Loving the Playboy

by Scott, S. L.

  And all is right in the world knowing he feels the same when he says, “Fuck, I can’t go back to New York without you.”

  “Good. Because I’m not letting you leave.” I press my lips against his chest, letting them linger as the taste of his skin, salty and soapy, graces my tongue. I push his wet hair off his face. “I’ve got to get ready. You still want to come with me?”

  “I just did,” he chuckles.

  “Stop it,” I chide, enjoying our lightened moods after the intensity of the activity.

  “You need the time with your parents and I actually have some business on campus.”

  Surprised, I ask, “What? A meeting? It’s Saturday. I thought the offices were closed on Saturday?”

  He pours shampoo into my cupped hand and some into his. As we start washing each others’ hair like we’ve done so many times before, he says, “They are, but this is when the last name Ashford and my school record come in handy.”

  “So they’re giving you special treatment because of your name?”

  “And my school record. I’m not just a hot body here.” He smiles.

  “Does everything in life come easy because of your name?” I ask, rinsing my hair under the water.

  He watches me with focused intensity, looking deep into my eyes. “No, not everything has come easily.” Just by his emphasis on the words, I know he’s referring to us, but what he still fails to recognize is that he always had me. We both foolishly thought we could walk away, but it wasn’t meant to be as clean or easy as that. He breaks my train of thought by adding, “It’s a fact I’ve used my name to my advantage over the years, but like in Lani’s case, sometimes it can cause more harm than good. The press loved smearing me in the papers.”

  Turning off the shower, I reach for the towels, handing him one and we dry off. As I brush through the tangles in my wet hair, he sits on the edge of the tub and watches me. “I think you look really pretty without make-up.”

  In the reflection of the mirror, I smile when I see the sincerity in his eyes. “My mother still says that too.” I revert my eyes back to my face, and ask, “Don’t you think I should cover these dark circles though?”

  “I don’t see any dark circles.”

  My sweet boyfriend has always seen the best in me.

  Thirty minutes and many complaints about my slow driving later, I drop him off on campus. “Do you need directions?” I offer. “The campus is really big.”

  “No. I looked it up yesterday when I called about my application. I think I head south from the quad. It’s four buildings down on the right.”

  “Who are you meeting with anyway?”

  “Um, I think the name is Lawrence.”

  “Dr. Lawrence, The Dean of Students, is meeting you on a Saturday?”

  “He’s giving me a tour of the campus too.” He nods, his expression all smug.

  I try to keep my jaw from dropping open at the ‘special treatment’ he’s receiving and instead focus on the positives. He’s here having meetings and taking tours, which is amazing and I smile at the realization. “You’re really gonna do it, aren’t you?”

  “What? Take a tour?”

  “No, move here. You’re really transferring for me, aren’t you?”

  He tilts his head to the side and smiles, “Yes, I am and honestly, it feels like the first right decision I’ve made in a long time.” He opens the door and gets out. As he walks around the front of the car to my side, I roll down the window. It only goes down half way though since it started jamming a few weeks ago. He leans in through the opening the best he can and kisses me. “I’ll see you back at your place. Have fun and send my best to the parents.”

  “I will. Good luck, babe,” I reply, waving as I back up.

  I arrive at the restaurant a few minutes late and rush toward my parents who are already sitting at a table. “Sorry, I’m late,” I say, taking my hoodie off and sliding into the booth. We’ve been coming here since I was five. I love the gingerbread pancakes, so it’s always my pick for my birthday breakfast.

  “That’s alright, honey,” my mom says, smiling.

  My dad sighs, letting me know he has something on his mind, and then he says, “I hope you’re keeping your head on straight. Boys can be distracting. I don’t want you screwing up in your last year of school.”

  While perusing the menu, I roll my eyes. “Good morning, Father.” Yeah, I say it sarcastically, but whatever. “And Evan is not a distraction, so don’t worry.” He’s my focus. School’s the distraction. If I didn’t have to go to school, I could spend all my time in bed with Evan. The thought makes me smile.

