It was totally creepy and intimidating.
“Have a seat, Ashton.”
Her voice sounded ominous, and my heart beat double time as I sat down.
She used a remote to turn on her TV. She had a clip of Evan and me from the previous day’s press conference, paused at the moment just before Evan kissed me.
“Do you see this?” she asked, pointing with her remote. “Do you see that pathetic, sappy look on your face? I can actually tell the moment when he won you over. When you started to fall for that American pie, Fourth of July, football fantasy that Evan Dawson sells.”
I started breathing hard, anxiety overwhelming me. I didn’t do well when people in authority spoke to me this way.
“Watch this.” She pressed PLAY. “It is so obvious that the two of you hadn’t ever kissed before that moment. It was actually painful to watch. Look at how staged it is! Like somebody had to coach you through it beforehand.”
Even though she was berating me and making snide comments, the kiss wasn’t painful. It was . . . amazing. And watching it made me feel all over again everything I’d felt when it was happening.
Maybe it was sad that a pretend kiss was easily one of the best kisses of my entire life, but I didn’t think it looked staged or fake.
And I hated that she was trying to ruin this for me.
“What if Evan’s telling the truth? What if he is just a nice guy?”
“What if he is just a nice guy?” she mimicked me in a mocking, nasally tone. “Really? You’re being suckered into this? I thought you knew better. I thought you had some revenge you needed to inflict. If I’d assigned Rand to this story, he wouldn’t be all moony-eyed over Evan Dawson. You’re one of only two female interns in this office. Do you know how much harder we have to fight? How much more is expected of us?”
I was responsible for the perception of women for the entire company? That didn’t seem fair, but I was way too freaked out to say as much.
Brenda was on a roll. “Do you know why I hired you? Because you reminded me of myself. Strong, ambitious, driven. Willing to do whatever it took to rise to the top.”
Getting told off like this tended to make me shut down, which was what was happening right now. I kept trying to regulate my breathing, but it wasn’t working.
She stood up and turned off the TV, plunging the room into darkness. She flipped a light switch, and I blinked, blinded by the sudden brightness.
“Evan Dawson is using you,” she said. “For his contract renegotiation. So he’s going to say whatever he has to say and do whatever he has to do to get you on his side. To play along until he doesn’t need you anymore, and then he’ll dump you.”
Brenda moved to the corner of her desk, positioning herself on the edge while she stared down at me. “Are you really that girl? The one who is this close to having the career she’s always wanted, but you’re just going to give it all up and walk away for some guy? Choosing a relationship over a job? With a guy you can’t even trust? Have some self-respect, Ashton.”
I nodded, blinking back the anxious and angry tears that were making my vision watery. I would not cry, because Brenda would never let me live it down.
“Go home and think about what kind of employee you want to be. What choices you want to make. Your job is very much on the line here. I expect for you to have the information I want soon. A top reporter would have had this story to me days ago. This is your chance to impress me, and I have a roomful of interns dying to do just that. You need to decide if you’re going to deliver on the potential I see in you or accept that there’s only room at ISEN for reporters who can deliver.”
I heard the dismissal in her voice and quickly stood, then made my way out of her office and to the elevators. I felt nauseous, and my limbs were shaky and cold. I had to get out of the building. When the doors slid open and I stepped into the thankfully empty elevator car, I finally allowed myself to sob all the way down to the lobby.
I’d been wrong. There wasn’t going to be a way to get out of this Evan story and keep my job. I’d be held up in my family as the Poor Example of a Daughter, who had failed to take her parents’ advice and now wouldn’t be able to afford to live. I would have to start all over at a different branch of ISEN or with a different network. Which meant I’d be living at home since I didn’t have the money to fund another internship. And then I’d have to get a second job just to pay my expenses.
I walked out to my car and stumbled to a halt when I realized the front driver’s side tire had gone flat.
And I already had my spare tire on one of the rear wheels.
