Ashton Scott
“Will do. She sent a box over with a note. You want me to open it and tell you what it says?”
“I’m fairly sure I know what it says, but humour me.” I wait for the lift to take me up to the top floor.
A moment passes before Jessica’s laugh sounds through the phone. “Oh, I love this woman. No wonder you’re chasing her all over town even after she’s shot you down a million times.”
“Tell me what it says,” I mutter.
“She says she’s keeping the toys you sent her except for the one that’s in the box. She’ll need all the rest because she’s decided to take a break from dick for a while. And she thinks you should stick the toy she sent back in the same place you should stick your idea for her to go away with you.”
“She sent the butt plug back.”
“She did.”
Stepping into the lift, I smile. “Change of plans. Don’t contact Lorelei about this weekend. Leave it to me to handle.”
“You ruin all my fun,” she grumbles.
“Goodbye, Jessica.” I end the call as I reach my destination. Taking purposeful strides, I make my way to my father’s office.
This meeting has been a long time coming.
* * *
“Ashton, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
I stare at my father as he stands and moves towards me from behind his desk. He’s hardly aged in the six months since I’ve seen him. I doubt the flecks of grey hair he’s sporting have even increased in that time. His rugged good looks are only enhanced by his tanned skin and immaculate style. My mother doesn’t work, but she spends a great deal of her time ensuring her husband looks good when he appears in the gossip columns.
“Let’s cut the bullshit, Dad. What’s your plan for Willow Street?”
He clenches his jaw as he glowers at me. “What makes you think you have a right to come here and ask me that after you cut me out of your life a year ago?”
“You know damn well what right I have.”
“Whatever you think you have, you don’t, son. Now, is that all you came here for today? Because if so, I’ve better things to do than stand around squabbling like children over a business deal. I suggest that if you want to play with the big boys, you grow the fuck up.”
I step closer to him and lower my voice as I spit out, “I know what you did back then, and I’ve held onto that knowledge all these years. Don’t make me use it.”
He never saw that coming and he flinches. But I’m still left with nothing but anger.
Fuck.
I’ve wanted to say those words to him for years.
Why the hell don’t they make me feel good?
As I stalk out of his building, I curse myself for coming. I should have known better. My father always manages to get under my skin. The only thing different about today is that this time, I managed to get under his, too. The fact I’m not leaving feeling victorious confuses me.
What the fuck is wrong here?
23
Lorelei
Throwing my house keys on the kitchen table, I sort through my mail. Besides a phone bill, there’s not much of interest, so I dump it on the table and grab some cold water from the fridge. The spin class I just returned home from kicked my ass and every muscle aches. Or maybe that was the sex with Ashton yesterday that did that.
Just thinking about the man causes my blood to boil. When he turned up to the meeting with Stan this morning, it threw me. To then discover he’d forced his way into the project irritated me, but when he dictated to me that we’d have to spend time away at resorts together, that just pissed me off.
Why can’t he take no for an answer?