Page 52 of You and Me, For Real
I stand and pull Cecily from her chair, gathering her into my arms. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize. I didn’t know.”
She sniffles, her voice muffled. “I know. It’s why I wanted to see you.”
I release her and swipe the tears I see rolling down her cheeks. “Thank you. I’m glad you found me.”
“I’m sorry it took so long.” She bites her lower lip, a smile tipping the corners. “I missed you.”
I missed her too. I missed having a friend. “Let’s start over, okay?”
“I’d like that.”
We sit together for hours, rehashing what had happened to us the last five years since we were separated. Her: everything. She’d bought her own house, started college classes, and set up an online boutique selling her art. Whereas I mostly worked at the shelter and thought about starting the rescue. The conversation fills me with regret. Regret that I so easily walked away from family. And regret over how much time I’ve wasted instead of actually making progress toward my dreams. Maybe Griffin and Luke are right. Maybe the only way to gain traction for the rescue is by utilizing social media.
I whip out my phone before I can second guess myself.
Ashton
I’m all in.
15
GRIFFIN
“Isn’t this just cozy?” my father asks over the loud music, his full schmooze mode on.
The lighting in the restaurant is dim, with dark navy walls and brown leather booths. A large chandelier illuminates our circular table. Dad and Wesley Rhodes slide into the booth on the opposite side of Scarlet and me. She’s wearing a fitted red dress with a slit to high heaven. The scrap of fabric leaves little to the imagination, and it’s just the attention-grabber she’s hoped for.
We’re at Ember’s, a local haunt for Hollywood A-listers where paps lurk outside to see who shows up. The photo op is half the reason we’re here, though I don’t see how Scarlet’s get-up is supposed to sell her devoted girlfriend routine. So much for settling down with her steady boyfriend. The look is a bit too desperate for attention. I appreciate a woman who’s confident in simple, casual attire. Like Ashton.
Just the thought of her brings a smile to my lips. She texted earlier today saying she’s ready to move forward with the social media suggestion and wants my help. I’d told her I had a meeting tonight, but we’d brainstorm ideas later. Which is thereason I’m ready to blow this popsicle stand so I can actually spend time doing somethingIwant to do with someone I want to do it with.
Scarlet squeezes my thigh and flips her curled hair over her shoulders. “Do you like my dress?”
Even though I know there is only one right answer here, I can’t bring myself to compliment her and create more confusion between us. I give her the next best thing I can offer. Honesty. “It’s quite the statement.”
She beams at the comment. “Thank you. I picked it out just for you.”
The way she looks about the room to see who else has noticed her makes me question this.
A waiter comes to take our drink order.
“We’ll take a bottle of your house wine.” Wesley orders without even asking anyone at the table.
The bottle’s probably over a thousand dollars and will likely end up on my tab as I’m the one who wants this relationship the most. Wesley’s one of the leading producers in film right now. All his projects have been big box sellers, and I want a piece of the pie. I’m determined to show him I’m dedicated to this fake relationship, and therefore, holding up my end of the contract. I also want to ensure Wesley does the same.
My father and Wesley carry on a conversation across the table, and suddenly, I feel like I’m a kid at the adult table. The music is louder than necessary for a restaurant, but it houses a full-service bar. It’s overly crowded tonight. My button-up collar is too tight, and I’m anxious to get back home and check on Roxy.
This particular kind of scene—with all the contrived interactions among the leading entertainment power players—makes me miss Ashton. I miss the easiness of our relationship. While I saw her just yesterday, I’m eager to see her again. I’vetexted a few pictures of Roxy lying in her dog bed indoors and again when she ate from her dog bowl inside. She texted simple, but cheerful, positive replies. I shot her a picture this morning of Roxy and me sitting on the back porch while I drank coffee. She replied, saying, “Looks heavenly.”I responded with, “It’d be better if you and Teddy were here.” Instead of responding, she sent a smiley face emoji.
It was an idiot move on my part. Too fast. Too soon. And to her knowledge, I have a girlfriend. Plus, I promised I’d keep things professional between us. It wasn’t fair of me.
I pull out my phone to check the time, hoping by some miracle an hour has magically passed.
“Expecting a call?” Scarlet leans toward me, her lips near my ear.
Her proximity makes my body twitch. “No. Just checking.” To tone down my defensiveness, I add, “Luke’s watching Roxy for me. Just nervous, I guess.”
“Aw, Papa Bear worried about his cub. That’s sweet. Welcome to pet ownership.” She rubs my back. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
