Page 81 of From Asher, With Love

“Rome is…” Holt starts.

Julianna immediately shuts him down. “I don’t care what he is. I don’t want him here.”

She turns to Rome, her anger fueling her once again. “Iwant you to leave. Now.” She turns to her brother. “Both of you.”

Julianna leaves Rome and Holt where they are, disappearing into the crowd gathered around them. Holt holds up his hand, calling after her, but he gives up quickly, knowing it’s no use. When you’ve made Julianna upset, it’s best to give her space.

“I’ll go after her and make sure she’s okay,” Selene says to London and me.

“I’ll go with you,” London offers.

I search the crowd. This party is massive. I never thought the rooftop of a building could hold so many people. “I’m going to find Asher and see if he can talk to Holt and let him know what’s going on,” I tell the sisters. “I’ll find you after.”

“Okay.” Selene gives me a kiss on the cheek before walking away.

Rome and Holt are still standing where Julianna left them. I don’t pay too much attention to them before searching for Asher. Holt is deep in conversation with Rome, so I don’t bother asking him if he knows where Asher is, either.

I push through the crowd, wanting to find him as quickly as possible so I can get back to my best friend. I decide to start with the last place I saw him, at the bar.

TWENTY-FIVE

WEST

I hate people. Well, maybe not all of them.

It’s a laughable philosophy to live by for someone who owns a chain of bars and craft breweries. My businessispeople.

But I’ve never had more conviction in that belief than I do now.

Staring out at the sea of wealthy fuckers willing to suck this person’s cock to squeeze every last dime out of their filthy rich assholes makes me reconsider my career path.

Ironically, I’m one of these wealthy fuckers now, but I didn’t grow up like them. I’m not a trust-fund baby, and I don’t strive to stand beneath the spotlight. I don’t want to be known for my name, and I don’t want to be known for my money.

In truth, I don’t think I want to be known—a constant battle when I want to continue to grow in my business and build a life for myself.

“West?”

I break my attention away from the sea of wealthy fuckers to see Asher Egan walking toward me.

He’s wealthy, but not a fucker. I like him.

“Hey, man.” I give his hand a shake.

He runs his fingers over the top of his hair. “I’m so sorry I’ve missed you these past few weeks. I hope you don’t hold it against me.”

I laugh and shake my head. “Not at all. I’ve been busy, too, so I get it.”

Asher points to the bar set up beside us. “Would you like to grab a drink, and maybe we can talk about your plans?”

After I order a beer and Asher orders a seltzer and lime, we sit on the barstools lining the glass barrier running along the edge of the roof.

“Are you having a good time so far?” I ask Asher, nodding to the party goers.

He glances over his shoulder before turning back to me. “Yeah, I’m here with my girl, Charleigh. She owns a flower shop on the Upper West Side. She also happens to be best friends with Julianna.”

“Oh.” I nod, swallowing my beer. “She was at my opening for the garden, right?”

“She was.” He nods, too, a small smile blooming. “We weren’t exactly on good terms then, but we’re working on it.”

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