  My dad is not amused this morning. Maybe breakfast was a bad idea. We order our food and my mother leans forward. “I think Evan is lovely. He’s so polite, too polite. I hate that he paid for dinner. That was entirely too generous.”

  My dad straightens his back and clears his throat. “I may not have seen the bill, but I can guess how much it was and I’m just wondering why he has access to that kind of money. He’s not a drug dealer, is he?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You know me better than that. You know I wouldn’t date a drug dealer.” I take my napkin, unfolding it slowly as if this is the most interesting thing in the world and doing my best not to get caught up in an Evan’s financial means conversation, so I try to put it to rest. “I’ve told you, his family has a lot of money.”

  “The boy is in his twenties and still living off his parents—”

  “Clay,” my mom says, touching his arm. “I’ve told you he’s working with his family this semester and transferring in Boulder next semester, so stop giving Mallory a hard time. She’s with a nice guy who, from watching him last night, clearly is in love with her.”

  My dad furrows his brow. “I thought he seemed a bit obsessive hanging on her every word—”

  Focused intensity. He’s always like that with me. I smile… like a stupidly, giddy smile.

  “Look, she’s in love too. Let’s just be happy for her,” my mom says, smiling at my dad. She leans closer and kisses him on the cheek.

  But when my dad is concerned about something, he fixates. “I hope you’re using protection. Don’t go messing up your life now.”

  “Oh my God, Dad. I’m, uh, so… just never going to talk about that with you,” I stammer, throwing my hands up into the air.

  “She’s twenty-two, Clay, and as much as we’re worried about her welfare, it’s really none of our business.”

  “You had her two years younger than she is now, Elise. I’m sure you don’t want her giving up her dreams—”

  “Dad! I’m being careful. Can we just please end this embarrassing conversation says the-mistake-my-parents-made-at-twenty?”

  “You were the best mistake we ever made, honey.” My mom, the eternal optimist.

  Thank God the food is delivered, ceasing this incredibly embarrassing topic of conversation. The rest of breakfast goes much smoother and I open my presents before we leave. I receive a new sweater, a gorgeous pair of pearl earrings, and they say they’ll pay my phone bill for three months. I totally score.

  They walk me to my car and my dad taps the hood, and says, “Let me know if your car gives you any trouble, okay?”

  “The window’s been jamming, but other than that, I don’t drive much since I walk to most of the places I need to get to.”

  “I’ll look at that window over Thanksgiving.” My dad looks around the parking lot with narrowed eyes. He’s got something on his mind. “Hey Mallory,” he starts saying when he looks back at me and shoves his hands into his coat pockets. “I can tell this relationship with Evan is getting pretty serious.” He steps closer and then hugs me.

  Wrapping my arms tightly around him, I hug him. “I love him, Dad.”

  “I can tell, but if you’re meant to be together, you will be. The distance won’t matter.”

  “You sound like mom,” I reply, enjoying the safety of my dad’s arms.

  “Yeah, well,” he
says, leaning back to look me in the eyes. “She might’ve started rubbing off on me after all these years.”

  “Break it up,” my mom says, squeezing her way into a group hug. “I want to give my birthday girl one more hug before we leave.”

  Tears well in my eyes, but I try to keep them from falling, knowing if I cry, my mom will too. “I love you both.”

  “We love you too, honey.”

  “Make us proud, Mallory,” my dad says, letting me go.

  “I will.”

  When we part, I yell, hoping they’ll hear me, “See you at Thanksgiving.”

  I drive back to the apartment to find Sarah packing a bag. She looks up and smiles. “Just stopping by to grab clothes and then I’ll be out of here again.”

  “No rush. It’s only me. Evan’s dealing with some stuff on campus and I just came from breakfast with my parents.”

  “It’s good you got to do your breakfast tradition.”

  I follow her into her bedroom and sit on the end of the bed, crossing my legs. “Yeah, it was nice and they got to meet Evan last night.”