“Could this day get any worse?”
Although the tears were blinding my vision, I picked up my phone and dialed.
“Hey, Ashton, what are you up to?”
“Evan? I need your help.”
He must have heard something in my voice because he went from fun and flirty to totally serious. “Are you okay?”
“I’m . . . stranded. I was out running, and I had to stop by my office, and now I have a flat tire, and I don’t have a spare, and everything is just terrible.” My throat felt thick as I tried to hold back my tears.
“Whatever you need, I’m there. Tell me where you are.”
It was why I had called him. Somehow I’d known he’d show up, no questions asked. I gave him the address. “There’s something else. I’m going to have to call a tow truck and wait for them. Which means I’ll be late to Thanksgiving, and that means I’ll get attitude from my mother. Can you go by my condo and get my change of clothes and shoes that I left on my bed and then come and pick me up?”
“Absolutely. How am I going to get into your condo?”
“The front door is unlocked.” It was a bad habit of mine. My roommates in college had constantly yelled at me about it.
He paused for so long that I thought the call had dropped. “Ashton, why would you leave your front door unlocked? You live in the city. Do you know how dangerous that is?”
“Yes, I’m obviously too stupid to live and will get murdered in my sleep.”
“Just . . . it’ll be okay. We’ll talk about it later. When you will promise me to never leave your front door unlocked again. I’ll be there soon. Everything’s going to be all right.”
And when he said it, I believed it. We hung up, and I called the tow truck company, which arrived much faster than I’d anticipated. I had them take my car to the mechanic I usually went to, and then I called the mechanic to let them know what I needed. They promised to have the car back to me on Monday, given that it was almost the holiday weekend.
I left the parking garage and went to wait on the street for Evan to arrive. It occurred to me that when I was upset and needed help, I hadn’t even hesitated. Evan had been the first person I called. Not my parents, not my sisters.
Evan.
While I mulled over what that meant, he arrived in a big black SUV, darting across two lanes of traffic to pull up to the curb. He rolled down the window and pointed to my clothes in the back seat. “Do you want to go inside and get changed?”
I absolutely did not want to go inside and get changed. I didn’t want to be where Brenda was. “Holiday traffic getting out of the city is going to be awful. We need to get on the road. I’ll just change in the back seat.”
I opened the rear passenger side door, and an empty bottle of the Gatorade flavor that Evan endorsed fell out. The flavor was called, of course, Awesome Dawson. It was purple, and I’d always thought it tasted like douchebag and lies. The entire back seat was a complete mess. I had to move a bunch more empty bottles to get in. “It’s like a Gatorade graveyard back here.”
He pulled back into traffic, driving a bit faster than what most people would consider, you know, legal. “The psychologist said to let something be messy in my life.”
“So you chose your back seat?”
“I’m working on letting go.”
If only he knew what a mess my boss was trying to make of his person
al and professional life, he wouldn’t worry about the back seat.
I considered telling him, but now was not the time. “In case you didn’t know, your flavor is truly terrible,” I said, holding up one of the empty bottles before I dropped it.
“It’s an acquired taste. Like me.” His eyes met mine in the rearview mirror for a moment before he concentrated on the road again. “Hey, are you sure you want to get changed back there? I could pull over somewhere. Or you could wait and change at your mom’s house when we get there.”
“Just trust me, it is not worth the grief my mother will give me if I show up in workout clothes.” I took the sweater and skirt off their hangers. I suddenly realized that I’d forgotten to have Evan grab me a bra and underwear. Not that I wanted him pawing through my personal things, and it was too late now. I’d be in a sports bra and underwear that I could floss my teeth with. I desperately needed to do laundry. Other women wore their nicest/sexiest underwear first. I was the opposite. After I’d cleaned my clothes, I wore my most comfortable underwear first, and then I wore the stuff that would make my mother blush if I had nothing else left.
And I did not want to flash any of that at Evan.
