“I know you didn’t, Mom.”
God, my mother deserves so much more than she’s gotten so far out of this life.
“You can move to Colorado,” I say off the cuff. “Snow Creek has an adorable little salon. Or you could start your own.”
“This is my home,” she says. “I have an established clientele. I don’t want to start over, Ashley.”
“You can live with us until you get set up. You don’t have to worry about money, Mom. Not ever. Not anymore.”
“I’m not living off my rich daughter.”
“You wouldn’t be. We’d just be helping out until—”
“No,” she says adamantly. “Absolutely not. This is my home.”
“All right.” I relent. “What can I do for you?”
“Call a friend,” she says. “You’ve been gone almost a month. Go have some fun.”
“I’m not leaving you alone.”
“Sweetie, I want to be alone. It’s okay. I need to deal with this in my own way in my own home. Please.”
I nod. I get it. It’ll be nice to see some friends anyway. I scoff slightly. I’ve really fucked up the whole internship thing. After my commitment, too. I know they never really needed me, and Dale said I could take as much time as I need in LA with my mom. I’m supposed to call him as soon as the arrangements are made. He’ll fly out to attend the service.
I told him he didn’t have to, but he insisted.
My wonderful Dale.
I quickly text my friend Mariah, and she responds.
You’re back? Want to hit the beach?
Beach sounds heavenly.
The beach in early October. I truly have missed LA. It’s a balmy eighty in the forecast. No rubbing my arms during what Dale calls an “Indian summer.”
I sigh. Colorado is my home now. Not LA.
Still, I can enjoy some time on the sand.
I’ll see who else can meet us there. How about in two hours?
I text a thumbs-up to my friend, and then I unpack my bikini.
Our favorite beach is privately run, with a bar and everything. Mariah’s uncle is a member of the club, and he lets her and her friends use his membership.
Funny. I used to think Mariah’s uncle was rich. He’s a B-movie producer, worth a couple million.
As a Steel, I’m worth a couple billion. Well, not me personally, but the company.
Unreal.
“Ash, what the hell is that?” Mariah’s eyes turn into circles.
My engagement ring and wedding band.
Funny that I haven’t told any of my friends in LA that Dale and I tied the knot.
“Oh. I’m married.” My voice sounds more nonchalant than I mean it to.
“To who, the Prince of Wales?” She grabs my hand and stares down at the rock.
“To Dale Steel.”
“Of the Steels?”
I nod, my cheeks warming even in the LA heat.
“My God, when did this happen? And why didn’t you tell us?”
“Life has been…” I shake my head. “Honestly, it all happened so fast. I’ve only known him a few weeks. We did it on the spur of the moment in Vegas with my mom and her… And then… Oh, God…”
“What is it, Ash?”
The whole story pours out of me in clipped sentences. Dale. Me. Mom. Dennis.
“You poor thing!” my friend Lauren gushes.
“Except she’s married to a master winemaker who’s richer than God,” my friend Catherine adds.
“Still…” This from Mary Beth.
“Let’s get you a drink.” Mariah leads me to the bar.
It’s only noon, but I don’t balk. A drink may take the edge off.
I breathe in. The last time I was here at the beach club, I ended up fucking one of the bartenders.
“What can I get— Hey, baby!”
Fuck. Of course. This bartender.
“Hey, Regan,” I say.
Regan’s still as sexy as ever. Blond, blue-eyed, tanned with a surfer bod. Of course, he is a surfing champ.
“Haven’t seen you around in a while, Ashley,” he says.
“I’ve been doing an internship in Colorado.”
“Oh? For your wine thing?”
Wine thing? Did I actually tell him a little about myself? “Yeah, my wine thing.”
“Good to have you back. I get off at three.” He lifts his eyebrows and smiles slyly.
I flick my left hand at him. “Can’t.”
“Is that what I think it is?”
“Yup. I’m an old married lady now. No more fun in the sun.”
“Bummer. What can I get you, then?”
“Sex on the beach.”
He smiles. “My pleasure.”
“The drink, Regan.”
“Of course. I don’t mess with married women.” He smiles again. “Not usually anyway. I could make an exception for a tigress like you.”
“The drink,” I repeat.
“Make that two,” Mariah pipes in.
“Sex on the beach?” He lifts his eyebrows again.
“Absolutely.” Mariah smiles flirtatiously.
Yeah, I know what she’ll be doing after three.
I take my drink from Regan, head to our cabana, and grab my towel.
Sun, here I come.
Chapter Forty-One
Dale
“I’m flying out in the morning,” I tell Mom and Dad over breakfast the next day, while Darla bustles around the kitchen. “The service is tomorrow afternoon.”
“Is there anything we can do?” Dad asks. “Should we go?”