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She was retreating, her hands up, face tense. But I couldn't stop, the words flowing from my mouth like vomit.
“You are pretending to be my girlfriend. You are being paid to do so. Don’t think that you get to pass any kind of holier-than-thou judgment onto me. You are nothing but an employee who is getting overpaid to cover my ass for me.”
Slowly, mechanical, Ashlyn nodded.
My mouth opened, closed, opened again. After all those horrid words, now I was speechless. Out of words, out of ammo.
“I shouldn't have asked.” Ashlyn moved smoothly past me, her face pale and unmoving. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”
There was that tightness again. The fear, now full grown and barreling down on me like an avalanche. “Ashlyn…” I trailed off.
“It’s Miss Grove, please. I told Cici I’d stay far away from you. Thank you for reminding me why.” Ashlyn finished with a nod. She looked eerily calm, so unaffected by my meltdown. I wished I could channel a fraction of her control.
“I’ll go,” I responded. A text to my driver and a second to slide on my shoes, and suddenly I was standing at her front door, my foot so far back in my mouth that I could kick my tonsils. “Ashlyn, wait.”
“I’ll see you Saturday. Text me where we should meet.” She didn’t meet my eyes. Hell, she didn’t even stop washing the dishes as I slumped out the door.
Son of a…, I cursed into the night sky. Dad’s fundraiser. The one I’d promised Sam I’d bring my girlfriend to.
The formerly fake one who was for real pissed at me right now.
