“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 politely. “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.