Page 41 of From Asher, With Love

“Are you kidding me?”

“No.” He’s straight-faced, not a single hint of coyness in his expression. “This place is perfect for your expansion.”

“In what way?” I ask, still shocked how he could even entertain showing me a place so far out of my budget.

“With a little updating, it’s a possibility.”

“You are such a hypocrite.” I shake my head, crossing my arms over my chest.

“How am I a hypocrite? I promised I would show you places within reason. This one is within reason.” His eyes have transformed, sparking under the dull lights of the room.

“Four hundred thousand over my budget is within reason? You called out Cyrus for only sending me listings over my budget, and here you are doing the same thing.” I point at him, heat expanding across my chest. My throat suddenly feels dry, and I wish I had a glass of water. Although if I had a glass of water, it could be splashed across the front of Asher’s thousand-dollar black suit instead.

“First,” he starts, “I am not the same as Cyrus.” His voice is strained, the veins in his neck beginning to swell. His smooth cheeks flush red, and his forehead creases with his brewing anger. “Cyrus sends listings you have no chance of negotiating on with any seller. The prices are so far apart, there is no meeting in the middle.” Asher steps closer to me. He keeps his distance, but I can feel the heat radiating off his body. “Second, it’s four hundred thousand dollars, Charleigh. A drop in the bucket when it comes to New York. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal when it’smymoney, Asher—when it’smybusiness.” I thumb my own chest.

“Four hundred thousand is a reasonable amount to begin negotiations,” Asher counters. “Cyrus is sending you listings at least that or more over your budget. Now, if you ask me, that’s more difficult to negotiate. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“That’s not the point.” I shake my head again, frustrated. “Four hundred thousand is still a high number. Even if the seller decides to budge a little in price, that changes my monthly payments quite a bit.”

“I don’t understand why it’s an issue.”

I laugh hysterically in disbelief, resting my hands on my hips. “Now that you have all the money in the world, nearly half a million dollars may not be an issue to you, but for me, how could it not be? I told you from the start that my budget was my biggest concern. I’m taking a leap of faith with this expansion and hiring you as my realtor. I need the right place, Asher, but I also can’t afford to overspend.”

He shrugs, breaking his gaze away from mine as he shoves his hands into his pockets and blankly stares at the wall behind me. “You’re telling me there is no room for you to consider places even slightly over your budget?”

“No,” I say firmly, clenching my teeth. “I have no room.” My vision turns red. The entire day comes crashing down on me, the last domino toppling over. I can tell Asher is purposely digging his way under my skin. I’m unsure if it’s because of the near kiss we shared back at my apartment or if he’s fishing for information. Probably both.

“What about your dad?”

My eyes narrow, and my throat burns from the inside out, shocked by his question. Blood immediately drains from my face. “What about him?”

“I don’t know.” Asher shrugs, his mouth turning down. “If you can’t afford it, maybe he can pay the difference.”

Tears well in my eyes. Anger bubbles inmy chest and I force myself not to allow Asher to see how him mentioning my father has brought out a piece of myself I choose to keep buried.

“What makes you think that, huh?” My poison-laced words drip from my tongue. “He has all the money in the world, so he must be able to help me, right?” A tear spills from my eye, sliding its way down my cheek. It lands on my chest as I stare at Asher from across the room.

His eyes meet mine again. They’re vacant and empty. “Well, he did pay for your tuition at NYU, didn’t he? This shouldn’t be a problem for him.”

Another tear spills as I clench my hands into fists at my sides. He’s struck a nerve. Fury burns crimson red in my heated stare. My jaw tightens, and the muscles in my body swell.

“You know what, Asher?Fuck you.” I let my feet carry me out of the building, and I rush past Asher’s car, ignoring his driver holding the door open for me. I don’t even bother waving down a cab. I don’t want to give Asher a chance to catch me outside, accusing me of using my father’s money whenever it suits me.

He doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t deserve to know since he was the one who left.

I walk the next few blocks fighting back tears. My father never lived up to the promises he made before our lives changed. Neither did Asher. And I’m nothing but a fool for thinking otherwise.

TWELVE

ASHER

December 24, 2014

“I told you I would pick all that shit up later.” My mom stumbles into the kitchen, sliding herself onto one of the kitchen chairs. Her hair is a tangled mess, and her makeup is smeared under her eyes. It looks like she got into a fight with a toaster while in the bathtub.

“It’s fine. I got it.” I roll my eyes and open another trash bag. I pick up an empty vodka bottle, along with a few half-empty beer bottles, and pour the stale liquid down the drain before tossing them in the bag with the other empties. They all fall to the bottom, clinking against one another.

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