As I was applying my eyeliner, it hit me: I'd made a promise to myself to keep my distance from Asher, to keep things professional. Yet there I was, putting on makeup and acting like a nervous high schooler, trying to decide which cocktail dress and heels to wear to the jazz lounge we had agreed to go to.
“You let your guard down. In that moment of happiness, you became so overwhelmed that you were weak! You totally let your emotions get the better of you,” I scolded myself in the mirror.
The battle was getting harder and harder to fight. But, since the joy of my success had started to wear off, my logical and rational mind started to make a strong comeback.
I couldn't do it—not yet. I just couldn't.
I dropped my eyeliner into my makeup bag and picked up my phone.
I knew what I had to do.
Hi, Asher. I hope you haven't left your place yet. I'm really sorry, but I've suddenly started to feel a little under the weather. I think it may have been the seafood I had earlier. I hate to do this, but I'm going to have to call off drinks for the evening. Looks like I'm going to be spending most of the weekend at home.
I sat down on the edge of my bathtub and put my head in my hands. I wasn’t overly pleased with myself over what I had just done, but sometimes you had to do unpleasant things to remain in control of yourself and your feelings.
My phone buzzed a minute or two later. He had replied.
Oh no, Lilah, I'm really sorry to hear that. I could come over to your place and just chill if that would be easier for you?
I typed out a quick reply, feeling terrible but knowing that it had to be done.
Thanks for the offer, but it's fine—I really prefer to be alone when I’m sick. See you on Monday.
And with that, I turned my phone off and started running a bath.
Chapter Eleven
Asher
I'd been really looking forward to having a few drinks with Lilah. Not because I had any expectations that a few drinks might loosen our inhibitions and ultimately something would happen between us again, but simply to enjoy her presence, her conversation, and the feeling of being myself around her.
Not to mention, I did want to celebrate. Her Harry Winston campaign ideas had performed phenomenally well, and I was incredibly proud of her. It was kind of obvious that she was overwhelmed at her own success and the excitement I’d seen in her eyes was something I'd wanted to share with her.
Yet, despite her keenness in that moment, her enthusiasm seemed to have not only faded, but disappeared entirely by the time the evening rolled around.
I'd put on one of my favorite suits and had even gotten my grandfather's cufflinks out. It had been as Alfred was warming up the Lamborghini for me that I got the message from Lilah cancelling our plans.
She'd claimed she was sick, but I had my doubts. It felt far more like she was searching for an excuse to get out of the evening. And while I wanted nothing more than to spend time with Lilah, I wasn't going to sit at home and mope about it. In fact, I was going to take the Lamborghini out regardless. And, I wasn't going to do it alone.
A man can only be rejected so many times before he starts thinking of other options.
I took out my phone and started looking through my contacts. One name immediately sprang out: Angeline. Twenty-three, blonde, and drop-dead gorgeous.
She was a young actress who had just started to break into Hollywood—and she had been very, very interested in me for quite some time. I messaged her.
Hey, Angeline, it's been a while! How's everything? If you're not busy tonight, I'm taking my Lamborghini out for a spin. I know how much you like supercars, so if you're free, you're welcome to come along for a drive.
I didn't have to wait very long for an answer; the phone buzzed about ten se
conds after I hit the send.
Hey, Asher! Awesome 2 hear from u! I'm IN!
I typed out a hasty reply.
Pick you up from your place in half an hour?
The reply arrived almost instantly.