So This is Love (Miami Stories Book 1)

by Brooke St. James

  After a little while, a woman named Katherine came up to talk to Ash. She introduced herself to me as the coordinator of the benefit. She said they were about to announce that dinner would be served in ten minutes, and asked Ash if he would make his way to the photo backdrop near the entrance so she could get a picture of him with the other members of the quartet. Ash asked if he should go find them, and she informed him that they were already waiting on him.

  He smiled and reached for my hand. He held onto me as we walked out of the auction room and through the ballroom. I realized that I hadn't even looked at a single item that was up for auction. I had no idea what they were selling. The thought made me glance back, toward the room. It was then that I happened to notice Claudia, along with a few others sitting at our table. I deduced that they were the spouses or significant others of the other band members.

  "I can just wait at the table," I said, not wanting to be in the way once we got over there.

  Ash glanced at me with a questioning look as if wondering why I would offer such a thing.

  It made me smile. "Manny's wife is over there," I said. "I could just wait with her."

  "How do you know Manny?"

  "We met when I first got here," I said.

  "Did you meet Becky and Andre?"

  I shook my head. "Just Manny. He said he plays bass."

  Ash nodded, but he didn't let go of my hand. He continued walking, leading me toward the front.

  There were still quite a lot of people in the photo room when we got there, but Katherine, who had walked ahead of us, saw Ash and motioned him over to the backdrop where the three other band members were standing.

  "I'll wait right here," I said, stopping in a comfortable little nook that was out of the way.

  "You sure?" Ash asked.

  I nodded. "I'm comfortable here."

  "I'd like to take a picture with you," he said. "When I'm done with the quartet."

  "We can," I said, "I'll meet you over there."

  "Okay," he agreed, letting me go.

  Ash was barely three steps away when I saw a flash of movement on my right. She had come out of nowhere. Marilyn Monroe. Maybe she was a younger Susan Sarandon. Either way, she was really blonde, really gorgeous, and really bare-chested. I couldn't help but glance at her dress and the plunging neckline. She had on a delicate, teardrop diamond necklace that hung in just the right spot to draw your eye to her exposed chest. I obviously had no interest in looking at a woman's chest, and even I glanced at it. She looked like she had taken centuries to get ready—not a single hair was out of place and her lipstick was the exact same color as her dress. I didn't feel like myself wearing red lipstick and had gone for a sheer gloss that evening. I stared at her lips, thinking she really pulled it off. Who was this woman, anyway? She smelled like expensive perfume and looked like an ad for a dress designer.

  I smiled at her.

  "Hello," she said, holding out her hand for me to shake.

  "Hello, I returned.

  "Fiona Wilkinson," she said.

  "Abigail Spencer."

  "Oh, Ash has told me about you," she said, nodding.

  Instantly, I was taken aback.

  She called him Ash.

  Everyone, except for Manny and Claudia, had been addressing him as Ashley that evening, and here was this vixen calling him Ash. I shot her a curious glance that might have been laced with a little annoyance. She was smiling and being passive about it, but I could tell already that she was trying to get under my skin. I sincerely almost said something to the effect of, "He hasn't told me anything about you," but I reconsidered it at the last possible second and decided to keep quiet. I considered a few other options, like small talk about the event or the fact that we both wore red, but ultimately, I didn't want to talk to her. "It was nice meeting you," I said, hoping she would walk away.

  "I know Ash from New York," she said. "I've seen him play more than fifty times."

  "Oh," I said, nodding and widening my eyes a little.

  "We've known each other a long time," she said. "We sort of had a thing."

  "Huh," I said, making a noise that told her I thought what she was saying was interesting without saying any actual words.

  "He's gone through a lot of women like you, you know."

  I swallowed hard.

  Did she actually just say that?

  I could feel blood rise to my face, but I just stared straight ahead. I could see Ash from where I was standing, but he was preoccupied with posing for the picture. I didn't say a thing in response to her comment. I was afraid my voice would come out shaky or I would say something silly or mean, so I remained quiet.

