by S Doyle
Still, it made me think.
“Daddy, I think I need more diamonds. All I have are my earrings, and if I’m going to attend these events with you, that’s not enough.”
They were the first words I’d spoken to him on the entire drive. Not that he’d minded. He’d brought his laptop and had been working.
He lifted his head and seemed to consider the question. “You’re too young for some of those bulkier necklaces. However, a nice tennis bracelet would be acceptable. Since we’re staying the night at the penthouse, we can stop by Tiffany’s tomorrow if you would like.”
I smiled. “That would be amazing!”
Something to actually look forward to. As we inched closer to the entrance, Arthur pulled out his phone and sent a text.
“There will be media coverage,” he told me. “You need to smile.”
“Of course.”
“Evan will be meeting us. The press has a sense he’s ready to make his announcement about running soon.”
It felt like my heart tripped. I hadn’t seen or heard about Evan since his visit in Switzerland. With things how they were with Marc, it was easy to forget he existed.
But he did.
I pulled on my bottom lip and wondered if now was the time to finally ask Arthur what his intentions were, related to me and Evan. Honestly, I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to hear my worst fears confirmed.
“I don’t like him,” I said instead.
He turned to me, his face stern. “What a ridiculous thing to say. He’s been nothing but pleasant to you.”
“He gives me a creepy vibe,” I admitted.
It was the truth, and it made me wonder how far I could push whatever affection my father might have for me. Not that Evan had done anything personally creepy, just his presence made me feel uneasy. If he thought I didn’t like Evan, if he believed I was turned off by him in general, would that be enough to pull back from any expectations he had about a possible relationship?
“Evan is a remarkable businessman, a good friend, and someone I could only hope you aspire to marry someday. You’ll smile for the cameras for him, and tomorrow we’ll have that shopping trip I promised. Understood?”
I smiled brilliantly. “Yes, Daddy.”
Aspire to marry. I considered the phrase and thought at least it wasn’t, you will marry.
I wasn’t sure if that was good news or not.
Finally, we approached the entrance and George brought the car to a stop. “Goodnight, George. Thanks for driving.”
“My pleasure, Peanut.”
I smiled at the nickname I hadn’t heard in a long time.
“Don’t call her that again. She’s a woman, not a child anymore,” Arthur snapped.
“Yes, sir,” George said, without any attitude.
I shook my head at my father, but said nothing. There was no point. Any pretense of whimsy or humor he’d had was long gone. I should consider myself lucky he wasn’t drunk already. Tonight, appearances would matter among New York’s wealthy and influential crowd.
A valet stepped up and held out a hand to me. Evan was waiting behind him. Cameras were flashing around him. It didn’t surprise me. He’d just been featured as New York’s most eligible bachelor in a major magazine.
Which made me wonder why he was showing any attention to a moderately attractive asthmatic. Realistically, he could have his pick of the most beautiful women in the city.
I had no delusions about my appearance. I was pretty, I wasn’t gorgeous. I had my father’s money, but Evan had more. Older pedigree, more money. There was nothing that I brought to the table. Not his table anyway.
“Ashleigh, you look lovely tonight,” he said genuinely. “So happy to see you again. I’m thrilled you and your father will be dining at my table this evening.”
He offered his arm and I had no choice but to accept. Then he did something he’d never done before: bent down and kissed my cheek. A simple press of lips, yet I had to force myself not to pull away. Cameras were clicking. I was smiling. Nothing to see here. Just two old friends greeting each other at a charity event.
I walked into the hotel on his arm, Arthur trailing behind us like the doting father.
These images would make local news. They might even make the side bar pages of rag newspapers or entertainment magazines.
Evan Sanderson escorting a young woman to a charity event. Evan Sanderson kissing said woman on the cheek.
New York’s most eligible bachelor and the young blonde on his arm. Who was she?
That’s what the magazines would ask. They would want to know my name. Our association. This was going to be a story with pictures of me smiling as he kissed my cheek.
Marc was going to see these pictures.
The event proceeded as expected. Small talk, meaningless chatter, a nod to the poor animals who would benefit as a result of tonight. Evan sat next to me and was as polite as he’d been on any other occasion. Until he turned the conversation in a more personal direction.
“Your father told me you’d been unwell. I was upset to hear that.”
Around us, our tablemates were talking amongst themselves and Evan had lowered his voice to speak to me directly.
So, Arthur had told him about my health. Was that a good thing? Would Evan see me as, somehow, weaker?
I smiled. “I’m recovered.”
“Enough to dance with me?” he asked, an impish grin around his mouth.
I was about to reject his offer, using the perfect excuse of my weakened state that he’d given me, when Arthur interjected.
“You two go dance!” he said, a little louder than he should have. He was on his third drink of the night. “That’s what being young is all about.”
I clenched my teeth together, but decided it would be better to get it over with now.
“Of course,” I said tightly.
As Evan lead me to the dance floor, I realized how strange it felt to be in his arms. Like he was the absolutely wrong fit, where Marc fit me perfectly.
