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A cold shower helps, and afterward, I feel like a million bucks. At least, this is what I tell myself, anyway. Mind over matter.
Forty-eight hours is all that stands between now and the engagement party. This means I have a lot to do in a short amount of time.
Second thing, I call Roy. I need his help. Not only with the situation with Cole. But there’s something else, something I hadn’t thought of. I ask him to stop by because I know it’ll be easier in person.
While I’m waiting for him to arrive, I keep myself busy by doing some digging. It’s stormy o
ut, which fits my mood. I try Cole.
Gina answers his phone. And nothing surprises me anymore. He’s pissed at me, and this is his way of passively aggressively showing me. He recalls last night very differently than I do. In his mind, we had a fight, the usual one, about commitment. He was drunk, so he remembers things a little differently. In his mind, I took off, and he followed. The details of how and why he ended up on that farm to market road are rather hazy.
I’ve been a friend of the bottle myself. So, I suppose I understand, even though I don’t. Not really. I guess we all run out of good favor sometime. Still, it hurts that Cole would turn his back on me. That he would blame me. He could have been the hero, but instead, he’s taking the victim route. It doesn’t make any sense. But then, his hangover hasn’t even had time to wear off fully. Anything can still happen.
The situation with Cole bothers me enough that it motivates me to become a keyboard warrior. After all, the rage has to go somewhere.
Finally, it seems to pay off when I find a forum online that mentions the name Caitlyn Jepson. When I click on the thumbnail, I am not expecting much. I do not actually believe that the name on the driver’s license—Caitlyn Jepson — is anymore her real name than Ashley is.
Jackpot. The image loads and chills creep up my spine. It’s a picture of Ashley a.k.a Caitlyn, only with darker hair. She looks a little younger in the photo, which could be a result of the hair color, although the photo can’t be that old. Because whoever she is, the woman my brother is engaged to, Ashley—she isn’t that old.
The OP as many of the comments reference, or the original poster “Chris” writes: Beware if you see this woman. She stole from me. She’s a scam artist. DM for more info.
Within ninety seconds, I’ve created an account, clicked on his username, and hit send on a direct message. I keep it short and simple. I think a friend might be involved with this woman. Would you be willing to chat?
Two hours go by. I check my inbox at least a dozen times. Nothing. The post was written six months ago, so who knows. People write a lot of things on the internet in the heat of the moment. Maybe he’s put the situation behind him. Maybe he has no intention of digging up the past.
I’m sitting in one of the wingback chairs in the library, with my laptop teetering on my lap when Ashley comes strolling in. Davis follows at her heel, which I’m grateful for. I don’t want to be alone with her.
I don’t trust her. But more than that, I don’t trust myself.
It’s also a double-edged sword. I need to talk to her alone. Risky as that may be.
The worst of the storm has passed but the rain remains.
“There you are,” Davis says. His hair is windblown and he’s soaked from head to toe. But my attention is on Ashley. She’s beaming. She’s grinning from ear to ear and she looks absolutely radiant, even wet. I’ve seen this same twinkle in the eyes of brides-to-be many, many times. It’s the look of someone getting everything they’ve ever wanted. I didn’t think it was possible to hate her anymore, but sometimes I surprise even myself. “We’ve just been in town finalizing the floral arrangements for Saturday night,” Davis tells me. “Wait till you see them. Mrs. Adkins has really outdone herself.”
My brow furrows. “Since when do you care about flowers?”
“He doesn’t,” Ashley quips. “Afterward we dropped by the caterers to taste test the menu.”
“It was the food for me,” he confesses.
“But that’s not all,” Ashley says. She gives my brother the side eye. “Do you want to tell her? Or should I?”
“It’s your news. You tell her.”
Ashley claps her hands giddily and then rubs her palms together. “I’m starting a business!”
Davis nods. “Ashley is incredible. She’s already landed three clients.”
My lips press into a tight smile. I should have seen this coming. She is never going to leave.
“Tell her,” Davis urges.
“Well, after spending so much time in town, I realized how much easier it would be if I had the option to search online before spending the time to drive in.”
“Such hard work shopping is.”
“Right?” Her eyes widen. She feels happy to be understood. “That and with all the tourists, if they had an online presence, I have no doubt they’d get a lot of repeat business.”