  "I bet you've only been seeing him for a little while," she said. "You girls never last more than a few months. He'll have a little fun with you, and then he'll leave. He's already married. To the cello."

  "Okay, thanks," I said, still not looking at her.

  "Thanks for what?" she asked. "Telling you the truth? You're welcome. He's obsessed with his instrument," she said. "You'll see. He loves no woman like he loves his career. He doesn't have time for both. Believe me, sweetie, you're temporary. He might date you for a few months, but I assure you, it will end just like all the others. I've seen at least ten just like you. Cute little innocent women not suspecting of heartbreak."

  My blood was officially boiling. I was beginning to sweat and feel nauseous. Her sugary-sweet voice made my ears ring, and the words it delivered were like venom. I did not look at her. I felt like I might burst out in tears.

  "Okay," I said. "Thanks for the heads up."

  My voice was unsteady. I didn't care. I had to say something to get her to leave me alone. Thankfully, the musicians finished their photograph, giving me an excuse to walk away. I did so without saying another word to Fiona. How could someone so beautiful spew such hurtful words out of her mouth? Maybe she wasn't meaning to be hurtful. Maybe she was telling the truth. Maybe it was an honest-to-goodness fair warning. Either way, I was heartbroken and sick to my stomach over it.

  The group had just moved to the side of the backdrop, and Katherine was waiting there to talk to them. Ash smiled broadly when he saw me approaching, and I smiled back, trying to seem unaffected by the conversation I just had.

  Katherine was saying something about dinner and the plan for the quartet to begin playing just before dessert service, but it was difficult for me to focus on any of it. Thoughts of the last few minutes swirled around in my head, making me feel dizzy. Before I knew it, everyone was moving like they were about to walk away. Ash reached out and took me by the waist.

  "Abigail and I were thinking of having our picture taken," he said to Katherine.

  She doubled back, giving us a confused expression. "Did you not do it already?"

  Ash shook his head.

  "Michael!" she called, hollering at one of the photographer's assistants. "These two haven't been photographed yet. Go ahead and work them in right now."

  Michael nodded, looking eager and willing to do whatever Katherine requested.

  "We'll be at the table," Manny said.

  This caused me to glance at him. He was standing in a group with the two others in the quartet, a man and a lady. The lady smiled and waved at me when she saw me look that way.

  "I'm Becky," she said, speaking loudly over the commotion. She glanced at Michael who came up next to us, ready to usher us to the backdrop "We'll have the chance to catch up at the table," she added with a wave.

  I nodded, and before I knew it, we were whisked away to have our picture taken. I felt like it was prom all over again. They put us in two different positions, and we smiled as lights flashed. Ash took me by the hand. I tried to enjoy how it felt, but I was afraid to let myself—afraid to get too attached for fear that I would just lose him. I thought about the last month—the way we had been taking things so slowly as we got to know each other. I had to wonder if he was intentionally keeping his distance. Technically, nothing had changed between Ash a
nd me, but my heart still felt broken.

  I glanced around as we left the photo room, headed for the ballroom, but Marilyn Monroe was nowhere to be found. "I saw you talking to Fiona," Ash said, reading my mind.

  I looked at him and gave him a smile that was laced with regret.

  "What'd she say?" he asked.

  "Nothing really," I said, lying. "Just that she's seen you play a bunch of times." He let out a humorless laugh but otherwise didn’t remark as we headed across the ballroom toward our table. Several people stopped Ash to shake his hand, but the interactions were so brief that no official introductions were made. I was so torn up about what the blonde had said that I couldn't think straight until I got it off my chest.

  "She said she's seen you go through a bunch of girls like me," I said.

  Ash stopped, right there in the middle of the aisle, and turned to focus intently on me. "What did you say?" he asked.

  "Fiona," I said, half-regretting bringing it up.

  Ash was so intense as he stared at me that I was actually a little afraid of what he might do once I repeated what she said.