  “Uh oh, how’d your dad like him?”

  “He likes him, but I think it’s hard for him to accept I’m grown up. He got in a few of his little threats like if you hurt my daughter… blah blah blah. You know, the usual.” We laugh. “Evan was definitely feeling the heat, worried about doing the wrong thing, stepping out of line or whatever, but he still had a good time.”

  “Are you worried about him getting out of line?” she asks, sitting down at her desk.

  “Not anymore. These last few weeks and this visit have proven how much he loves me. I trust him.”

  “Oh Mallory, I’m happy for you.” She gets up and hugs me. “After last year, I’m so glad you found Evan. He’s so in love with you.”

  “My mom said the same thing.”

  “It’s pretty obvious,” she adds, going back to packing her bag.

  My phone rings and I hurry to answer, hoping it’s Evan. “Hello?” I answer without looking at the caller ID. That is a mistake.

  “Mallory?”

  My heart sinks. I would know that cold, elitist voice anywhere. I don’t reply, not sure what to say.

  “Hello? Mallory Wray, are you there?”

  As if I still owe her some sort of respect, I respond, “Yes, Mrs. Ashford, I’m here.” I take a deep breath, stand up and retreat into my bedroom for privacy.

  “I know this may seem odd to hear from me, but I just found out about my son’s visit to Colorado. I hope he’s doing well.”

  It isn’t a question, but I feel the need to justify his happiness when he’s with me. “He’s very well.”

  “I don’t understand what he was thinking. He missed two days of work for this visit, but I’m sure you’re aware of that.”

  Like a trusting puppy, she lures me into revealing information that is really none of her business. “Evan surprised me for my birthday.”

  I don’t know what I expected. Maybe I thought this would make sense to her as it would to anyone else in the world… anyone with a heart. But I forgot, Evan’s mother doesn’t have a heart.

  “Oh,” she says, her tone remains emotionless. “I didn’t know it was your birthday. I would normally send my best wishes, but alas, this is not a social call, so we won’t waste time with petty occurrences in your life.”

  I remain silent, forgetting that I have the ability to hang up as she continues her verbal assault.

  “I’m going to be frank with you, Mallory. I want my son in New York permanently. He can finish his degree here and continue in the family business. Three generations have worked hard to make Ashford Holdings the success it is, and Evan will one day lead it to greater success.” She sighs as if she’s bored. But her words are stern, and I can tell she means every one of them. “With that success, Evan should marry an equal worthy of the Ashford name. Wray is sweet, but pedestrian. It’s entirely unnecessary for him to attach himself to someone that can’t uphold our family ideals. You live in a different world with different traditions and values. Your Mile High City charms won’t work here. I don’t know what he was thinking back in Hawaii, but he’s back in New York now, a place where Evan Theodore Monroe Ashford is revered and respected. He’s a catch not only amongst the best families in Manhattan, but across Europe as well. If you care for him at all, you will cut ties with him and let him live up to his potential. Don’t ruin his destiny. He can own this city if he chooses. He’s that talented.”

  “Mrs. Ashford—”

  “This isn’t a discussion or a request, Miss Wray. If you love him, you will put his needs before your own and won’t hold him back any longer. It’s going to be embarrassing and probably painful for you if you procrastinate any longer. Don’t worry though, he’ll most likely reflect fondly on the time you spent together.”

  I remember saying something similar to Evan the first time I met him at the airport about his past flings. The words strike my heart, making it hurt, that I’m relegated to a mere ‘fling’ status in her mind.

  Her voice starts fading away, her message already received loud and clear. I stay quiet, my heart broken, as she says, “And let’s be honest, I’m sure you’re just as surprised as I am that it’s lasted this long.” She exhales as if she’s relieved to get that off her chest, then concludes, sounding lighter. “Thank you and good luck with your studies.”

  She hangs up and I’m left there with a shattered soul, unable to think clearly.

