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“Don’t be silly. It’ll be good for Gabby. She’ll like you once she gets to know you. She’ll see that this is all for the best. All you have to do is sit back and relax.”
“Is there something wrong with you?”
“With me?” She touches her chest lightly and lets her hand rest there. “No. Why do you ask?”
“You sound crazy. And I think there’s something you’re not telling me.”
“Nope,” she quips. “There isn’t.”
“I know your name isn’t Ashley.”
Her head cocks, and her eyes narrow. I think she’s going to say something, but she doesn’t.
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
“I know you aren’t who you say you are.”
“No one is who they say they are.” She sighs and she seems relieved. “Not even you. Haven’t we established that in this conversation? You’re living one big fat lie. So is Ryan Jenkins. And how funny that you have it in you to point fingers at others.”
“I’m going to tell Davis.”
“What makes you think he doesn’t already know?”
“I—”
“I’m not one to be messed with,” Ashley says, cutting me off. “If there’s anything you should know, it’s that.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“No,” she tells me. “Of course not.”
“Because I find it interesting that since you showed up, men around here seem to be dropping like flies.”
“I have nothing against women.” She flashes a wicked smile.
“I don’t think you know as much about me as you think you do.”
“I know enough.” She leans forward and checks her reflection in the mirror over the mantle. “Any-who, the party is a week from tomorrow. I checked the calendar in your office.” Her eyes meet mine. “It’s a Sunday, which wasn’t ideal. But what is it they say? Beggars can’t be choosy?”
“We’re not having a party.”
“Don’t be difficult, Ruth. All you have to do is put on a nice dress, sit back, and look pretty. That shouldn’t be too hard, should it?”
“Who’s paying for this?”
“Davey is. In fact, it was his idea.”
“Like hell it was.”
“If you don’t believe me, ask him.”
I plan on it, though this is not what I say. “I am running a business here. I do not have room in my schedule for your whims.”
“We’ll see about that.”
I watch as she starts toward the front of the house. She almost reaches the door before she stops and turns on her heel. “Oh,” she says like she’s forgotten one tiny detail. “What should we do about Cole?”
