Chapter 6 Ashton
ASHTON
My eyes dart to the clock on the wall above the framed picture of Theo shaking hands with the mayor of Emberfield like it’s magically going to change.
It’s thirty-seven minutes past nine o’clock.
It’s the middle of January—too early for daylight saving.
It’s not wrong. My phone and computer have the same time.
I tap my fingers on my desk in a steady rhythm.
She’s thirty-seven—now thirty-eight minutes late for work, and she’s ignored every single text I’ve sent her for the last half hour.
I’ve never had anger issues. I’m pretty much the only carefree person in my family and among my friends.
My parents are always worried about the image of the company.
My brother’s too serious. My sister was forced to grow up too fast. Skylar is in her own head.
So is Emory for that matter. Nate’s a control freak and Declan…
I’m not even sure how to describe whatever my best friend has going on, but it certainly isn’t lighthearted.
I’m the one who cracks jokes and keeps everyone from going off the deep end.
The world has too much darkness to not at least try to be the light for the people I care about.
But Allie Montgomery? She takes that light and twists it until it’s pure fire.
She doesn’t just make my blood boil; she makes it explode in random eruptions like the fucking sun.
I clench my fist as I watch the minutes continue to tick by.
She has the nerve to be late after that little stunt she pulled last night?
I was so pissed standing there at the door as she flipped her hair over her shoulder, gathering her belongings, unfazed as if she didn’t just tell me to go fuck myself.
I had to turn around and lock myself in my office before I could say something I would really regret.
“You know we’re pretty casual here,” a voice breaks through my furious thoughts. “You don’t have to wear a suit every day. Especially Fridays”
Skylar.
I throw up a wall of casual indifference.
It’s not that I don’t trust Skylar enough to be vulnerable with her, but I’m not in the mood to get into it right now.
She’s been the picture of a supportive friend, leaving the door open to talk when I’m ready but not pushing.
I chose my words carefully when I told her as much of the truth as I could muster without getting into the gritty details.
I thought there might have been something there with Allie, but I was wrong. She let me leave it at that.
“You know I love suits,” I pout. “Don’t ruin this boss persona for me.”
“Never,” she teases. “So I’ll be filling in for Allie today. She called out. Don’t even think about sending me over to The Roasted Bean, though. I’m way too busy for whatever games you’re playing with her.”
“What?” I say a little louder than I should.
“I’m not getting your fancy espresso,” she repeats. “You can drink the regular coffee like the rest of—”
“No, I mean…she called out? Why?”
“Said she’s feeling under the weather. Her article was submitted on time Wednesday, and it was really good. Everything went off without a hitch with the printer, and this week’s issue is being distributed as we speak.” She slaps down a newspaper on my desk. “Here’s the file copy.”
“That’s great, but—”
“Ash, Fridays are easy. We have our staff meeting at eleven to review the week and then it’s just research and outlining for next week’s articles, which Allie promised she would do from home.
We don’t need her here. Let her have the day.
” She eyes me with some reluctance. “You’ve been riding her pretty hard this week. She needs a break.”
My eyes immediately snap to hers, and we both wince at her poor choice of words. “I’ll be in my office if you need me,” she says, slinking out before I can respond.
Like fuck am I letting Allie have the day off.
She’s not getting a break. She made her bed and now she gets to lie in it.
Or get out of it, depending on how I find her.
There’s no way she’s actually sick. She’s faking, and I’m going to relish catching her in one of her little lies.
Does that make me immature and spiteful? Absolutely. Do I give a shit? No.
Allie’s car isn’t in the driveway when I pull up to her house. Not a good sign. I’m about to knock on her door anyway when I see Emory walking down her steps toward her mailbox. She looks up when I close my car door and immediately scurries back up her steps.
Also not a good sign.
“I see you, Emory,” I call out.
“Oh, hey, Ash,” she says as she turns back around, nervously rubbing her baby bump. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m guessing by the fact that you ran at the mere sight of me, you know exactly why I’m here.”
Now she’s fidgeting with her engagement ring, twisting it around in circles on her finger.
“Where is she, Em?”
“Where is wh—”
“I’m not in the mood for games,” I warn.
