Playboy in Paradise: The Complete Set

by S. L. Scott

  There are other pictures behind him, Kate winning Prom Queen and one of her graduating last May cum laude from NYU. But when my eyes meet his, he asks, “Have you ever seen this picture, Evan?”

  He turns an eight by ten silver frame from his desk around for me to see. I nod, recognizing it instantly. It’s a picture of my mother holding me, as a newborn, in her arms with Kate on her hip. Kate is kissing or licking my head, I can’t be sure, but it makes me smile. My mother looks so young which is amazing because she looks pretty damn young now. She’s relaxed and happy. Her hair hangs down all natural, soft waves catching the light from the window. She’s beautiful.

  “I’ve always loved this picture of the three of you. It actually motivates me to do my best because it reminds me that I have people relying on me. Have you seen this picture?” My dad hands me a smaller silver framed photo. “That’s all of the New York office employees last year at the Gala. It’s also a good reminder of my responsibilities to this company.”

  I look up, meeting his focused gaze and I reassure him, “You’re not going anywhere. Kate and I will make sure of it. I know you’re not ready to retire. We all do.” I stand up, knowing I need to take care of a few things before the meeting starts. Leaning forward, he takes my hand in his and shakes it. His other hand covers the back of mine. He doesn’t need to say anything more. He’s placed his trust in us and I refuse to let him down. Standing up, I hang onto the company photo. “Can I hold onto this one? I’d like to have it in the meeting.”

  He nods, puts his glasses back on, and starts flipping through the papers on his desk again.

  TWO HOURS LATER

  Kate and I welcome the board members to the offices and she leads the discussion. As representatives of the company and our father, she plans to show that he’s behind all the success of Ashford Holdings.

  FOUR HOURS LATER

  We listen to eight of the twelve members and the opinions seem to vary based on that individual’s goals for the company or what they want to see happen with the company in the long run.

  Lunch is brought in and during that time, we break from the meeting to return emails or call-backs. Kate and I sit on opposite ends of the large conference table and through casual conversation, drive our message home. I glance at the silver frame of the employees throughout the meeting to remind me of the importance of keeping my father in his rightful place, leading this company to further success.

  EIGHT HOURS LATER

  I stand behind Kate as she knocks on my fathers’ office door. Most of the employees have gone home, but my father calls, “Come in.” He’s always the last to leave.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be in a tux and across town in an hour?” Kate asks, sitting down in front of his desk.

  “Your mother is going to kill me if we’re late to the cocktail party before this ball. As one of the organizers, she is supposed to be there to greet guests, but I had a few things on my mind.” He stands and puts on his jacket, preparing to leave. He looks distant and worried.

  “Dad, don’t you want to know the results of the board vote?” Kate asks, watching him look for his keys.

  He doesn’t say anything, but stills.

  “You’re in. It’s all okay. You’re still in charge, old man,” she says.

  His head pops up and looks at her in disbelief. “What?” He looks at me and asks, “What?”

  I walk toward him and confirm what Kate said. “You’re still running this place. You think you can handle it?”

  With his confidence back, he grabs us both into a group hug. “I can definitely handle it.” His face is buried between us and he whispers, “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you so much.” It sounds as if he’s on the verge of crying and I hear Kate sniffle. I remain quiet, closing my eyes, and appreciating this moment.

  “I love you, kids. Always know I love you.”

  I know in this moment he’s speaking from his heart. He wouldn’t have said any different if we would have failed. Kate tells him the same, but I also feel her hand on my back, gripping my shirt to silently let me know she means me too.

  “I love you, Dad.” I wrap my arm around Kate’s waist and squeeze a little. “I love you too, Katie.”

  After a strong clap to the back, my dad says, “I really have to go before I get my butt kicked by your mother.”

  We laugh at this relaxed and rare remark from our dad.

  “We’ll see you there. We have some stuff to do before we go home,” Kate says, signaling us to leave.

  “Son, you’re still coming tonight, right?”

  “Yes, I’ll be there.”

