as Ashe took a deep intake of breath and drew her closer to him. She was jealous, plain and simple. “Anyway, I was just wondering if you ever get tired of it — being groomed constantly for this pictorial or that movie premiere, and having to worry about your weight, your figure, your diet.”
“Sometimes I do mind, especially with the holidays approaching and I can’t wait to eat all the meat pies I can get my hands on,” he said, grinning. “Which reminds me, what are you doing for Thanksgiving? You haven’t mentioned anything about it.”
Riley never mentioned Thanksgiving because she didn’t want to, even though it was something that she knew would come eventually. Come to think of it, Thanksgiving was four days away. It was as if Ashe had waited as long as he could till finally he couldn’t wait any longer. After all, she hadn’t exactly been the best company during the last two weeks, no matter how hard she tried to hide the pain with each phone call or text message that came from Paige and the triplets. There was a reason why she wasn’t the actor making all that money, whose face graced the cover of a major men’s fashion magazine for November, and whose calendar for the coming year was already filled up. Pain was a tough emotion to hide, not when it felt like a hole had been dug into her chest, and it only felt like it were getting bigger and deeper with every reminder that the holidays were fast approaching.
As much as Riley missed her nephews, she couldn’t shake her sister’s betrayal that hurt like nothing else she’d ever felt before. And so she avoided their calls, never answering a single one and hoping that maybe they’d get the message that she wasn’t interested in talking to them. At least not yet.
And they did, eventually. Paige stopped calling ten days later. She stopped sending texts begging Riley to at least see the triplets, even if it was just at the park, and that the nanny, Priscilla, would be with them. But Riley steeled herself from even looking at her phone, choosing to delete the texts before she could even thoroughly read them. She was being a coward, it was true, at least when it came to her nephews, but she also wanted nothing to interfere with the time she was enjoying with Ashe. For the first time in her life, she figured she had every right to be selfish.
If Ashe noticed how she tensed up whenever the messages and calls from Paige and her nephews arrived, he didn’t say anything. Not that he could say anything even if he wanted to, for Riley would simply walk away or put on her earphones, pretending to listen to music. She knew she had to open to Ashe eventually but she was always afraid of seeming weak around him. So she kept her mouth shut.
But with Ashe’s question about Thanksgiving, Riley realized that she’d never missed spending a single Thanksgiving with her sister and her nephews. It had always been with Paige, who always came home even when she was working as a model in Europe that one year and still flew in just for the day to spend Thanksgiving and the holidays with Riley and her father.
“I don’t know,” Riley said, looking straight ahead. A mother and her child had come up to the pianist to slip some money into his jar. “I’ll think of something.”
“Don’t you miss them?” He asked.
“Paige? No!” Riley said though she knew it was a lie. She hadn’t stopped thinking about Paige since it happened, hating that as much as she despised Paige for what she and Gareth had done, she missed them all, especially the triplets. They shouldn’t suffer for what their mother had done, but Riley no longer knew what to do. The messages they left on her voice mail a few days earlier had brought her to tears. Thomas was convinced he’d done something wrong to piss her off and wanted to do to make her change her mind.
“I meant the boys. Don’t you miss them?” He asked, watching her closely. “I don’t think they understand at this point why you’re punishing them, and they shouldn’t be punished for something that they didn’t do. Two weeks isn’t long enough for them to notice that something i
s wrong, but any longer than that and children usually will start to notice that something is not right.”
“Of course I’m not punishing them,” Riley said, sighing. “In fact, I miss them so much, but I’ve waited so long to tell Paige that I would love to see them — just not with her around — that I don’t know how to go about asking someone else that I’d like to see them.”
“Just call them. I’m sure the boys will be very happy to see you, however you find a way around it,” Ashe said, squeezing her hand. “Still, I’d love for you to join me and the lads for Thanksgiving. Ben and Lindsey host it each year at their place upstate, but this year, it’s at my place. Everyone usually brings something homemade.”