“You’re tense, Ashleigh,” he said, as he moved me gracefully around the floor. “Relax. I’m not going to bite you. I don’t know if it’s escaped your notice, but I’m trying to get you to like me.”
I looked up at his handsome face, his benign expression. “Why?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Why do I need to like you?”
He shrugged. “I like and respect your father. We’ve become an odd set of friends these past few years. Seems normal, I would think, that the friendship extended to you as well, since you’re his only family.”
“I suppose I want to be clear. You know I’m worlds below your league. You should be out here dancing with one of the supermodels who came tonight, or that actress at the table behind us.”
“Yes, but I’m not. I’m here with you. There is something refreshing about your mistrust of me, Ashleigh. Most women blindly throw themselves at me, but you, you’re more cautious.”
I didn’t hesitate. “I’m not cautious, I’m simply not interested in you that way.”
He smiled. “Well, good. Because I’m not interested in you that way, either. I meant what I said. I’ve enjoyed your father’s company. We have a mutual interest we’ve discovered. Beyond that, I’ve enjoyed conversations with you and would like our friendship to grow.”
It sounded simple. It sounded non-threatening. There probably wasn’t any reason I shouldn’t believe him.
I just didn’t.
Later that evening
Ashleigh
The evening wore down and Arthur and I prepared to leave for the penthouse, Evan graciously said good evening. Bestowed another seemingly innocent kiss on my cheek. This time when he pulled away, he gave me a wink before he let me go.
I walked calmly out of the hotel with my back straight, as Arthur guided us to the car, having already called George to pick us up.
“Nice night, Ashleigh?” George asked.
“Very nice, George.” I said pol
itely. “Everyone looked so lovely.”
Arthur seemed pleased with the answer.
For the rest of the drive across town, I got to seethe in silence.
I hated that Evan’s mouth had touched any part of me. My body belonged to Marc. My soul belonged to Marc. Evan’s touch, as seemingly innocent as it was, felt like a drop of poison on my cheek, burning its way through my skin. A stain only Marc could erase.
I had to tell him. I had to give him some context for what he might see. Not that I imagined him wasting time watching entertainment news or reading rag magazines.
I relaxed against the leather seat when I considered the outlets where those pictures might appear. Nothing that would be remotely interesting to Marc.
For now, I was safe.
Ritz-Carlton
Same Night
Marc
It had been a stupid impulse. I was in town because I’d worked at the office today, and Ash had said she had an event in the city. Trevor had known Arthur’s schedule, so I thought…
I’d stop by. She wanted to see me. We were in the same city for once. How hard could it be?
I hadn’t seen her in person since Florida. As much as we texted, as much as we talked, Google chats weren’t seeing her in person. She was right to want that. I wanted it, too.
Obviously, I knew I couldn’t walk up to her and say hello. Instead, I’d hung out across the street on the edges of Central Park where I could see the action. I was going to send her a text. Let her know I was outside.
She could have made an excuse to go the bathroom and we would have had some time.
Minutes. Enough time for me to kiss her. Touch her. Hold her. Enough time to watch her face light up because I’d done something remotely romantic and made this happen.
I was supposed to be heading to Princeton tonight. I had a shit ton of schoolwork that had to be completed in advance of this week. Instead, I’d taken the subway uptown. Hung around for what was now more than an hour, only to watch as some slick dude approached their car as it pulled up. I saw her back as she exited the car, then he took Ash’s arm.
Bent down and kissed her cheek.
She smiled. She didn’t pull away. They knew each other.
That was my cheek. Her arm was my arm. I should have been the one escorting my fucking girlfriend to the damn event, but instead, I was standing across the street like the little fucking drug addict’s boy I was.
Rage filled me. I thought of going over there, breaking into the event, lifting Ash over my shoulder and stealing her away. What a scene that would cause.
Except it would out us as a couple and that wasn’t the plan.
The plan was for me to graduate first, which now I could officially do this year.
Then what? I wondered. We continued to hide in the shadows while she appeased her father? We confronted Arthur and suddenly hoped for his blessing?
It wasn’t like the money was going to come instantly. I would need to work for a while to save up enough cash to eventually get a place of my own. What was Ash going to do? Work? She’d never held a job in her life.
No college education, no practical experience. A semester of fucking finishing school. The best she might hope for was a waitressing gig.
A waitress.
I lifted my gaze to the five-star hotel across the street. Ash and her father had long since disappeared inside, but the flow of elegant people continued to roll in. She was going to walk away from all of this?
To be a waitress?
The anger that had fueled me, that nearly prompted me to walk inside and claim what was mine, drained out of me. All I was left with was reality.
Ashleigh thought she loved me. She thought love was strong enough to see us through anything. She thought I desperately needed her love in order to function.
All very romantic, very impractical thoughts.
She was a princess and she was supposed to marry a prince. Or, at the very least, someone who was as rich as she was.