  5

  Mallory

  “Mallory? Earth to Malllllory?” Sarah waves her hand in front of my face. “Hey there, welcome back. I’m off again. Josh is waiting down in the car for me.” She hugs me tightly and I go through the motions, but sit quietly in shock as she carries on. “You have fun with your man and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I nod, barely looking at her, still too caught up in the phone call, the threat, I just got from Evan’s mother. “Okay, bye,” I mumble.

  When she opens the door, I hear Evan, which snaps me to the present. I was hoping for a few minutes to collect my thoughts, but I’m not that lucky. “Hey, don’t rush off on my account.” I hear them speaking in the other room.

  I wipe at my eyes, where tears were starting to form.

  Sarah’s voice carries. “No, no. I was leaving already. You two have a good time. Hopefully I’ll see you later.”

  “Thanks again for helping me surprise Mallory.” I can hear the smile in his voice. He’s genuine and honest and I weaken just a bit. “Is she here?”

  “No problem, and yeah, she’s in her room.”

  The door closes and I hear the faintest sound of footsteps coming closer. I put on a fake smile, hoping to cover the damage the Wicked Witch has caused. It may be surface, but I don’t want to have any emotional conversations about his mother without processing her words first. I shouldn’t give her even a second of my thoughts, but she comes from a place of protecting her son and I don’t take that lightly. Even though my instant reaction is to prove her wrong, I don’t want to make us about that. As soon as he rounds the corner, I put on a smile and say, “I gave you a key to use—”

  “I didn’t want to barge in, just in case Sarah was home.”

  I stand to greet him, wrapping my arms around his middle, and resting my cheek on his chest, effectively hiding my face. “How’d it go today?”

  “Really well.”

  “Yeah?” Leaning back to look at him, I raise my eyebrows, hoping he opens up more. “You want to talk about it?”

  He leads me to the bed and we both sit down, making ourselves comfortable. “I’m in.”

  I’m trying to decipher his quick, but casual response, but the two words seem too simple. It can’t be that easy. Can it? “You mean you’re in in?”

  “As of January seventh I’m officially a Buffalo.” He leans forward, taking my hands in his, and says, “Do you think you can handle me being around all the time?”

  His mothers’ words begin taunti
ng me as they roll over in my head playing on repeat. I look away from what feels like his too direct of a stare and state, “Evan, please never doubt my intentions. I hope that you trust I’m being honest with you when I say that I want you here with me.”

  Two fingers grace my chin and he turns my head to face him again. His tone is soft and gentle as a smile toys with the sides of his mouth. “I do believe you. Thank you.” I watch his lips, still not allowing myself to look into his eyes. He kisses the end of my nose.

  Guilt sets in, rumbling my stomach. “You’re making so many sacrifices. I wish I could do the same for you,” I utter the words that are becoming the bane of our existence. With us, the imbalance of what we can give always tips the scales in his favor, making me feel bad.

  He doesn’t hesitate. The strong-willed, confident, surfer I met last summer emerges determined. “You’ve given me life, Mallory. What I’ve given you pales in comparison. I owe you everything.” He pulls me over to sit on his lap. “I love you so much. Moving to be near you comes from a purely selfish place. Believe me when I say that, so don’t go nominating me for sainthood just yet.”

  I relax, resting my head on his shoulder. “I can’t wait for you to be here.”

  “It’s gonna be tough going back to New York when my heart is here with you. Hey,” he says, looking at the window. “It’s still early. You want to go house hunting with me?”

  “A house? You want to get a house?” I ask, sitting straight up, astonished once again by how he seems to have the world at his disposal.

  “I’m not sure. I think I’d prefer an apartment, something close to you, but I’ll look and see what I like.”

  “You’re so sweet, and by the way, have I told you lately how much I love you?”

  “No, tell me,” he smirks.

  “I love you, Evan Ashford.” There’s a definite neediness building inside of me, all signs of playfulness evaporated from my lowered voice. I need him to know how much I love him, to feel my love. I need that love to be strong enough to bring him back and fight for all that’s good and honest in this crazy situation.