“What do you usually make?” Riley asked, grateful for the change in topic.
“Shepherd’s pies, of course,” Ashe replied, grinning sheepishly. “The way my mum makes them. But you have to make something, too.”
“Espresso?”
“No!” Ashe exclaimed, laughing. “That would be cheating.”
Riley was about to tell him that the only thing she could think of was green bean casserole, the same dish she usually made for Thanksgiving at Paige and Clint’s house, and which also happened to be Gareth’s favorite, when her phone rang. It was Clint. She hesitated at first but when she noticed Ashe watching her, one eyebrow raised, she clicked Answer.
“Riley, it’s been awhile since we’ve seen you,” Clint said, his voice giving her no hint that he was aware of any problems between her and Paige. But of course he would know, Riley thought. Otherwise Clint wouldn’t be so formal. “I was hoping we could talk, if you have some time today.”
“Sure, Clint. Where?” Riley hoped it wouldn’t have to be at their house.
“Well, I know you and Paige aren’t talking, but they’re at a friends’ birthday party all afternoon,” he said. “How about in an hour? I could have Bob pick you up, wherever you are.”
Riley glanced up at Ashe, who had now turned his attention back to the piano player though she knew he could hear her. She wondered if Clint knew the reason why she and Paige weren’t talking. Would she be the one to break it to him that his wife had cheated on him? It was something she and Ashe had discussed a few nights ago, and something he firmly believed was between Clint and Paige.
The admission shouldn’t come from you, was what Ashe told her. It should come from Paige.
But what about the fact that she cheated on Clint with Gareth, of all people? My Gareth?
Ashe frowned then. Is that what this is really all about? Your Gareth? I’m not discounting the pain that you are feeling, but it’s been three years since you and Gareth were together, and you’ve told me again and again that you no longer love him. Unless you still do.
She had stammered then. Of course she didn’t love Gareth anymore. How could she? She loved the man sitting in front of her, the same man who could make her giddy at the sound of his deep voice when he called her name, the man who knew just how to make her feel so beautiful, like she was the only woman in the world for him.
I don’t love him anymore, she had assured Ashe then. I just meant that of all the people she could have cheated with, why Gareth, knowing who he’d been all this time. It’s just that I feel like such a fool, them cheating on me like that then, and me never knowing anything about it till it happened again. I’m not perfect, Ashe, I know that. But I feel like I’ve been manipulated all this time with their secrets.
Then just make sure you know why you’re really hurt, Riley, Ashe told her, his voice softening. I suspect it’s got more to do with Paige than it does with Gareth, but that’s only me trying to be as positive as I can positively can without being taken for a fool. After all, I’m only human. And if there’s anyone more insecure than anyone out there, it’s an actor like me who thinks that his girlfriend still pines for her ex, who also happens to be a fellow actor.
Ashe had chuckled when he said it, but Riley knew that he was telling her the truth. His good looks, he always told her, weren’t going to last forever. He’d taken her with him for his facials and his massages, as she got hers at the same time just so she could see what he had to go through. He even got waxed, of all things, which surprised her. But at the same time, she figured that at least he wasn’t the only one having to go through all that pain to be hairless where the powers-that-be demanded him to be. Women already went through enough as it was.
“An hour then,” she told Clint, hanging up as Ashe pulled her closer to him and for the next few minutes, they simply listened to the music.
“At least he knows Paige and I aren’t talking,” Riley said. “He wants to see me in an hour.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” Ashe asked. “For moral support maybe — not that you need it.”
Riley thought for a moment. “I don’t know. But it would be nice if you were there, at least so I don’t feel alone if there were another bombshell coming. I just feel so alone when I’m faced with things like this.”
“You’re not alone, Riley,” Ashe said, kissing her on the forehead. “Not anymore.”
29
Grand Master
In the end Riley decided to see Clint alone, for as much as she wanted Ashe with her, she didn’t really want to drag him deeper into her family drama than she already had. And it was just as well, for as soon as Ashe hailed a cab, his agent called. Something urgent had come up.