I was the chauffer’s charity case nephew and I was supposed to know my place.
Tucking my hands into my jeans pockets, I hunched my shoulders into a coat not quite heavy enough to ward off the winter chill, and left.
Princeton
Marc
Early the next morning I woke up in my dorm room to a bunch of texts. Sent early enough she wouldn’t have expected a response.
Ash2: Hey. Okay, this sucks but you might see some pictures of me at the event last night. With someone.
I hadn’t seen pictures. I’d seen the real thing instead.
Ash2: The man in the picture is Evan Sanderson. He’s the one I told you about. Arthur sprang it on me last minute he would be there.
So that was him. The man Ash believed her father wanted her to marry. Made sense. Rich. Handsome. Probably an asshole. Ash made it sound like she was being sold, but wasn’t that what the rich did? Play matchmakers amongst themselves so they could all intermarry into money. Keep it all where they believed it belonged.
Ash2: I hate this, Marc. I hate not seeing you. I hate pretending you’re not the most important part of my world. Anyway, I went shopping today in the city. It’s pretty cold, and I’m guessing you don’t even have a scarf. You need one if you’re going to work in Manhattan during the winter. I’m sending this to you today. Text back when you wake up. Or don’t, if you’re mad at me. But you really can’t be, because YOU KNOW ME.
I read them all but didn’t respond. I couldn’t tell her I’d been there, seen her, seen him, and how right they looked together. And I hadn’t done anything to make contact with her. It would upset her to think we’d been close. It would upset her to know I let some guy kissing her fucking cheek put me off.
Tossing the phone to the end of the bed, I laid back down and groaned.
I’d told her the drama was worth it. I’d believed it when I said it.
Now, I wasn’t so sure.
8
Landen Enterprises, LLC
March
Marc
“I’ll have the roast beef on rye with mayo,” I ordered. I grabbed a bottle of water and paid. Then I stepped aside and let Trevor place his order. The place was packed, so it would be a few minutes before our sandwiches were ready.
I found a table for two at the back of the small, cramped deli that had become our go-to for lunch on Saturdays and Sundays. It was the closest restaurant within walking distance of the office, and on a wicked cold day, it was our first choice.
I took off my coat and scarf. The present Ash had bought me. She was right. More times than not, it was freezing in the city and walking around was unpleasant. An arctic blast coming from Canada was currently blanketing the East Coast, plunging the temperatures into single digits.
Which meant Ash was now in Sedona, Arizona. Fearful of the low temperatures weather forecasters were predicting, Landen didn’t want to risk her having another attack so close to her last one.
For once, I agreed with him.
Ash didn’t. She didn’t like the idea of being so far away, but in the end, she didn’t have much choice.
It wasn’t like we could see each other anyway. Between school and working weekends, I had exactly zero free time. Landen had been right about that.
All we had were texts and late-night phone calls, with exactly zero plans to see each other in the near future.
Ash didn’t seem to mind. She seemed content for us to linger in this limbo because she considered the end, my graduation, in sight. The end, when everything would change.
In some ways, I suppose it didn’t bother me, either. It wasn’t like I had any time for anyone right now. It sucked not being able to get laid when I wanted, but, other than that, not too much had changed between us really.
My concern, which was not Ash’s concern, was what came next. Exactly what did she think was going to happen the day after I graduated? It’s like she could see this definable future for us, just sitting out there. Waiting for us.
; For me, that future was far more uncertain.
“Hey, I grabbed your sandwich for you,” Trevor said, plopping down my roast beef in front of me, then opening up the turkey sandwich he consistently opted for.
“Thanks.”
We ate mostly in silence, until, finally, he lifted his chin in my direction.
“What?” I asked.
“So, how’s it going?”
“As of today, I’m just over twelve thousand.”
“Nice,” Trevor muttered. “That’s better than a fifteen percent return.”
“Part of the investment was a pretty big risk, but it paid off. Once I cleared ten percent, the rest was easy.”
“Impressive. You might be working full-time sooner than you realize.”
I wasn’t doing anything until I had my degree. A degree was more permanent than money. Money could be made and lost, but a degree would mean I always had the potential to make more money.
My mother never had one. George hadn’t, either, although he didn’t talk too much about his life before I came to live with him. Only said that he’d made bad choices.
“We’ll see,” I muttered around a mouthful of sandwich. “How often does Landen check that stuff?”
Trevor shook his head. “No clue. He’s got access to all the accounts, so he can monitor them, but whether that’s weekly…monthly…who knows? I was here for almost seven months, then out of the blue he assigned me two clients.”
“How many new people does he bring on each year?”
“You’re the first since I started two years ago. Landen likes a tight-knit organization. And he doesn’t like a lot of turnover. People come, he makes sure they have the opportunity to make a shit ton of money, and they stay. There was only one guy who left recently. Dean Benfield. He’d been with the firm for over ten years. And when I say left, it was not pretty. They really got into it in Landen’s office.”