Page 1 of Fling (Carmichael Family)
ONE
Ashley
“I’ve made a decision.”
My best friend, Rebecca, looks at me with a heavy dose of skepticism. Although I’d like to think that her dubious reaction to my announcement is overblown … it’s probably not. That’s especially true when my recent rash of spontaneous decisions—although justified—is taken into consideration.
Oh, well.
“Not sure I even want to hear this,” she says before taking a sip of her drink.
“Becca, I’m going on my honeymoon.”
She sputters into a napkin, sending a million particles of tequila into the fabric. The blues of her eyes mist in a watery fog.
I sip my coconut lime margarita and enjoy the evening breeze while Rebecca tries not to die. Even though it’s balmy, the air rippling across the rooftop patio is a pleasant reprieve … and a nice distraction from Rebecca’s complete overreaction.
“Okay, now that I can breathe again, can you repeat that?” she asks before clearing her throat. “I misheard you.”
“I’m going on my honeymoon.”
I say the words as though each is its own sentence. Not that the emphasis or the clarity is needed. She heard me. She heard me just fine.
Rebecca holds my gaze. Disbelief mixed with confusion and maybe a sprinkle of amusement is written on her pretty, freckled face.
“Come on,” I say, pressing my lips together. “I have to go. How can I let five days in the Caribbean go to waste? What kind of person would I be if I let that happen? I’m a travel agent, for goodness’ sake.”
She shakes her head, her chestnut tresses dusting her shoulders. She makes a show of holding up her glass and inspecting it. “I haven’t drunk enough to be so intoxicated that I’m imagining this conversation, have I?”
“Stop it.” I laugh. “Be serious.”
“Be serious? Okay.” She folds her hands together on the table and leans forward, looking me straight in the eye. “I’m worried about you. Are you well?”
A smile stretches across my face. Even though she fights it, she grins too.
I knew it was the right decision to call off my wedding a month before the ceremony was set to take place. What I didn’t know—what I didn’t envision—was just how relieved I would be when it was all said and done.
When I got out of my lease, put my things in storage, and showed up on Rebecca’s doorstep until I figured out what I was going to do—my relief came in waves. And I’ve basked in it ever since.
I got my power back. I hadn’t realized I’d lost so much of it somewhere over the past two years.
“Don’t worry about me,” I say, licking the salt off my bottom lip. “I’m good.”
“I haven’t been worrying about you. I’ve been too busy celebrating the fact that I got my best friend back from Lord Farquaad.”
I giggle. “Stop calling him that.”
“It’s not my fault that he’s power-hungry, obsessed with perfection, and has an affinity for red and black. He was one pageboy haircut from me buying him a freaking horse to fulfill his destiny.”
I shake with laughter.
“To this day, I’m still confused about why you fell for that guy,” Rebecca says.
Yeah, well, me too. “Honestly? At that moment in my life? Dad had just died. I was grieving him and the relationship we never had and was sort of processing the trauma of that situation, I think. And Eton embodied a … power, a sense of control and almost detachment that I wished that I had.” I swirl the liquid around my glass. “I’m not sure I ever fell for him, but that drew me in.”