Twenty minutes later Clint opened the door to the brownstone, grinning broadly. He was wearing a gray knit cardigan over a button-down shirt and slacks, his usual house attire. Dark-rimmed glasses framed his blue eyes and two-day-old stubble graced his jaw.
“I’m so happy you could make it, Riley,” he said, beckoning her into the living room. He offered her a drink and a seat on the couch in front of his favorite armchair. Though he seemed his usual easy-going self, Riley remembered that this version of Clint was the total opposite of the Clint most people knew, especially the ones he did business with. She learned this after Allen had approached Clint for a loan when the cafe wasn’t doing too well and he had to pay for cancer treatments for his now-deceased wife. Clint had been able to convince Allen that, despite Riley’s brief lapse of judgment, which had led to her overdose, she was still trustworthy — so trustworthy that Clint was willing to put his own money behind her. He had done so, which was why Riley now owned fifty per cent of the Library Cafe. This partnership allowed her to make changes in the decor, the choice of coffee blends and the hiring and firing of employees. It had also been Clint who’d taught Riley the basics of accounting, how to balance the books both by hand and using business accounting software.
Clint Caldwell III was the only son of a Manhattan socialite whose fortune had almost been squandered by her husband, Clint’s father. It wasn’t till the man died from liver disease when Clint was twenty-four that he managed slowly to bring the family fortunes back up to where they had been, and beyond. He did it by taking huge risks in the stock market, and buying real estate when the prices were down, only to sell when they went up. He was ruthless in business affairs when he needed to be, though she had always known him to put family first.
Riley found herself wondering what Clint would do if he learned of Paige’s affair. Would he kick Paige out and leave her without a penny to her name? The thought made her stomach lurch, and she forced herself to think of other things. She was angry with Paige, but not that angry. No, Clint wouldn’t do that. He adored his wife.
He’d been married twice before. His first wife had died of breast cancer three years into their marriage and the second lasted five years before society papers announced their split. She was now living in Texas, and married to a congressman with whom she had two children.
Clint had met Paige three years after his divorce from his second wife. He saw her at a runway show his company was sponsoring and met her backstage. He wined and dined her for months. When Paige insisted that they take Riley with them on some of their ‘dates’ Clint was undeter
red, unlike most other men who would have simply scoffed at her suggestion. Riley would never forget the helicopter rides over New York, the ringing of the opening bell on Wall Street and the day she got to wear a big hat and fancy dress to the Kentucky Derby. There was even a last minute trip to St. Bart’s once, where he owned a vacation home and a surprise trip to Paris.
Clint asked Paige to marry him a year and a half later, and it was a huge wedding, the biggest wedding Riley had ever been to. Held in the Hamptons, the celebration lasted four days.
As Riley leaned forward on the couch, too nervous to relax, Clint poured himself a shot of bourbon. He handed her a glass of white wine before settling into the armchair in front of her.
Small talk came first. How are things? (Fine.) How is Ashe? (Great.) How are you both doing? (Going strong.) He seems like a good man. (He is.) Decent. (Yup.)
“I thought we were supposed to be talking about the boys,” Riley said finally.
“And so we shall,” Clint said. “You’ve been in their lives since the day they were born. It can be difficult for children to understand why someone suddenly disappears from their lives when they literally just live across town.”
“I miss them, too.”
Clint nodded. “Well, if you intend to see them, that would be wonderful. We can arrange times when they can either see you at the park, or at your place, or even here when Paige is out. But if not, then it’s best to let them know now. They miss you terribly.”
“Thomas thinks he did something wrong. That’s what he said in his phone message,” Riley said, taking a sip of wine before setting the glass down on the coffee table in front of her. Clint had always had a way of disarming her with his gentle smile, and she could feel herself relax.
“I assured Thomas that he hadn’t done anything wrong,” Clint said. “I told him that sometimes sisters don’t get along, just like sometimes he and his brothers don’t get along.”