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“Explains why Poppy’s always smiling,” Anthony quips, the audience following with a short chuckle. “What’s happening now, with the both of you?”
“Ash is training here in the States, so we get to spend a lot of time together.” Poppy smiles.
“Is this serious?”
“C’mon, Anthony, silly question. I love this chick.” Ash moves off the sofa and gets down on one knee in front of the audience and pulls out a small box.
Oh my God!
I don’t even know if his divorce is final.
I’m glued to the screen and it’s like watching a train wreck about to happen. I can’t turn away, eager to know what happens next.
“Poppy Rose Clark… you’re the craziest woman I’ve ever met. When I’m with you, life is just better… it’s perfect. No one else can kick me in the nuts and make me smile at the same time.”
And there it is, classic Ash with non-filtered words.
“Will you marry me?”
Poppy’s face lights up with utter delight, extending her hand as he slides a unique pink diamond ring on it. The two of them kiss at the same time my cell buzzes in my hand.
Mom: FYI. Dad and I already knew this was going to happen. Calm your titties, we love Poppy.
I’m not sure what disturbs me more, the fact I didn’t know Ash was going to propose or that Mom told me to calm my titties.
“Did you know?” I question Logan as he stands beside me.
He bites his lip, keeping quiet, then caves when I use my whiney voice and tell him to answer me.
“Yes. He’s my best friend. I promised not to tell anyone.”
I exhale, annoyed. “Nice to know where your loyalty lies.”
Their segment lasts longer than scheduled, and when they walk off the set Poppy runs into my arms as I wait for her long-awaited embrace.
“Jesus, Pop.” I grin. “Are you sure you wanna marry that dork?”
“I’ve never been so sure.”
Ash follows, elated, hugging me with a small sniff.
“Are you crying, Ashley?”
“Just glad she said yes.”
“You better treat her right or you have me to answer to,” I warn him gently, hugging my brother before I’m called on to the set.
Nervous about appearing in front of a live audience, my hands repeatedly pat my thighs while I breathe in and out to curb the anxiety that follows me. Nausea lingers in the pit of my stomach, only adding more stress to the situation.
Logan senses my trepidation, rubbing my shoulders to calm my nerves. “You’ll do great. I’m here, okay?”
I nod, wanting to get this over with. I haven’t seen Wes since the day I left the apartment, but according to the tabloids he did a stint in rehab and has moved in with another actress.
I step onto the stage, dressed head to toe in designer labels. The wardrobe crew want me in a similar dress to the one I wore when Wes and I first went out to dinner. I told them, no, settling for a white off-the-shoulder blouse and black pants. My shoes are Louboutin—a pair I want to steal and take home.
Wesley follows me on the stage and sits beside me on the sofa, keeping his distance. He looks much better, tanned and with his hair slightly longer. Rehab agrees with him, his eyes no longer clouded by dark circles.
“This was an explosive season for the two of you. Let’s watch some of the highlights from season three.”
