It was Arthur who was pushing him toward graduation, and now making him work every hour he wasn’t studying.
Me: I’m sorry. I shouldn’t put the pressure on you to figure that out. I’ll think of something. Just don’t forget me, okay?
Marc: It’s not the easiest situation for us, Ash. You know that. But I’m not going to forget you.
Me: If only your uncle worked on a normal estate for a normal family. Your life probably would have been so much easier.
Marc: I’ll take the drama if it comes with you.
I sighed and beamed.
Me: You know, that was a really nice thing you said to me. Maybe the nicest.
Marc: I was told I had to say nice things. Don’t get used to it. I don’t do sappy. Goodnight.
Me: Goodnight.
The Ritz-Carlton
Ashleigh
We were in the car, waiting in a line of other cars, to be dropped off at the front door of the event. I watched as women dressed to the nines, and men in their tuxes, poured out of every vehicle. I had this funny image of a circus act with clowns, but instead of a hundred clowns popping out of a single car, it was a billionaire and his dates, dripping in diamonds, popping out of a hundred cars.
That’s what so many of these charity events were about. Letting everyone else see how much money you could wear in a single evening. The purpose of the night, the true work, could be accomplished by removing one of those diamond bracelets or necklaces and giving it to the charity.
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.