  “Good. I don’t like to upset the little missus.”

  Once I’m back at my desk in the privacy of my office, I call Mallory.

  “Hhhhiiiii, babe,” she answers, sounding a bit relaxed herself.

  “Hey there. I just got out of the meeting. It lasted all day,” I say, kicking my feet up on my desk, leaning back, and enjoying my city view. “Long story short, my dad is still President and won’t be retiring anytime soon.”

  “That sounds like a curse as much as a blessing,” she laughs.

  “Yeah, to me also. So your first week of classes is under your belt. How do you feel?”

  “Fantastic. Sarah is here and we’re chatting about it now.”

  “Well, tell her ‘hello’ from me.”

  “I will. I think we’re gonna go down to The Sink tonight.”

  “What’s The Sink?”

  “Oh,” she giggles again. “I forget you don’t know about any of the local places here. Um, it’s a bar near campus where a lot of our friends hang out.” As she’s talking, I realize that she has this whole other life that I know nothing about. I look at my shoes, noticing the new scuffs on them and try not to feel bad, when she says, “I get to be the one to introduce all these places to you. Though I have to admit, most of the campus hangouts are pretty dull.”

  “They wouldn’t be with you there.”

  I smile as her tone turns playful. “Mr. Ashford, you flatter me so.”

  “And I always will, my love.”

  She’s quiet for a moment then says, “I guess Sarah’s ready to go.”

  I take my feet off my desk and sit up straight, remembering how I need to let her have these experiences. “Oh yeah, you go. I have this event I have to attend tonight anyway.”

  “An event?” she asks, her voice changing as her curiosity piques.

  “Yeah, this ball that raises money for the Met Opera—”

  “A ball?”

  “Yeah, a stuffy event. It should be a pretty boring meet and greet type thing.”

  “Why does it suddenly feel like we’re living in two different worlds? I’m heading down to The Sink in old leggings and a baggy Colorado sweatshirt.” She says exactly what I’m thinking. On the plus side, that outfit she’s wearing might be the perfect guy repellant from the sound of it and that makes me smile. “And you’re off to a fancy schmancy ball.” I hear her swallow loudly. “Are you wearing a tuxedo?”

  I smile. “Yes.” I appreciate her jealousy.

  Another loud swallow. “Send me a picture of you in that tux, okay? I guess I should go. Sarah’s standing at the door tapping her foot,” she says. “Congratulations to your family and to you, Evan. I’m proud of you.”

  I’m not ready to hang up, but I will for her. “Have fun tonight.”

  “You too, babe.” She sounds like she’s trying to sound happy, but I can tell she’s not.

  “Yeah, okay.”

  We hang up on that awkward note and I can’t help but feel we’re out of sync right now, living in two different worlds.

  56

  Mallory

  Sarah buys two gin and tonics and returns from the bar with a smile on her face. Sliding onto her stool with a mischievous look in her eye, she says, “Everybody is here tonight, Mal. I’m so glad you finally came out.”

  “You know you’re able to go out without me.” My sarcasm is on point tonight.
I shift on my stool as I’m elbowed from behind. “And yes, I think you’re right. Everybody is out tonight and they are all crammed in here.”

  “Perk up, girlie!” she says, poking my shoulder. “No bummer talk. I know you miss Evan, but let’s have some fun. Can we please do that?”

  “I feel bad about how we ended our call earlier though.”

  “Mallory, I’m sure you were both just distracted. I mean you said he was going out and you were going out.” Her words don’t soothe my concerns. “Now c’mon, let’s enjoy being out. We finished the first full week of classes of our senior year. That deserves a toast!”

  We hold up our glasses, tap them together and take a sip. After a few more sips, enough sips to finish my drink, I go to the bar to order the next round. Sarah’s right. A lot of our friends are here tonight and it’s fun to get off campus. I need to relax, so I order two more gin and tonic’s and wait.

  Just as the bartender tells me ‘ten even’, a voice next to me says, “I got it.”

