“You mean, does she know I’m in love with someone else?” Two other people, to be exact. Most people don’t know about Christopher, though. Only Harper. “She knows. She came to the wedding with me.”
“It’s still fucked up that he asked you to be his best man.”
“It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.” Because Ashleigh was with me. She was like my guardian angel, appearing when I needed her and then disappearing. Gone, gone, gone. So it’s just my bad luck that I didn’t stop needing her when she left.
Chapter Nineteen
Sutton
The next morning I find myself getting dressed the way I used to—in a suit. I head into the small offices of Mayfair Building Co, where I busted my ass on construction projects. That was before I met Christopher. Before I partnered with him and fell in love.
Our joint company, Bardot and Mayfair, had slick offices in a high-rise. It’s now empty. Winning Harper meant more than just a stumble in our friendship. He didn’t want to go to work every day with the man she’d fucked—and maybe loved, for half a second there.
Christopher went to work on a hotel that we’d planned to build together.
He’s been working, while I’ve been drinking and fucking.
For some reason, it seems that today, the day after Ashleigh left me, that’s going to change. A stack of mail piles up on the leather top of my desk. I’m sure it’s a good deal worse in my email inbox. Without any pomp or circumstance, I sit down and get to work. I’m halfway through the stack of correspondence when my secretary comes in.
“Sutton Mayfair. You could have called, you know? Nearly gave me a heart attack. You don’t come in for weeks, weeks, and then one day you’re sitting at your desk as if you never left.”
That makes me grin. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Ness.”
“And you’ve lost weight. What have you been eating? Your color’s not good either.”
The list of my shortcomings goes on for some time, but I take it with the certainty that I’m back where I belong. Mrs. Ness is one of the many women my father loved and left. I suppose it’s awkward, me hiring her. There are a lot of awkward moments in life when your father’s fucked half the female population. In Mrs. Ness’s case, her husband came back from his military tour, found out about the affair, and kicked her out of the house. It was a scandal when I was in middle school, considering she was the principal.
I probably shouldn’t say anything.
That’s what I tell myself while she runs through the list of things I should eat and drink, vitamins she’s heard are good, essential oils that would help.
“Mrs. Ness.”
“Your coffee! How could I forget. I assume you want it the same way—”
“In a moment. I want to ask you something, but I might be overstepping. In fact, I’m definitely overstepping. You can tell me to mind my own business.”
She raises her eyebrow in a way that only principals can do. She’s never lost the ability, even though she was fired shortly after the affair came out. Things like that were frowned upon twenty years ago. A woman’s personal life could keep her from a good job. “Go on.”
“With my father. Did you love him?”
“Oh God no. What made you think that? He was such fun though.”
A sharp laugh escapes me. “I never saw that side of him.”
“No, I suppose you didn’t.” She gives me a hard look. “I knew he was rough on you. Maybe I didn’t realize how rough. Or maybe I didn’t want to know, because I couldn’t have been with him, then.”
“I’m not looking for sympathy.”
She scoffs. “Of course not. Sutton Mayfair wouldn’t ever want sympathy. You don’t have a lot in common with your father, but you came by that pride honest.”
“This is why I keep you on payroll, Mrs. Ness. You flatter me.”
“You keep me around as penance. Don’t think I don’t know. I don’t mind, though. Someone has to remind you to eat. Now what made you ask about your father after all this time?”
“I suppose I just wondered… if any of it was real.”
“Then you’re asking the wrong question. Was it real? Of course it was. I was married to a man who let his fists do the talking, but I got to experience a passionate affair. That’s real.”
“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “For bringing it up. For stirring up old memories.”
“Your father was good to me. Real good. He saved the bad for you, I think.”
My stomach clenches, remembering the beatings and the hunger. The certainty that I would die before I got old enough to leave. “Yeah. I think so, too.”
“Now you swallow your pride and check your email.”
A bark of laughter. “Yes, ma’am.”
The call comes an hour later from Blue. His security company runs, among other things, private investigations. I didn’t want to work with my assigned guy, no matter how skilled he is. This is personal, so I asked Blue to look into it.
“I have the information you asked for.”
I close the door of my office. “Go ahead.”
“Ashleigh Barnes, reported missing six months ago by her father, Jebediah Barnes. Straight A student before that, family and friends insist that she’d never run away.”
Straight A student. My stomach clenches. “Age.”
“Seventeen.”
My heart pounds in my ears, my chest. I can feel it pounding in my fucking eyes. Seventeen. Seventeen? I want to throw my fist into the wall. Or break down on my office floor and cry. I have to do something with this knowledge. Blue’s voice comes through the phone, sounding a million miles away. He’s saying something about the age of consent being sixteen and not being on trial for statutory charges, because he’s a smart guy—he knows why I’m asking. Jesus. I’m not worried about going to jail. Someone should put me there. Throw away the key. I don’t care what the law says. She was too young for me in every way.
Chapter Twenty
Ashleigh
Ky’s not okay.
His breathing is shallow. We’ve still got the money from Sutton, but I don’t know if I can even get him into the urgent care. He can’t walk or even move. He’s barely conscious. I can go down to the gas station and call an ambulance, but they’re not going to take the cash in my pocket. They want a credit card.
He moans and strains his head back. Once they calm him down they’ll probably charge him for using. And maybe throw in a solicitation charge.
“Hush,” I whisper, pressing the cool compress to his forehead. I wish I knew what the problem was. Is it the crack? He should have come down by now. I’m not sure what kind of side effects can happen. I’ve seen him come back high before; it’s never been like this.
“Ash,” he mumbles. “Ash. Ash.”
I clench his hand. “I’m right here. Can’t you see me?”
He looks right through me. “I’m dying, Ashleigh.”
“Don’t say that. Don’t you dare say that. You kept me alive. You know that. You found me in that alley, and I was ready to give up, and you kept me alive. Now I’m returning the favor.”