Emory has become one of my best friends in the short time I’ve known her.
We met last spring after our not-so-well-meaning parents tried to set us up.
She agreed to go on a fake date with me to appease my parents, and the rest is history.
We’ve always been honest with each other.
It’s what drew me to her. There are usually no games.
No bullshit. Except for where Allie is concerned.
Emory will protect that girl to the ends of the earth and vice versa.
I can’t say I blame her, but it’s pissing me off right now.
Suddenly, her nervous energy morphs into irritation. Her fingers still on her ring and she exhales sharply, her lips pressing into a thin line.
“Look, I don’t know what happened between you two.” The words come out clipped. “You told me to tell Allie about this job, then you randomly became her boss, and now you’re making her life hell.”
“I’m not making her life hell. She’s my assistant. She’s in her probationary period and hasn’t accrued time off yet. I thought she would like to know that she’s going to be docked for today if she doesn’t show up.”
Emory’s eyes widen, and she places a hand firmly on her hip. “Are you serious?”
“I didn’t make the rule. Don’t shoot the messenger.”
“She didn’t sign on to be an assistant, and you know it, Ash.”
“Where is she?” I repeat a little more firmly this time, ignoring her comment. I love Em to death, but I don’t have time to argue with her about this right now.
“Where’s who?” a deep voice asks behind Emory.
Luke circles her from behind, resting his hands on her bump and placing a light kiss on her cheek.
I say, “Allie,” at the same time Emory says, “No one.”
“Oh, she’s not back from Nate’s yet?” he asks casually.
Emory turns her head, cutting her fiancé with a glare.
Meanwhile, my stomach does a nosedive. What the hell is Allie doing at Nate’s?
The normal, rational side of my brain tells me to let this go.
Head back to work and let her have the day like Skylar said.
She really will be docked by HR unless I sign off on her working from home, though.
I would have done just that if I had found her curled up on her sofa, sniffling with a cup of tea next to her.
Instead, she’s at Nate’s doing God knows what.
“What?” Luke looks genuinely confused.
Emory breaks free of his hold and stomps up the stairs with an irritated groan.
“Baby, what did I do?” Luke calls after her. “Where are you going? We’re going to be late for the ultrasound. Is it the hormones again?”
Yikes. Wouldn’t want to be him. I also wouldn’t want to be Allie once I’m done with her.
Nate lives in a luxury condo on the other side of town, but it takes me less than ten minutes to get there.
I knock on the door, but no one answers.
You have to be kidding me. Is no one going to answer me today?
! I don’t know what makes me do it. Obviously, Nate keeps his front door locked.
Yet, something inexplicable makes me reach out and press the lever on the handle down, and to my utter shock, it creaks open.
“Hello?” I call out. No response.
I walk deeper into the entryway and gently close the door behind me. That’s when I hear the muffled sounds—like moaning.
Did she seriously call out of work so she could fuck her best friend’s brother?
A chant starts in my head telling me to turn around. This is weird, Ashton. Turn around right now. You just broke into someone’s house and now you’re what? Going to walk in on your assistant having sex? Turn. The. Fuck. Around.
I don’t. The anger that pounds at my chest propels me forward as the sounds increase in volume. That’s when I hear their voices.
“C’mon. Give me one more,” Nate rasps.
“Motherfucker,” Allie screams. I honestly can’t tell if it’s in pleasure or pain.
I reach the closed door, and I can hear Allie’s soft pants like she’s coming down from something. I grasp the handle, and it singes my hand like a fire poker.
Don’t do it.
“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Nate says, chuckling.
What the fuck?
What little rational thoughts occupied my mind a second ago have evaporated into thin air, and I turn the handle and swing the door open.
Allie and Nate look up in shock. They are both fully clothed in workout gear.
Allie is lying on an exercise mat, while Nate is frozen solid with small weights in his hands, as if he were in the middle of putting them back on the rack next to him.
I glance around at the mats, the treadmill, the free weights—his home gym.
Relief floods my body at the realization. He was helping her work out.
Allie’s shock melts into anger, and she stands up in a huff.
“What the hell are you doing here, Rich Boy?”