  Looking to my right, Ryan is standing next to me, handing the bartender cash.

  “You don’t need to do that. I have money,” I say, feeling uneasy about him buying the drinks.

  “I’m sure you do,” he says, turning to the side to face me, but disregarding my reasoning.

  “Well, thank you for the drinks.”

  “My pleasure.” His cocky smirk briefly reminds me of Evan, and our gaze connects a beat longer than I’m comfortable with.

  I turn to go, but suddenly I feel guilty for letting him buy our drinks and for walking away, so I stand there awkwardly debating between walking away and staying at the bar.

  Ryan laughs and asks, “Do I make you nervous, Mallory?”

  “Um.” I look up at him, and lie, “No. I should get Sarah her drink though. Thanks again… for the drinks.”

  He raises his beer into the air. “Anytime.”

  Fortunately, he doesn’t follow me back to the table where some unwelcome company has joined us. I hand Sarah her drink and slide back onto the barstool next to her. I ignore him. “Ryan bought our drinks,” I tell her as if no one else is around.

  “Really? That certainly was nice of him. I wonder…” she says, tapping her chin playfully “…why?”

  “I know what you’re doing or should I say inferring? I’m not interested in him, Sar. I’m off the market and Evan will be here in four months. I’m sure he’ll visit before then.”

  “I wasn’t saying you should date him. I just think he likes you, is all.”

  “You’re really just going to ignore me, Mallory?”

  I hear an annoying asshat saying my name like he still has a right to do so. I sip my drink and continue to ignore Will.

  He huffs in frustration, then whines, “Why do you hate me so much?”

  That comment gets my insides boiling instantly. “Are you serious? You’re fucking serious right now?” I stand, pointing my finger at him.

  His head moves back abruptly—a bit meek and a lot worried. “Yes.” At least he looks a little afraid.

  Just when I’m about to lay into him, Ryan steps between us, and says, “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Why do you let this guy get to you?”

  I look up into Ryan’s eyes, which are about one foot higher than my own. I don’t understand what he’s trying to accomplish. He’s all mysterious and kind to me, but yet he’s friends with him. That makes no sense. But my brain finally catches on. This is a set-up. Will is probably trying to pull a trick, a ruse on me. He probably set this whole good cop, bad cop or in Will’s case, Stupid cop, act up. Well, I’m not falling for it!

  “I know what you two are up to and you can forget about it. I’m two steps ahead of you, which coincidentally looks a little something like this.” I walk toward the door while gulping the rest of my drink on the way. I set the glass down on a nearby table and push the door wide open.

  The chilly night air blasts me and I shiver, but I still move forward, stepping out onto the sidewalk. I pull my emergency cigarette from my back pocket and bum a light from some guy smoking against the brick building. I’ve been carrying it around, just in case, this entire past week. I thought I’d kicked the habit when I returned home since I couldn’t smoke for the week at my parents’ house, but with the stress of Will, and Ryan, and missing Evan, I greedily inhale, enjoying the feel of relief it gives me.

  I’m about a block away from The Sink when Ryan runs up from behind and grabs me by the arm. “Hey, Mallory, stop! I think you’ve got the wrong idea.”

  Standing there with a hand on my hip and the other one holding my savior stick, I ask, “Really? Well, what’s the real deal here?”

  “Deal with what?”

  “Why are you being so nice to me?”

  He looks confused, squinting his eyes until they are almost closed. “What? I can’t be nice to you without harboring ulterior motives?”

  “Yeah, something like that.” I cross my arms and tap my foot for added effect.

  His hands go up in surrender. “If you don’t want to be friends,” he says, but hesitates. “Okay. We won’t be friends, but it seems to make sense to me because we’re working on this project together and we have some friends in common—”

  “Will is no friend of mine. He’s an asshole!”

  “I stand corrected.” When he says stuff like that—a little formal and a little sarcastic—he also reminds me of Evan.

  I drop my head, looking down at my phone at the thought of Evan; the picture of us so prominently displayed.