“I can change back here,” I told him. “As long as you keep your eyes pointed that direction.” I had changed in the girls’ locker room in seventh grade and had been a master of staying mostly covered up while switching between outfits. This was no different.
I pulled my arms out of my tight mesh shirt, leaving it hanging over my chest while I slipped the sweater on. When I popped my head through the top, I caught a glimpse of Evan’s gaze in the mirror again.
“Eyes forward!” I told him. Not that there’d been anything to see, but the idea that he couldn’t help but look was . . . interesting. And a little bit thrilling.
“Sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry.
“That doesn’t seem very virginal of you,” I said as I put my arms through the sweater sleeves and pulled the extra shirt out through the top.
“I’m celibate, not a saint.”
I slid my skirt up over my running pants, turning it around so I could do the back button. When that was finished, I yanked my pants off and left them in the back seat. Then I climbed into the front seat next to Evan.
I glanced at him, and he looked, as always, ridiculously handsome. He’d swept his hair up and away from his face, had shaved, and was wearing a light-blue button-down with a darker blue tie and a navy sweater. He cleaned up very, very nicely.
Meanwhile, I looked like I’d just been running. I pulled down the visor and checked my reflection in the mirror. I’d need to do something with my hair when I got to my mom’s house, but I didn’t currently have a brush. My eyes still looked bloodshot. You could tell I’d been crying. Hopefully Mom had some eye drops, too. I flipped the visor back up and then put on my seat belt.
Once I was settled, he asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”
Brenda’s face filled my mind, her sneering taunts and harsh judgments. In the few minutes I’d been with him, I’d forgotten. But instead of saying no, I said, “Not yet.”
“Okay. But I’m here if you want to.” He took my hand, and a nervous tingle ran up the length of my arm when he squeezed. He let go to turn on his satellite radio. It was set to KPRD, our local sports channel. I wondered if they were hiring.
Because I could be out of a job very soon. Brenda’s words echoed in my head like they’d been seared into my brain: “Are you really that girl? Choosing a relationship over a job?”
Maybe Aubrey was right. Maybe there were things more important than money and a job.
Evan took my hand again, comforting me without saying anything.
Of course I didn’t want to be that girl.
But I also didn’t want to be the girl who missed out on her chance at something that might be pretty wonderful.
I didn’t want to be the girl who misjudged Evan and punished him for something he hadn’t done.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
When we arrived at my parents’ house, I asked him to wait a minute before he came inside. Whether that was to give him a chance to prepare or to give my family a second to get ready, I wasn’t sure. I let myself in the front door, and everybody pounced on me at the same time. Like they’d all been standing in the foyer, waiting on us.
“Where’s Evan?”
“Did you not bring him?”
“I’m going to run upstairs for a second,” I told them. “Can you please act like humans today and not embarrass me?”
My mom turned to the others and said, “You heard her. Today we are pleasant and totally normal.”
“What’s normal mean, Grandma?” Charlotte asked.
Good question. My life hadn’t felt “normal” in a long time. I went into my parents’ master bathroom and brushed my hair. The brushing motion was soothing. Maybe I’d asked Evan to wait not for anybody else’s sake but for mine. To prepare for my two worlds to collide, hard. Like a dinosaur-killing asteroid smacking into Earth.
I redid my ponytail quickly and flew back down the stairs just as Evan rang the doorbell. I opened it to see him standing on the porch, holding a large bouquet of flowers and a paper grocery bag.
“I’m sorry in advance,” I told him in a low voice as he came inside. He kissed me on the cheek, and I wondered if it was for show.
“Mr. Bailey, Mrs. Bailey, thank you for having me over. This is for you.” He handed my mother the flowers and the bag.
“Oh, thank you, Evan. You always were such a thoughtful boy. Brian, will you put these in water?”
My dad took the flowers and held out his hand to shake Evan’s. “So. You’re the Evan Dawson.”
