by Shay Savage
“Your dad liked his father’s chain of pet food stores,” Presley said. “He was an up-and-coming businessman who was about to hit his first million. Your dad wanted his business, and Cole only treated you like shit when he thought no one else was looking.”
I knew she was right on that one.
“It’s not like he beat me or anything,” I muttered. I rubbed my tongue over the tiny scar on my lip as the bitter, brief memory flashed through my mind.
I didn’t want to defend Cole. It had happened so fast, and I think he had been as shocked as I. He apologized for it once he saw that I was bleeding. Regardless of that transgression, he consistently treated me like shit, and he was an asshole. I figured it out before it went too far.
“He just yelled at me whenever something went wrong in his life,” I said, “as if it was my fault or something.”
“Just because a guy doesn’t lay a hand on you doesn’t mean he’s not abusive.”
“Yeah, I know.” It was an old conversation and one I didn’t want to have again. Presley didn’t know about the time he hit me. I caught him with another woman and left him shortly after that, and then he moved out of state. I never even heard from him after I told him it was over. “Isn’t Isaac dating some undergrad now?”
“They went out twice, but he wasn’t feeling it. She seemed sweet enough, but she had to work to put herself through school. Not our usual crowd.”
I held back a smile when my diversion worked, but then my chest tightened when I realized it was the same tactic Ethan used when he didn’t want to continue a topic. His face flashed through my mind, complete with a radiant smile.
“Is he the reason you’re dodging your text messages?”
“Who?” I blinked a couple of times.
“Isaac, you dork. Who else are you thinking about?”
“I’m not dodging anything.”
“Bullshit.”
“There’s that mouth again.”
Presley laughed.
“Are you girls done gossiping?” Vanessa appeared in my doorway, tapping her foot. “Ashlyn, my darling, your father is looking for you.”
“I’ll be right down.”
I found Dad on the patio with some of the board members I saw on Friday. We exchanged some pleasantries before they left my father and me on our own.
“I’m sorry, Ash baby,” Dad said, “but I have to bail on golf today. Vanessa is planning another big party, and she insisted I had to help her this afternoon.”
“No problem, Dad. I really have a lot to do anyway. We can go next weekend instead.”
“Great!”
We hobnobbed with a few more company people, and I basically went through the motions until the luncheon ended. I hung around just long enough not to attract attention and then said my goodbyes and made my escape.
It wasn’t that I didn’t like Vanessa’s Sunday luncheons—I did. They were a fabulous excuse to buy clothes and get dressed up, meet a lot of important people, and eat fantastic food. When I was younger, Vanessa would have me wear long white gloves with my dress and carry a tiny purse. The only things inside of it were lip gloss and my library card, but it made me feel very grown up. Vanessa would dote on me and tell me how fancy I looked. She paid far more attention to me on Sunday mornings than my own mother did in an entire year.
Today, however, I was distracted and just ready to get out of there.
“See you after class tomorrow!” Presley called as she slid into her BMW. She waved as she drove off, and I headed home.
Once I was alone in my apartment again, I finally looked at my phone. There were eight unread text messages and one voice mail. Six of the texts were from Presley the night before, demanding to know why I wasn’t at the club. One was from Zoey, apologizing for not being able to make today’s luncheon due to a rescheduled hair and nail appointment, which was Zoey-code for “got laid last night”.
The last text and the voicemail were from Ethan. I listened to the voicemail first, but it simply said, “What happened? Please call me back.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before checking his text.
Of course, there wasn’t an actual text message. Instead, there was a video clip. I could see Ethan’s face taking up the screen with the little arrow button in the center so I could watch it.
I took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and then pressed play.
Chapter 13—Heartache
I stared at the screen as Ethan looked into the camera with a tight, unnatural smile.
“Hi, Ashlyn,” Ethan said. He paused, ran his hand through his hair, glared off to the side for a moment, and then turned back toward the camera. “I don’t know what happened. I thought everything was going so well, but then you left. I think you got scared, but I don’t know what I did that scared you. Or is it just the age thing? I don’t give a shit about that. It’s just a number, right? Whatever the problem is, please…please tell me. If I just know, then I can try to fix it.”
My eyes burned as I watched his pained image on the screen. When he spoke again, his voice cracked a little.
“I just wanted you around. Just a little longer. Well, no—a lot longer, but I’d settle for whatever you’re willing to give me. But I want a lot. I know I want to spend a lot of time with you.”
He looked down. I watched his chest rise and fall a few times as he found his words and looked back up, speaking quickly.
“Is it because I talked too much? I told you all kinds of shit about me, but I didn’t ask you much about yourself. I know who your dad is, but I didn’t ask about your mom or your friends or what kinds of questions they asked you in your interview. That was kinda assholish of me. I should have asked about you more. When I get nervous—and you’re so pretty and sophisticated and smart, I was nervous—I babble. I know I do; I’ve been told that before. Is that why you left? Did I just talk too much? If it is, and you come back, I promise I won’t say anything. I’ll put duct tape over my mouth and just listen to whatever you want to tell me. Shit.”
He stopped talking, looked away again, and ran both hands through his hair, tugging at the roots as he leaned forward a little.
