Page 41 of Acquiring Ainsley
Come up as soon as you get here—Ashton.
“Why didn’t he just text you?” Brooke asked. “Wouldn’t that be easier.”
“Yes, and I have no idea why he didn’t.” I shrugged. “But he’s always had a flair for the dramatic. One of his worst qualities.”
We left our luggage in the foyer at my place, then took the elevator to Ross Publishing headquarters. When we arrived in the lobby, the receptionist stood from her desk. All the color had left her face, and she had wide eyes.
“Ashton said he wanted to see you as soon as you got in.” She glanced at the large phone switchboard behind the desk. “He’s on a call right now, but he said to show you in to his office as soon as you arrived.” She strode out from behind the desk. “May I get you a bottle of water? Some wine?” She looked in the direction of Ashton’s office. “A shot of bourbon?”
I laughed. “Come on, it can’t be that bad.”
The receptionist nodded, indicating that, yes, it was that bad. “Your brother is in a mood,” she whispered. “Very gloomy. I’d… Forgive me for saying this, but I thought things were better and—”
“Just show me in,” I said.
Brooke stayed in the lobby, and I followed the receptionist into the broad corner office that Ashton had taken after our father died. Just like the rest of the company, this room had an eclectic mix of mid-century and modern furniture, along with vintage advertising from better, more productive years of Ross Publishing. He hurried off the phone when he saw me enter, and I took a seat in the club chair in front of his desk. Maura excused herself and shut the door behind her.
“How are you?” Ashton folded his arms on the desk. “How was the flight?”
“Fine. I’m good. Just hoping to have a productive weekend shopping for a wedding dress with Brooke. She booked us three appointments for tomorrow.”
“Mom said the other day that she was sorry she can’t make it for this trip.”
“I wish she could have. It would have been nice to get her advice.” I smiled at him. “Speaking of which, we have most of the engagement party planned. I met with the staff at Flagler yesterday, and it looks like we can get everything that we want on the menu, even the sushi and caviar bar. Plus, The Groove Electric is available, so they’re coming up from Miami. I can’t believe they are going to be the entertainment.”
For the last ten years or so, The Groove Electric had cultivated a reputation as one of the hottest cover bands in South Florida. They played for political fundraisers, entertained presidents, and partied on New Year’s Eve with hundreds of well-heeled guests at The Breakers Resort. Booking them for a private party had been quite a coup.
“Also, Mom is looking into having the flowers flown in from Paris. She says this florist she knows has the most beautiful roses in the world, so—” I broke off because the expression on his face had changed. “What? What’s going on?”
Ashton didn’t reply. He just studied me, and it was then that I really noticed how tired he appeared. Two thick, dark circles rimmed his brown eyes, and his chalky, white skin didn’t hide the blood vessels in his face. He’d also lost even more weight in the last month.
“Are you okay?”
“No,” he said. “I’m not. I’m in hell.”
“What? Why?”
He sighed. “I’ve been trying to figure out a way to tell you this. Trying to think of something that will help to soften what I’m about to say. And I’m at a total loss for words.”
“Just tell me. I’m sure it’s…”
“You can’t marry Trevor McNamara,” he announced. “I can’t let you do this, Ainsley.”
“What?”
His words, and my question, echoed across the room. They carried their own weight. Their own implications. Their own meaning.
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am.”
“But—the wedding is planned, Ashton. We’re having an engagement party soon, and we’ve already paid the deposit. It’s all done.”
“Then undo it.”
“Why should I?”
He sighed. “I have some bad news about Trevor. Somereallybad news.” He paused. “He’s not what you think he is.”