“It’s just Evan, sir. I usually leave out ‘the.’”
My dad laughed as they shook hands. “Pleasure having you here, son.” Only he didn’t move to get water for the flowers. He just stood there, grinning at Evan.
“Hi, Satan,” Charlotte said, tugging on Evan’s hand. Charlotte had always been adept at figuring out words to make adults uncomfortable, and she said them as often as possible.
“Pretty soon that will be Uncle Satan to you, kiddo,” Rory said, waving at Evan.
And we all stood in the foyer, staring at one another.
Evan cleared his throat. “How is everyone?”
“Pleasant and totally normal,” Rory responded, her eyes dancing. She was enjoying herself. Much like her niece, she was also a fan of mischief.
Finally, realizing how uncomfortable the atmosphere had become, my mother started handing out marching orders. She told Rory to take Charlotte and Joey into the other room, reminded my dad to get water for the flowers, and asked Aubrey and Justin to start setting the table.
“Are they always like that?” Evan asked me in a whisper, his words tickling the outside of my ear.
I tried to ignore the shivers that skated across my skin. “No. Sometimes they’re weird.”
He grinned at me, and I couldn’t help but smile back.
“Ice cream?” my mother asked as she reached into the bag Evan had given her.
“It may have started to melt a little. But there are multiple flavors with everything that goes on top. I hope you don’t mind, but on Thanksgiving my family always had ice cream sundaes for dessert.”
For some reason that made my eyes well up, and I noticed it had the same effect on my mother. “That’s very sweet. We would love to honor your family’s tradition. Ashton, would you come help me put these away? Evan, would you mind giving Rory a hand?”
I offered an apologetic smile to Evan before following my mother. My dad filled a vase as quickly as possible, not even bothering to cut off the cellophane wrapping before sticking the flowers in. He rushed out, presumably to rejoin Evan and resume his hero worship.
The kitchen smelled amazing, roasted turkey and pumpkin and sweet potatoes with marshmallows all filling the air. Delicious scents that always made me think of home.
I wondered what
my mother was up to as she unloaded the bag. She didn’t need my help to stick ice cream in the freezer. Was this about to turn into a Guantanamo-level interrogation, or were we going to board the SS Guilt Trip?
Turned out to be neither.
“You know, I’d forgotten that Evan’s an orphan. You two will be here for every holiday. That’s every mother’s dream.” Her face was bright and happy at this revelation. She was disturbingly and uncharacteristically giddy. It was disconcerting.
“What? To get an orphaned in-law? You are certifiable,” I said, taking out the toppings, which included hot fudge, caramel, and sprinkles, and placing them in our pantry. There was no countertop space, as the mess for Thanksgiving covered every square inch. “I mean, I love you, but that’s crazy.”
Usually when I threw around words like crazy or certifiable, my mom would launch into a long explanation of why I shouldn’t use those kinds of terms because they were hurtful and not clinically quantifiable. Not today. “You’ll understand someday when your children start to get married.”
“You’re not going to, like, kill Justin’s parents, are you? Because now I’m going to have to testify against you so I won’t be prosecuted as an accomplice.”
“Who’s going to kill Justin’s parents?” Aubrey asked as she entered the kitchen.
“Mom. So she can be the only grandma.”
My mother rolled her eyes until Aubrey said, “Justin’s using the wrong silverware, and he won’t listen to me.”
That caused our mom to practically sprint into the formal dining room. She liked the table to be perfect for the holiday. Everything had to be as Norman Rockwell as possible.
“So I caught your little burlesque show yesterday.”
“What?” I asked as I looked in the fridge for a spot to put the whipped cream.
“The video? Of you and Evan kissing?”
“Oh.” I was glad I was standing in front of the refrigerator so it could cool off my cheeks. I took out the vegetable tray and set it on the counter to make some room. “That kiss was just for the reporters.”
#Awestruck (A #Lovestruck Novel) Page 16
