Page 99 of More Than Pen Pals

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Ash says.

I stare at him from across the table at a bar down the street from work, and my stomach constricts. Those words never precede anything the other person wants to hear.

“Okay,” I prompt when he doesn’t continue.

“Remember how Melissa and her parents came to dinner on Saturday?”

I already don’t like where this conversation is headed. “Yes.”

“When we were talking at the game on Friday, we decided to play a trick on our moms.”

He takes a deep breath while I try to keep my stomach from rejecting the cosmopolitan I’ve been drinking.

Ash continues, “We pretended we were interested in each other during dinner.”

My hand goes to my throat. I can’t speak. Ash reaches out toward my other hand on the table, but I pull it away from him. Pain flashes through his eyes.

“Please remember I thought it would be months before I could date you. And I never intended to actually date Melissa. But after dinner—after our families thought we were into each other and we were riding on the high of our success—we were hanging out at my place with Randall. We decided to go on a fake date this Saturday, with Randall tagging along, since it’s not an actual date. Melissa insisted on him coming with us, because she knew I had something going on with you. It’s just the three of us having a meal together as friends. That’s all.”

I’m struggling to keep my tears at bay.

“Will you say something?” he asks.

I shake my head. I can’t say anything without sobbing. If Ash could convince his family he was into Melissa, there’s no way he didn’t mean any of what he did or said to make them believe it. My heart has never ached like this—not even as a result of anything Glenn did or said over the past month.

“Please, Leslie. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for things to get out of hand like this. It was supposed to be a joke.”

“It’s not a joke to me,” I choke out. “And you didn’t cancel this so-called fake date after last night?”

He looks away from me for the first time since he began speaking. “No.”

I force myself to stay in my seat instead of running out of the bar in tears. “Why?”

“Our moms already know we’re going out, and if we cancel, they’ll want to know why. This dinner means nothing to me, but Melissa recently moved back to town and needs some friends, and I can’t let her down.”

“You can’t letMelissadown? What about me?” A few tears fall and I angrily swipe them away. “Why can’t you tell your mother the truth? You’re not twelve!” Then it hits me. “You don’t want to tell your mom you’re dating me.”

He looks stricken. “Leslie—”

“You’re fine with her thinking you’re dating a woman who’s part of your elite, rich, north-side world, but not me.” I grab my purse and stand. “You’re ashamed of me. Well, shame on you, Ashley Hamilton.” I stab my finger at him. “Shame on you.” I ignore his shell-shocked look, turn on my heel, and walk away as calmly as I can.

He’s lucky I didn’t throw the rest of my drink in his face.

forty-eight

“Don’t tell him I’m coming,” I order Jeff as I storm past him in Randall’s lobby.

The doorman gives me a wary look. “Yes, sir.”

When I reach my brother’s door, I pound on it as I unlock and open it. His eyes widen when he sees the look on my face, and he holds his hands up in front of himself in self-defense.

“Whatever happened, it’s not my fault!” he says.

I sigh and close my eyes. “I know,” I say, even though I was fully prepared to blame him for everything. “It’s allmyfault.” I drop onto the love seat. “I told you I was going to screw this up with her.”

“You told her about Melissa?”

I nod. “Before I tell you what happened, do you have Wendy’s phone number?”

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