Batshit selfish woman, that one.
He rolled over into bed and reached for his phone. He ignored all of the missed calls and texts, not bothering to see who they were from. He opened up his social media feed and scrolled past all the comments. All the pictures of him partying out in the city and lip-locking with other women. He hadn’t brought any of them back, of course. But the press catching wind of it was rehabilitating his image. The media was slowly diverting away from Kallie and her senseless acts and was focused on Ash and his ability to bounce back.
The latest headline? “Ash Worthington Proves Women Can’t Swindle Men.”
Hell fucking yes.
His eyes danced along the screen as he decided which party to crash for the night. Which hotspot to grace with his presence. Somewhere with lots of alcohol, decent food, and women with curves in all the right places. He was going to bless another venue with a night of partying on him. And then he’d pick a lovely lady to lay his hands on for the night. To grind against. Maybe to sink his cock into.
At the very least, he’d pick a lovely lady whose lips he wanted to taste.
His phone lit up again with a text message and he sighed. But this was from Sasha Benson. That fucking bitch. Then again, that was yet another intervention the heavens tried to send to him. The beautiful day he had spent with Kallie and it was almost ruined by her presence. At least, Ash thought she was trying to ruin it.
Looking back on it, he figured it was a sign.
Someone shouting down from the clouds telling him to run the other way as fast as he fucking could.
Hope you didn’t forget about my birthday this weekend. It’s at my family’s place in the Hamptons. You should come, Ash. I’ve got your favorite drink ready and waiting. Come have a good time. Get out of the city. Have a drink with me. XoX
Fuck. Ash had forgotten all about that. He read the text message over and over, wondering if it was something he should go to. He and Sasha had a history. An island sort of history. If he went, he was certain something would go down. But the idea of getting away from the city and away from all the bullshit that plagued him here was too rich to pass up.
Getting out of the city was a very appealing idea. Especially if he wasn’t going back to the island.
Fuck New York City and its residents.
Ash was headed to the Hamptons.
“Yes, Mr. Worthington?”
“Clyde! Good morning. Are you busy this afternoon?” Ash asked.
“No, sir. I am at your disposal.”
“Wonderful. I’m heading to the Hamptons this afternoon. To my father’s residence. Is he there currently?”
“No, sir. He’s in London for the next month.”
“Perfect. Be at my place around two o’clock. Once you drop me off, you can take some time off.”
“Will you not need an escort around the town?” he asked.
“No, Clyde. I can get myself around. I’ll use one of my father’s cars. I’m sure he won’t miss one of the seven he has in that location alone.”
“No, sir. I’m sure he won’t.”
“Perfect! Then I’ll see you at two.”
“See you then, sir.”
Ash hung up the phone with the family driver and began to pack. He stumbled around his closet, tossing random shit into a suitcase. He had no idea what he was tossing in there, and he didn’t care. His father’s house in the Hamptons was the most luxurious place the man owned. An indoor-outdoor swimming pool. Two separate hot tubs. A swim-up bar with a bartender who was on call for all sorts of purposes. Multiple rooms, each with its own theme and decor. A beautifully landscaped backyard with a gazebo that housed a porch swing. A masseuse, a maid, a butler, and a chef who all lived permanently on the grounds, and acres of land to explore with the golf cart and the two four-wheelers his father owned.
Yes, a month in the Hamptons was exactly what Ash needed.
He zipped up his suitcase of bullshit and grabbed a few suits, then slung them over his shoulder. Whatever else he needed he could probably find in his father’s closet. That was the thing about him and his father. They were practically twins of each other. Same height. Same build. Same weight. Same boyish stare. Every time Ash saw his father, it was like looking into a fucking mirror.