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The sun sinks toward the horizon, but I don’t feel like moving. So I don’t. Maybe I never will. I’ll stay on this beach until the wind and waves turn me to sand.
“Hey.” David drops down next to me, handing me a beer.
“How’d you know I was here?” I ask, popping the top off and taking a long pull from the bottle. I’m too tired to be irritated.
“Heard the motorcycle.” David takes a drink of his beer and shifts on the sand. He has something to tell me. The way my life is going, it’s not going to be something good.
He clears his throat. “Ashley didn’t sell you out.”
“Yeah,” I dig my toes deeper, relievedthisis his news. “I know.”
“We have proof. A sworn statement from that paparazzo saying she was staking out Ashley’s place because a call came down to clear out and she was suspicious. She’d never spoken to Ashley or with anyone on Ashley’s behalf. So it wasn’t a setup. Just bad luck.”
I close my eyes. My blood is rushing in my ears, drowning out the surf.
“And it turns out Ashley was right about a file on you being stolen from her house—it wasn’t the intruder though. It was one of the cops. The dumbass leaked the photos of her bedroom to the press too. He’s facing charges.”
Good. The bastard.
David sighs. “Here’s the bad news: we know all this because Celia Foley hired an investigator, who turned all this up. On the bright side, she hasn’t sued you yet.”
She can sue me. Ash can have everything. The house, the money, all of it. I’ll pack some clothes and just drive. Wherever the road takes me. I need the wind rushing through the window and that long ribbon of highway fading off into the distance. The suffocating emptiness of it all.
My life, my soul, everything is empty without her anyway.
“And Ashley was the source behind the wedding story. It was very deliberate, according to the reporter.” David pauses for a drink, then looks thoughtfully out at the ocean. After a moment, he shakes his head. “This might be nothing, but…that drunken party rampage? She wasn’t drunk. I watched her. She was acting, playing it up anytime she saw a camera. From time to time, she’d step back, like she needed a break, and she appeared remarkably sober.”
Ash is brilliant at playing the role of Ashley Foley. It’s a relief to know she hasn’t lost control. Makes her sudden disappearance a little less terrifying. She’s chosen to hide.
“Rose was monitoring your media coverage,” David continues, “so I checked with her. It’s just a possibility, but I think Ashley was paying attention too. When you crept back up toward the spotlight, she put herself in the way. Because the moment that nanny scandal broke, she disappeared.”
I acknowledge him with a slow nod. His words are sinking in, slowly rewriting everything I foolishly thought I knew about the situation. She did it to save me, to give me a break.
David falls silent, but he doesn’t make a move to leave until he’s finished the beer. “I told you on the press junket that you weren’t Michael. I don’t think you caught my meaning.”
Fucking Michael. I loved and adored and idolized the man. He deserved less than I gave him. Ashley deserved more than I gave her. I can’t get it right.
“Michael kept Lilah a secret, even when she might have been amenable to a public relationship because he wanted to preserve his legacy as this great, unimpeachable man who could rise above his philandering father and the worst of the industry that surrounded him. He felt the guilt, but he didn’t struggle with it. He chose his image and never looked back. You look back. You struggle when you do something wrong. You can be better than Michael. It’s not too late.”
I snort. I’m so much worse than Michael. I’ve fucked this thing up so badly there’s no coming back.
He stands. “I know I never gave Ashley a chance, but you did. You were happy for once.” He seems to realize he’s gone too far and clears his throat. “Anyway, you know where to find me. If you want to talk.”
I don’t deserve Ashley and I sure as shit don’t deserve to be happy. The only thing I have now is my job—if I can pull my head out of my ass long enough to keep it.
“Thanks,” I force myself to say, but his words are just another rock pulling me down.
“Welcome to the dark side, Gabe. You’ll do just fine here.”
Chapter thirty-three
Ashley
Mycarwasinthe garage when the intruder broke into my house, so of course they trashed it along with everything else. One call from my aunt’s people and my insurance company made paying me out a priority. Plus, the money from Gabe breaking our fake dating contract came through. For half a heartbeat I consider sending the money back, but it’s kind of like an asshole tax. Plus, he’s rich and I’m not.
I bought a car. I chose this particular model strictly because I liked the look of it. Not because it reminded me of Gabe or the life we might have had.
Okay, maybe a little because of that.