“That sounded so weird and creepy. I’m even fucking up the apology.” He took another deep breath. “I don’t want to seem any more creepy than I probably already do. Please, please call me back. I was looking forward to hearing you read more of that book. If you don’t want to read anymore, that’s okay, too. I just need to know…just tell me how I fucked up so I won’t do it again. If you decide you don’t want to…well, I won’t like it, but I’ll respect it. If I don’t hear from you, I guess I know the answer. I won’t bug you again or anything.”
He licked his lips and then looked straight into the camera.
“I hope you’ll call back. I really like you, Ashlyn, and I miss you already.”
I sniffed and cleared my dry throat.
For a moment, it wasn’t Ethan who invaded my thoughts but Cole and the last conversation I ever had with him.
“What the fuck are you talking about, Ash?”
“You heard what I said,” I replied in a quiet voice. I hadn’t been able to meet his eyes. “I’m moving back in with Presley. This just isn’t working out between us.”
“You know, I never would have fucked her if you had actually spent some time here instead of in your fucking study groups. I don’t know why you even bother. Daddy’s already got your job lined up for you. Once we’re married, you can have tea parties and bust out children for fuck’s sake. You don’t need a damn graduate degree.”
I wanted to scream at him. He was the one who was caught cheating on me, not the other way around. I wanted to tell him how wrong he was and what a jerk he was, but the words refused to form in my mouth. Anything I said would have been pointless anyway. It would change nothing.
“I’m leaving, Cole.”
“You’ll be back.”
Ethan was about as different from Cole as any human being could possibly be. He was sweet and
kind. He set out towels for me and made me breakfast. He discussed books and movies with me, but it was all right when we disagreed. He never once called my opinions stupid or just plain wrong, which was more Cole’s style. Walking out on him was my fault—he had done nothing wrong—but he didn’t yell at me. Instead, he actually videotaped an apology even though the whole thing was my fault.
“Who does that kind of thing, anyway?”
The conversation I had with Presley about Isaac and Cole came back to me. I considered my reasons for ending those relationships.
Isaac had been a difficult decision, not because I wasn’t sure it should end, but because I knew it was going to hurt his feelings. He came from a decent, upper middle class family, which was just barely okay in my father’s eyes, but he had a lot of ambition. I’d known him most of my life, and he was comfortable. The problem was, that was all there was to our relationship. He was safe and…boring. I never loved him, and when I realized how much in love with me he was, I had to break it off before it went any further. We had remained friends, but I often felt just a twinge of tension between us.
Cole had been the complete opposite of Isaac. My father was thrilled when we began to date. Cole’s family was a prominent name in local society, and they promised to expand their businesses and ultimately make my father’s company more money. Cole was exciting and just a little dangerous. He rode a motorcycle and liked to go deep-sea fishing and skydiving. He was attractive, protective, and insanely jealous of anyone else around me. Just being around him had been thrilling, in the beginning at least. When his temper tantrums began to be directed at me, the shine wore off. The first time he went off on me in public, my friends began to encourage me to get away from him, but I didn’t listen, not for a long time. Eventually, it was all too much. The night I left, there was a moment when I believed he was going to punch me.
Presley referred to Cole as my “bad boy phase” and claimed we all had to go through it. When Dad heard about my breakup, he tried to convince me to reconsider. I never told him about Cole’s anger issues, and Dad continued to push the issue until Cole left town.
Ethan was completely different from both Isaac and Cole.
I took a deep breath and watched the video message again. My heart ached at Ethan’s pained expression and heartfelt words. I’d hurt him. Not only that, but I’d also hurt myself.
Why?
Tattoos, bicycle, and age. Suddenly, all of my reasons for leaving sounded stupid and vain. It all came down to how my family and friends would react to him.
My phone rang just as the video was ending, and for a moment, my heart stopped, sure it was Ethan calling again. It wasn’t. It was only Presley.
“You need a drink,” she said without a hello.
“I do.”
“Yep. I’m just outside our building. Let’s go.”
I sighed. Escape was impossible, so I grabbed my purse and met her downstairs.
“You are distracted,” Presley said. “What’s going on?”
“Just finals and shit.” I looked out the window of Presley’s BMW, avoiding eye contact. It didn’t work.
“You are a terrible liar,” she said. “Why are you being secretive? Is it a guy?”
“You always think it’s a guy,” I said. “When I have a cold, it’s a guy. When the moon is full, it’s a guy. When I’m PMSing, it’s a guy. When I bomb a test, it’s a guy—”
“You’ve never bombed a test. How about when you make up shit about bombing tests, it’s a guy?”
I laughed.
“Maybe you are the one who met a guy, and you’re trying to divert attention from yourself in order to avoid an inquisition. Who is he, Presley? Is he a vagrant wanderer you met by the train tracks? Or maybe a rock star?”
“You are ridiculous!” Presley laughed as she pulled her car up to the Club Mania valet.
At least she dropped the subject.
“Margaritas,” Presley said to the bartender as we sat down, “on the rocks with salt. Use the Don Julio.”
“You got it.” The bartender flashed a toothy smile as he started mixing the drinks.