“Alexandra,” I warn.
“What?” Her hands float to her hips, her eyes narrowing into thin slits.
Nate snorts and looks on, wholeheartedly amused, but he has the decency to at least try to hide his smirk. Allie notices it and points a finger at him. “Don’t even start with me.”
“Sorry, man,” I say to Nate. “I tried knocking, but no one answered.”
“You know, normally I would be pissed, but I kind of want to see where all of this is going.” He twirls his finger around and leans back against the wall, crossing his long legs at the ankles.
“Now is the time you decide not to care?” Allie yells, throwing her hands up. “Mr. Overprotective is all of a sudden going to let it slide that a man is stalking me and broke into his home to find me?”
“It’s just Ashton,” Nate says, shrugging, but that somehow makes Allie even angrier, and she stomps across the room to grab her water bottle.
Tiny droplets dribble down her mouth as she chugs it aggressively.
She wipes her chin with the back of her hand and slams the bottle down.
Sweat glistens on her neck, and the dampness coats the bottom edges of her long, dark brown ponytail.
Nate clears his throat, clearly having been watching me watch her.
“Hey, Nate. I know it’s your house and I just barged in here, but do you mind giving us a minute?” I ask.
He nods his head, but as he goes to leave, Allie grabs his bicep.
“Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of Nate,” she says. Nate sighs and goes back to his place by the wall.
“Okay, fine.” I’m unable to hide my exasperation anymore. “I came to tell you that you will not be paid for today. You have not yet earned any sick days, and seeing as you’re faking anyway, and clearly not working from home as you told Skylar, I can’t sign off on it.”
Allie’s fury doubles as she stomps over so she’s standing right in front of me.
“I was taking a fucking break from work to exercise. I never said I was sick. I said I was under the weather, which if you must know, is because I’m having a really painful period.
Exercise helps. Not that it’s any of your goddamn business.
But you traipsing around town, looking for me, trying to ‘catch’ me in a lie is completely unprofessional.
I wonder what HR would think of you stalking one of your employees. Not to mention breaking and enter—”
“I didn’t break anything,” I say louder than necessary. “I entered. The door was unlocked. I wasn’t traipsing—”
“Oh, yeah? How did you find me then? I can’t believe Emory told you.”
“She didn’t,” I say. The last thing I want is Em getting in trouble for this whole mess.
“Luke accidentally let it slip.” I rub the tip of my nose between my fingers.
This girl is going to be the death of me.
“If you hadn’t ignored my calls and texts all morning, I wouldn’t have had to hunt you down. ”
“Sorry if answering you wasn’t my top priority when I was doubled over in pain!
” She throws her hands up again and sits on the weight bench.
I look over to Nate for help, but he holds his hands up as if he’s just an innocent bystander.
Did she really take off work because she’s in pain?
Or is she bullshitting me again? I never know with her.
Either way, there’s a part—a small part—of me that feels bad if she really was exercising to feel better.
“I didn’t know,” I sigh. I have no idea what the hell else to say. “If you took off work because of pain, and if you promise to work from home for the rest of the day, I’ll see what I can do about HR.”
“Was that—” she narrows her eyes and crosses her arms. “Was that your weird, roundabout way of apologizing to me?”
“I don’t think so.” I look at my wrist as if there’s a watch on it. “Anyway, I’d love to stay and chat, but I have actual work to do.”
Allie’s eyes flash with anger and something else I can’t put my finger on.
There are small beads of sweat above her brow and just underneath her hairline.
Her cheeks are still flushed, her lips slightly swollen, and despite the fact that she was just working out, she smells sweet with the faintest bit of earth mixed in.
Her bright blue eyes scan me with such intensity it feels like she can see into my soul.
She’s not wearing her glasses. She must have put on contacts.
God, she’s breathtaking. I have to force myself to look away.
“Anyway, hope you’re feeling better by Monday. I’d hate for this to become a pattern.” I emphasize the last word, getting my point across.
She goes to open her mouth, but I don’t give her the chance.
“Nate,” I tip my chin up to him. “Good to see you, as always.”
He gives me a curt nod back and I’m gone before I can even spare Allie Montgomery another glance.