Page 107 of You and Me, For Real
“Tell him off yourself. Right then. Even I had a hard time holding back. I wanted to punch my uncle in the jaw.”
I crack my knuckles, anger rising within me again. “I know. He’s become obsessed with my career.”
Luke arches an eyebrow, waiting.
“I know. I know. I hate that he has this film role dangling in front of me like some golden carrot. I plan to say something soon.”
He tilts his head, narrowing his eyes.
“I will! I promise. I’ll go on this stupid date tonight, let the dust settle, and approach him about it then.”
“Good. Because if you have any chance of being with Ashton—for real—you need to set your dad straight. Also, Ashton may’ve mentioned she would be at Wren’s.”
I jump from my chair. “Why didn’t you start with that?”
“Hold your horses, cowboy. I think she could use some alone time…or girl time…or whatever. Why don’t you talk to her when you get back tonight? Let herandyour emotions calm down first?”
My phone chimes in my pocket.
Dad
Reservation is at 7:00. Don’t be late.
He attaches the details of the restaurant—a highly popular locale for Hollywood stars and a hot spot for paparazzi. I glance at the time. It’s just after six. I’ll have to head out soon if I’m going to make it on time.
“Fine. I’ll go fake wine and dine Scarlet and be back early.”
Luke retrieves his book and opens it to his bookmarked page. “You might want to text Ashton and do some groveling first.”
30
ASHTON
Iwalk into Wren’s, and Churro greets us at the door. He bounces around Teddy, barking happily. The fosters clumsily follow behind me, curious but timid about the feisty Chihuahua.
Wren pops out of her bedroom. “I am so, so sorry. I know I should have asked you first, but I saw the clip when I left this morning for a session with my trainer. You were still asleep. From experience, it’s best to get in front of these crap-storms before things get twisted out of context.” She clutches both my hands. “Can you forgive me?”
While my emotions are still tumultuous—mostly directed at Griffin at the moment—I know Wren’s intentions were pure. “It’s fine. But you owe me.”
“Yes! Absolutely. Anything. Name it.” She clasps her hands together, begging.
I decided last night to ignore my doubts that this friendship between Wren and me is anything like my childhood, where people only got close to me to gain something.
“Will you serve on my rescue’s board?”
She squeals. “Are you kidding? I’d love to!” She jumps up and down.
Relief courses through my veins as she hugs me. It feels incredibly nice to have so many people in my corner. I didn’t realize how much I needed them. Maybe that’s what has been holding me back.
I school my face into a serious expression. “And one more thing.”
She stops hopping. “What?”
“Can we have a girls’ night?”
“How is that even a question? Absolutely, we can! Let me take care of everything.” She squeezes me in a tight hug and then zips into the living room, retrieving her phone.
Before I know it, she’s ordered Mexican food to be delivered and turns on her TV to prep for a chick flick search, saying, “Is it even a girl’s night without vegging out on Mexican food and a chick flick?”