“You better get me one, too!” Zoey grabbed the barstool beside me, yanked it back a foot, and plopped herself down, hitting the side of my face with her long, highlighted curls. “This was one hell of a weekend!”
She was dressed in a short, red cocktail dress and covered in gold jewelry from Tiffany’s. Zoey was a trust fund baby and hadn’t even bothered with going further than her bachelor’s degree in human resources. She had no intention of working right away and continued to lead the collegiate life without the actual classes.
“Where have you been?” Presley asked. “You disappeared Friday night, and I never heard from you again.”
“Well,” Zoey said as she waved down the bartender, “that’s because I didn’t leave that guy’s hotel room until this morning.”
I shook my head as Zoey ordered a vodka tonic and leaned back on the stool, smiling broadly.
“Which one?” Presley asked. “There was that dark-haired guy with the intense eyes and the blond one in the suit jacket. Which one did you go home with?”
“Well, that’s the interesting bit,” Zoey said.
The bartender placed our drinks in front of us, and I licked the salt from the edge of the glass before taking a quick drink. Zoey watched his backside until he was out of earshot and then turned back to Presley and me.
“Bucket list item checked!” Zoey held her drink high in the air before taking a sip. “Two guys at once!”
“You are not right,” Presley said.
“What I am,” Zoey said, “is a well-adjusted woman who isn’t afraid to express herself sexually.”
Presley demanded details of Zoey’s weekend encounter, and I zoned out as Ethan’s video message played through my memory. The more I thought about it, the more my heart sank. I pushed my drink a little ways away from me and checked my phone, but there weren’t any more messages from Ethan.
“…then they switched off, and the blond guy—”
“I can’t hear any more of this,” I said with a chuckle. I pushed my stool back. “I’m going to the ladies’ room. Zoey, be done before I get out.”
Presley and Zoey both laughed as I walked away.
In the bathroom, I checked the stalls to make sure I was alone before I watched Ethan’s video again. When it was over, I stared at my face in the mirror for a moment. I considered calling him, but if I were to stay in here too long, Presley would come looking for me as soon as Zoey finished her story.
Shoving the phone back in my purse, I washed my hands and headed back to the bar.
“What are you going to do if your daddy ever finds out about your exploits?” Presley asked Zoey.
“Confess?” Zoey shrugged and took a drink of her vodka. “I’m not ashamed of it. I doubt he’d really want to know the details, and he shouldn’t really care until I actually find someone I want to bring to holiday dinners. I don’t see that happening any time soon.”
My mind conjured up a fantasy of Ethan sitting at my father’s table on Christmas Eve, twiddling the rings in his lip as Dad carved the ham. The scene was too ridiculous to consider, so instead, I thought of just Ethan and me in his apartment in front of a grand Christmas tree on Christmas morning. I saw Ethan smile as he turned over a small, wrapped box before leaning over and kissing my cheek.
The image was a comfortable one. It felt safe, secure, and right. In my heart, I knew he would be grateful even if he hated the gift itself. He would probably even tell me he hated it, and then would laugh, kiss me, and tell me how glad he was that I was there with him.
Yes, he had tattoos. He had piercings. He had—for heaven’s sake—brain damage. My father would love his money and family name but would never get past his appearance. My friends would think he was hot but never get past the age difference.
And none of that shit mattered, because it was Ethan.
“What are you smiling about?
” Presley asked. She narrowed her eyes at me.
“I have to go,” I said. I stood up, grabbed my purse, and headed toward the door.
“I’m your ride!” Presley called out, reminding me.
“I’ll get a cab!” I called back. “I owe you for the drink!”
I flagged down a nearby taxi to take me back to my place, jumped into my own car, and headed straight for Ethan’s apartment.
Chapter 14—Escalate
I hadn’t really thought this through.
Without Ethan’s keycard, I couldn’t enter the parking garage. I drove around the block a couple of times, trying to decide what I should do.
“I should have called first, obviously,” I muttered to myself.
I didn’t even know if Ethan would be at his penthouse apartment. He’d told me he didn’t spend much time there. If he was home, I had no way of knowing if he would be alone, considering he had Josh Frazier living there at least part of the time. He’d been upset, and he could have decided to join his friends in the slums to help cheer him up. What would he tell them about me?
I hadn’t thought about that either.
What if, at this point, he was angry with me and didn’t want me to come back? I hadn’t responded to him last night or all day today. He’d had plenty of time to go rescue some other girl in heels who needed a ride.
No, Ethan wasn’t like that. Just because I’d been burned by Cole didn’t mean Ethan would do the same thing. Ethan was nothing like Cole.
I slowed down in front of the Marquis Apartment complex, wondering if they had a valet available. My building didn’t, but this place just might. There wasn’t any kind of valet stand that I could see though I did notice a doorman next to the entrance, speaking with a resident. I rolled down the window to call out to him when someone else appeared by the driver’s side window.
“Ashlyn, right?” Josh Frazier leaned over and smiled as he looked in at me.
“Um, yes, that’s right,” I said, stammering a bit. “Good to see you again, Josh.”
“Are you here to see Ethan?”
“Well, yes, but I wasn’t sure where I should park.”
