Page 14 of Phillip

Mary Beth laughed and peeked over the chair’s white-painted wooden slats. “Where else would I be when you’re in the middle of the King Harbor gossip loop?”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me.” Ashley took the wooden chair next to Mary Beth. The slats warmed the backs of her thighs as she tilted her head toward the sun and adjusted her sunglasses. “Word travels fast.”

“Yeah, word travels fast when you’re trending on the internet.” Mary Beth was never able to hide her amusement, even when she felt for the situation. Though if Ashley were on the other side, shemightbe able to see the hilarity. No one had died, and she’d come face-to-face with her ex-boyfriend on live television. It had the perfect makings of a rom-com.

“Even if the Blackthorne name and King Harbor weren’t the most googled words today, the meme of your jaw dropping would’ve pulled me from work anyway.”

Ashley groaned. “A meme?”

Mary Beth reached for her phone. “Several, actually.”

“Don’t show me. Let me pretend for now this wasn’t a big thing.”

Mary Beth leaned close. “Only after we discuss Phillip Blackthorne.”

A red-hot streak of awareness slipped down her spine. “No, thank you.”

“No, thank you.All the manners in the world aren’t getting you out of this conversation,” Mary Beth teased.

She pinched her eyes shut behind the dark lenses. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Suit yourself, but really, it’s your loss.” Mary Beth reached for a pitcher on the small deck table. “Because I made lemonade and am ready with my best listening ears.”

“Rehashing the day—”

“RehashingPhillip.”

Her nose wrinkled as though his name stunk. “None of that is worth all the lemonade in King Harbor.”

Mary Beth shrugged with a smile. “It is if I spiked it with Belvedere.”

Ashley’s eyebrow lifted at the mention of vodka. “We’re having cocktails?”

“I am.Youaren’t having anything until I get some details.”

Her brows dropped. “That’s cruel.”

“That’s me. Mary Beth, theCruel One.”

Ashley reached for the lemonade anyway. Mary Beth playfully smacked her hand away. “Not a single delicious drop until you share.”

She groaned. “You already saw everything on TV.”

“On TMZ, actually. And Page Six. Oh, and a few dozen hot takes on social media.”

“Ugh.” She buried her head in her hands. “Really?”

“Really.”

Ashley rubbed her temples then froze. “My mother’s been calling.”

“Ugh,” Mary Beth added. “That’s enough that I should just hand you the vodka.”

“I haven’t answered.”

“No way,” she said, reaffirming Ashley’s decision to avoid Mother at all costs. “I wouldn’t either.”

Her mother likely saw this as a Cartwright family public relations crisis. There were proper ways to do things—protocol. Surely a disastrous situation like this had been addressed in one of the Miss Manners books that lined her mother’s office, even if Ashley couldn’t recall a chapter about running into an ex on live TV while standing in the middle of a charity auction gone haywire.

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