  "She said she's seen you go through a bunch of girls just like me and that it wouldn’t last more than a few months. She said you were married to…" I hesitated. I couldn’t get the last part of the sentence out. I felt terrible for bringing it up in the first place.

  "Married to who?" he asked, looking increasingly agitated.

  I shook my head. "Not to someone, just your instrument. Your cello. It's stupid. I'm sorry for bringing it up. I know you need to focus on playing."

  Chapter 17

  Ash and I had been on our way to the table when I told him what Fiona said to me, and now we were stopped in the middle of ballroom floor. The room was growing more and more crowded as people made their way to their tables for dinner. Some were already seated while others were standing or walking around. I could see them out of the corner of my eye. I took in the moving and shifting, but I didn't pay attention to them or take my eyes off of Ash.

  His focus was fixed on me. He placed his hands on the sides of my face. He was trembling with restrained anger. I could tell how mad he was, yet he was holding me gently and staring into my eyes with the utmost sincerity. I glanced at his eyes, but it was hard for me to hold his gaze because I was frustrated with myself for bringing it up. I hated that there was drama on a night when he had to play. My gaze drifted to his cheek, his chin, the air next to his face—anywhere but into his eyes.

  "Abigail," he whispered. "Look at me."

  I obeyed him, feeling overwhelmed as my eyes met his. They were shimmering under the lights, all sorts of golden brown tones—amber, tobacco, whiskey, and wood. He was so very sweet and concerned with my happiness. I blinked, trying to hold back tears.

  "I'm sorry," I said. "I really shouldn't have brought it up."

  "I'm glad you brought it up," he said. "I'm glad you told me. I'm going to take care of it, I promise."

  I shook my head instantly. He was still holding my face in his hands, and his grip tightened ever so slightly as I shook my head.

  "Don't feel bad," he said. "I want you to tell me these things."

  "I know, but it's bad timing," I said, glancing around at the gigantic room full of people.

  "It's perfect timing," he said. He smiled at me. "I love you, Abigail," he said calmly, causing my chest to tighten. My jaw ached with the pain of unshed tears and my vision blurred as tears rose to my eyes. Ash brought his mouth to my face and placed a kiss on my cheek before pulling back to stare at me again. "I'm actually grateful to her for making this moment happen because now I can tell you the truth. She was right. There had been others before you—others that didn't last. The reason they didn’t last, Abigail, is that they weren't you. I didn't love them. I haven't loved until you. You are the first."

  I blinked and a silent tear fell onto my cheek. Ash put his face next to mine so that he could speak near my ear.

  "The truth is, I would leave it all for you," he said. "If I had to choose between you and music, I'd choose you. I'd leave this place right now if you asked me to."

  He was standing ever so close and speaking directly into my ear. I took a shaky breath as I wrapped my hand around his side, pulling him closer. I stretched upward to whisper back to him, feeling shaken as my mouth brushed his ear.

  "I would never ask you to quit," I said.

  "You've never even heard me play," he said, teasing me, and causing me to laugh a little.

  "Yeah, but I would still never ask you to stop."

  "I know you wouldn't," he said, squeezing me.

  It was time for us to move out of the aisle and find our seats. Ash held my hand as we walked the remaining distance. Fiona was sitting near us, at the front. There was a table separating hers from ours, but she was close enough that we both noticed her.

  "Would you like me to talk to her?" Ash asked.

  I shook my head. He was more than willing to do it for me, but I honestly didn't feel like it was worth it. I believed that Ash was telling me the truth, and that was all that mattered.

  He pulled out my chair for me as we got to the table. I knew introductions would begin as soon as we sat down, so I had to squeeze in one last statement before I took my seat. I looked over my shoulder at him as I moved around the chair. "And I love you too," I said quietly with a little smile.

  Ash turned his ear to me with a curious look on his face as if asking me to repeat what I said.

  "I love you too," I said.

  He smiled and gave me a nod. "I heard you the first time," he said.