  “I didn’t expect you to be a smoker.” Ryan is quieter, curious.

  “I don’t. Uh, well, I didn’t. Sometimes I smoke, usually when I’m stressed. You don’t know me well enough to know things like that about me.”

  “I was kind of hoping I’d get the chance to know you better.” He points down at my phone and asks, “Who’s that? Is that your boyfriend?”

  Looking back up, I nod. “Yeah, his name is Evan.”

  “Where does he go to school?”

  With that one question, he built a little trust with me, and that is how my relationship went from basically non-existent to friendly with Ryan.

  EVAN

  Sitting politely at the table, I wait for my dishes to be cleared before I squirm. I want out of here, but I promised my mother I would stay through the meal, especially a meal that cost fifteen hundred dollars a plate. At least it goes to support the arts, The Metropolitan Opera specifically, so it’s all good.

  I suffer, listening to two different speakers, and crave a fucking cigarette. I want one so bad that it’s becoming painful. I’m antsy and fidgeting with the tablecloth when Kate touches my hands to still them. I thought I kicked the bad habit in Hawaii, Mallory and I both did. Now, here I am with cravings again.

  Right before I stand up, I whisper to the other guests seated at the table, “Excuse me, please.” I hurry out the double doors in the corner and make my way toward the exit. I walk a block down and buy a box of my old favorites then head back to the hotel where the ball is being held. As soon as I find a protected spot from the wind, I light up.

  Closing my eyes, I enjoy the basic sensation of this small pleasure—inhaling deeply— and ignore the burn in my chest that reminds me of how long it has been since I smoked.

  “Mind if I bum one off you?” A female voice gets my attention.

  Turning to see, a woman is walking closer. She’s older than me, maybe ten years or more, but looks fantastic for any age. She’s wearing a bright purple dress that fits her curves like a second skin and is wearing heels that not only let you know she’s quite confident, but also lets you know exactly what she wants. I can bet money that she wears them to seduce men. I admit the woman is a knock-out.

  Leaving the cigarette between my lips, I reach into my pocket to retrieve the pack, but she takes the one from my mouth and brings to her lips. I watch, fascinated, as she takes it between her fingers and blows the smoke to the side of my face. “Thanks,” she says, almost pu
rring. “Brrrr!” She shivers. “Do you mind if I borrow your jacket until we’re done here?”

  “Done? I didn’t know we’d started.” My eyes are focused on hers, my old confidence kicking in—a hunter and its prey. The only difference between the cliché and my life is the prey doesn’t usually invite you to attack, but my prey does. I’ve always had a hard time saying no, especially to a pretty lady in need of a non-committal good time.

  I take my jacket off and place it around her shoulders as she takes another drag. She brings the cigarette back to my mouth, her fingertip brushing against my bottom lip. Something tells me if I take her up on this one seemingly innocent gesture that it might lead to bigger offers and I can’t allow myself to be tempted. Not anymore. I respond by saying, “I’m done, are you ready to go back inside?”

  “Done?” She asks, “I thought we were just getting started?”

  “I need to get back.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  Chills shiver down my spine as she tosses the cigarette onto the street and slips her arm around mine, though I hadn’t presented it to her. I need to get my jacket back from her anyway and it would be rude to demand it back on the street.

  When we enter the reception area of the ball, the event photographer stops us, and quickly snaps a picture.

  She removes her arm from mine, and I ask for my jacket back by eyeing it. “I might, um, need that back.”

  “I was hoping you’d want it back in the morning, maybe say after a night at my place?”

  In the past, my body would have definitely reacted, but my brain knows that’s wrong, knowing I’ll lose Mallory if my body wins this battle.

  Just the thought of her name brings her face into focus in my mind—Mallory smiling, Mallory laughing, Mallory coming undone beneath me.

  “My apologies, but I’ll have to pass, though I appreciate the offer.” I don’t appreciate it. She doesn’t hesitate handing my jacket back to me either. She doesn’t even seem upset by the rejection, but I still feel awkward.