Chapter 30 – Asher
Thirty
PRESENT DAY
ASHER
I need to talk to you.
Not about you or me.
It’s about the wedding… Text me back.
Irefreshed my screen for the umpteenth time this morning, only seeing a “message read” from Katie, but no reply.
I stood outside your villa for three hours… Where are you?
Katie…
Message read…
My jaw tightened.
Sighing, I paced the groomsmen suite—dragging a hand through my hair, unable to stay still for more than a few seconds, hating that it was the only place I could find peace. My suite was teasing me with thoughts of Katie, and walking around the resort only made me wonder where she was.
Click. Click. Click.
I followed that sudden sound to the dressing room and spotted the senior tailor laying my brother’s tuxedo across the chaise. He smoothed the collar and the breast pockets in the exact same way he’d done it yesterday.
“Is it really necessary for you to keep doing that?” I asked. “You’ve done the same thing three days in a row.”
“If this were any other wedding, maybe.” He smiled. “But this is a Katie Elizabeth wedding, sir.”
“No, it’s a Chris and Michelle Brooks wedding,” I said. “They’re the ones getting married, and I can assure you they won’t notice whatever minor presses you make.”
“The expectations are sky-high when Miss Elizabeth is involved.” He ignored my comment, smoothing the fabric. “No detail is too small, and perfection is expected from top to bottom.”
“So, you’ve worked with her before?”
“Twenty-eight times and counting.” He smiled. “She only refers me to those who can splurge on an on-site tailor, and each wedding is a highlight for me.”
“Because you get paid a ridiculous rate to tinker with suits that are already finished?”
“No.” He picked up a tie and held it up to the light. “It’s because I love being part of a love story, even if I’m only featured in a few lines of it.”
Another lost soul from the lovesick and deranged department…
“I’m sorry for bothering you, sir.” I walked toward the door. “I’m sure your twenty-ninth time with Katie will be perfect like the rest. Have a good night.”
“It’s a pity that Miss Elizabeth spends more time working on other people’s love stories than her own,” he said as I twisted the doorknob. “Don’t you think?”
“No. That’s what happens when you’re Type-A and spend most of your time in fantasyland instead of reality,” I said. “It’s not shocking to me at all.”
“Oh?” He set down a pair of cufflinks and stood up straight. “Is that what you really think?”
“I don’t have a reason to lie to someone I just met.”
“Then you’re lying to yourself.” His expression shifted from cordial to accusatory, and the room suddenly felt ten times smaller.
The words landed harder than they should’ve.
His eyes narrowed, and I saw a glint of recognition.
“Have we met before?” I asked.
“Not directly, no.” He paused. “But even if you weren’t the best man for this wedding, I’d know your face anywhere. It’s very hard to forget.”
“I’m not into men, no offense.”
He rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I meant, Mr. Brooks.”
“So, how do you know me?”
“Not by choice, but I’ll show you.”
As he crossed the room, I silently flipped through my mental rolodex of clients. I couldn’t place him as a relative to any of them or any of the close friends.
He slipped a hand into his breast pocket and pulled out one of Katie’s leather-bound “Asher-proof” billfolds.
“Oh,” I said, shrugging. “Makes sense why you would have one of those.”
“You never ruined any of the events I was involved in,” he said. “Yet, anyway.”
“I have quite a few coming up, so that might change.”
His lips curved into a smile, but it fell within seconds.
“I never opened the notes she kept inside this thing until a year and a half ago.” He handed the billfold to me. “And then I realized why she struggled so much trying to start a love story with someone.”
“It’s because she’s highly immature, emotionally volatile, and borderline insane.”
“Insanely stuck on you,” he said. “Although I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”
“She gives all her staff these billfold things,” I said. “This doesn’t have anything to do with her not being able to be in a relationship.”
“Except she must’ve given me her version by mistake because there are some notes I’m sure she didn’t mean for me to read.” He looked at me. “I think you should read them.”
“Seeing as though she’s ignoring me, I’m not interested in anything Katie Elizabeth-related past this Sunday.”
“Read her fucking notes.” He narrowed his eyes. “And then if you don’t do anything about them, stay the hell away from her after this wedding, so me and the other vendors can finally set her up with someone she deserves…”
“Come again?”
“You can get out now.” He motioned for me to open the door. “I need to focus on perfection.”
Walking away from me, he returned to the chaise and picked up a measuring tape.
As much as I wanted to say something else, I held back and left the room. The weight of the billfold felt heavier than it should’ve. I took the long way across the resort—hoping to catch a glimpse of Katie, but all I caught were glimpses of crew members setting up final things for the wedding.
By the time I returned to my suite, Katie still hadn’t messaged me back. And for some odd reason, my chest was aching at the thought of her never speaking to me again.
No, that pain is probably because of something I ate…
I poured two shots of whiskey and sank down in my chair. Then I pulled out the tailor’s billfold.
I stared at it for a few seconds before finally opening it.
Inside, I saw my picture and the usual rules about reporting me if I was seen.
There were no other notes.
I snapped it shut, but I noticed a card sticking out from under my photo. When I tugged it, I realized there was an entire stack, and each one had a time, date, and the wedding where we’d crossed paths.
On the back was her handwriting…
Why can’t the universe KILL this man? Like, WTF gives?
How does he keep getting away with this shit?
My grip tightened on the card—hard enough to crease it.
Okay… I hated this couple anyway and they didn’t need to be together, but… He’s still an ass for ruining my event.
I kissed him and felt a high I’ve never felt with any other man… Like, seriously. I think about him a lot more than I should (even though I HATE him), and I wonder…
I set aside my shot glasses and organized the cards by date, reading them all until I reached the last one.
Is it possible to have feelings for someone you despise? I won’t let him kiss me again.
I’ll push him out of my life once and for all after this time…
I exhaled slowly, taking in her words longer than I had any right to.