  I grinned, rolling my eyes at him. My eyes were still burning a little bit, but it was a good burn, a happy burn. Ash loved me—he said it himself. And he really meant it; I could see the pure honesty in his expression.

  "You must be Abigail," the lady sitting next to me said once I sat down.

  "I am," I said, smiling as I shifted to look at her. It was the woman I had met briefly in the photo room. She had on a conservative black dress, and her shoulder length hair was worn down in a neat, straight style with bangs. She looked to be in her forties, but I was terrible with ages, so I couldn’t be certain. I held out a hand to shake hers, and she gladly returned the gesture.

  "Becky Morrison," she said. "And this is my husband, Jim." She leaned back to motion toward the man next to her who reached out to shake my hand.

  I usually didn't like making obvious jokes when I first met someone, but I couldn't resist with this one. "I never thought I would get to meet Jim Morrison," I said, making an obvious reference to the long-deceased lead singer of The Doors.

  Jim smiled and gave me a little bow. "I'm all about making dreams come true," he said.

  I focused on Becky again. "Are you playing tonight with Ash?" I asked even though I was sure I knew the answer. Ash had talked to me about Becky before. He really enjoyed playing with her.

  She nodded. "I play piano," she said. "Ashley and I are playing a few duets this season, and it's been a real treat getting to know him and play with him."

  I was about to tell her that Ash felt the same way when Jim spoke up.

  "She goes on and on about how talented you are," Jim said, leaning over to speak to Ash.

  "It's an honor to play with her," Ash said to Jim. "Really, she's amazing."

  Jim lifted his chin and puffed his chest proudly, causing Becky to slap his leg.

  There were ten of us sitting around the table. The four members of the quartet and their dates, along with the current head of the symphony, a man named Henry, and his wife. There were a couple of short speeches and announcements during our meal, but otherwise, we shared cordial conversation with the people sitting at our table while background music played.

  Andre, the violinist, was an avid fisherman, and Manny was into it some, too. Ash told them I was a marine biologist and explained how we had met. He even told them the story of me filleting Grouper for a cheering crowd during that first weekend we spent together. He
and Becky spent more time together than the others, and he had already told her the whole story, which made me feel all warm and fuzzy.

  Andre said he would go fishing sometime and invite us over so he could witness my skills for himself, and by the end of the conversation, the whole table was planning a get-together.

  Our table was huge, and the chairs were separated by a couple of feet of space, but Ash inched my chair closer to his the whole time we were eating and talking. Before I realized what had happened, we were right next to each other, and his leg was touching mine. He finished eating before I did, and he wrapped his arm protectively around my shoulders. He made conversation with those sitting around the table, but his body language showed that he was devoted to making me feel comfortable and showing me he wanted me as close to him as possible. Periodically, during our conversation, he would just reach over and kiss me on the cheek for no reason at all.

  Katherine came over to our table as dinner was wrapping up and asked that the musicians make their way backstage. Ash shifted to get out of his chair, but he paused and patted my leg, kissing my cheek again.

  "It's great that we're playing for this charity and everything," he said. "I know it's a good cause, but I just wanted you to know I'll be playing for you up there. Just know that. I'll be thinking of you when I play."

  I squeezed his leg under the table. "I'll be thinking of you while I'm watching," I said.

  He kissed me again. The other members of the quartet had already taken off, but Ash was unapologetic about stopping to show me affection. "I better go," he whispered.

  "I know," I said, feeling quite certain that everyone had noticed his inability to leave me. "Go."

  Without another word, he walked away, headed toward stage left. Six of us remained at the table once the musicians left. Claudia came around to my side to sit next to me, taking Ash's spot since he had a better view of the stage. "I hope you don't mind," she said as she settled in.

  "Of course not," I said.

  The others followed her lead, shifting around and turning their chairs so they could all look at the stage. The emcee made an announcement, thanking one of St. Jude's most generous donors. The couple was sitting at the table next to us, and he asked them to stand so that everyone could acknowledge them.