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I still don’t know what his last name is, and honestly, I don’t care. I asked him that one time, and never again. I don’t think he’s hiding anything crazy—he seems pretty genuine, and he’s always told me he’d tell me the next time he saw me.
Part of me wonders if it has to do with money. He’s only thirty and his house at the lake must have cost a fortune. People with money tend to not want other people to know just how much. If I knew his last name, I’d be able to search for him on the internet, and that might give it away.
The girls asked me about him right when I got back from North Carolina, but I left my answers pretty vague, and in return, they left me alone. Once, we talked about this gig tonight and the possibility of us trying to meet up with Ash and Clay, but Emma hesitated, so I dropped the subject.
Every day he sends me a text good morning, every afternoon he sends me a photo of whatever he’s looking at, and every evening we talk before going to bed.
It’s the day after Thanksgiving, and the girls and I are in Nashville. Word of our arrival for the benefit tonight has created a bit of a buzz, and sure enough, in front of the hotel, paparazzi have staked out.
Closing the door to the limo, people start tapping on the window, trying to get our attention.
“Seriously! Who says, ‘When I grow up, I want stand around and take bad photos of good people’?” Emma growls.
It’s the one part of this job that I hate the most.
“It’s not that bad, just ignore them,” says Scott, the intern tagging along with Mona. Emma, Cora, Mona, and myself all turn to glare at him.
“Who said he could speak?” Cora asks, pinning Mona with a get-rid-of-this-guy look.
“What?” he says, completely unaware of the irritation floating between all of us.
Smoothing out the skirt to my gown, the clutch on my lap vibrates. I unsnap the clasp and pull out my phone.
Ash: When can I see you again?
A smile instantly lightens my face.
Me: Who says I want to see you?
Ash: Ouch, you wound me.
Me: I highly doubt that.
Ash: I’m serious. Tell me when and where and I’ll be there.
Me: Tomorrow too soon?
Ash: Where are you?
Me: Wouldn’t you like to know?
Ash: I would, very much so.
Me: Well, it just so happens I’m in Nashville.
Ash: Really? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? If I didn’t have to work tonight, I’d come find you. Btw—why are you here?
Me: You’re working on a holiday weekend?
Ash: So now you’re curious . . . wouldn’t you like to know?
Me: I would.
Ash: All right, let’s talk about all this tomorrow.
Me: Text me when you wake up.
Ash: You know I wake up early.
