Chapter Five - Asher
Asher
Disdain is seeping from Kayla”s every pore as we walk through the hallways of the stadium, her three feet in front of me, acting like we’re not walking together, demonstratively quickening her steps and looking away whenever we pass anyone.
It’s actually kind of nice to walk alongside her. I don’t have to slow down to accommodate short legs.
I chuckle, making her shoulders tense. I know I”m an asshole, but riling people up is just a hobby of mine, what can I say?
Plus, she makes it so easy. I only need to say a word and she becomes so damn angry.
I’m ninety-five percent it’s because of ‘the incident’ as I like to call our previous history. To be fair, if I were in her shoes, I probably wouldn”t like me either.
I exhale a deep sigh. I”ll have to find a moment where I can apologize properly. But blurting it out right now would be very random. Luca might have had a point when he mentioned the whole waiting for an opening thing. Not that I”d ever tell him that.
”We need to go to the left here, Sweetheart,” I shout after Kayla when she turns right as the hallway splits. Her shoulders tense at the nickname, and I bite my lips when I see her force herself to take a deep breath.
With angry steps and a glare that could set the building on fire, she turns around and stomps in the right direction. ”I really don”t know why you”re in such a hurry; we’ve got to give them a fifteen-minute head start, at the minimum.”
”I know, but I need some fresh air,” she huffs and picks up her pace, the sound of her high heels echoing against the bare walls. ”And maybe a minute in silence, so it would be lovely if you could just . . . you know, shut up for a bit.”
I make a zipping motion in front of my lips but she”s not even looking in my direction. As we approach the exit, she suddenly stops, almost making me run into her. I only catch myself at the last second, my arms flailing as I’m trying to keep my balance.
Making a shushing sound in my direction, she creeps closer on her tiptoes, peeking around the corner to see if Millie and Luca are still in the parking lot. Her hand is outstretched to signal for me to stay behind her.
”I feel like a private detective,” I whisper, and she shushes me again.
”They”re still there. But they’re walking to a taxi,” she whispers, sounding confused. ”I called our driver, why aren”t they waiting for him?”
”No idea,” I whisper back, and she exhales a deep sigh. They’re way out of ear shot, why are we even whispering?
I hear a car door close and a vehicle drive off, and finally, Kayla walks outside.
“Do we have a ride?” she asks with a sigh and leans her back against the wall.
“I can drive.”
From the corner of my eyes, I can see her look me up and down before she shrugs.
“Alright.”
I’ve handed off my keys for a valet to park my car today, so I message Van and he assures me the car will be right out.
The next fifteen minutes pass slowly. She has no interest in keeping up a conversation and truth be told, I don”t know what I”d talk to her about. That fucking interview I gave hangs in the air between us, thickening it like soup.
Much like for Luca the great moment to approach Millie didn”t manifest itself out of thin air, the perfect moment for apologizing won”t present itself on a silver platter, either. I guess it”s best to just get it over with.
”Listen,” I start, not yet sure how exactly to continue as she turns to me, eyebrow raised and apprehension written all over her beautiful face. Sweet caramel eyes meet mine for the first time today and my breath gets stuck in my throat.
I don”t know how I haven”t realized it yet, but she”s striking. Her eyes are fucking beautiful, so full of expression, even if it’s disdain.
No, Asher. Focus. I clear my throat.
”I need to apologize to you.” I look down and shuffle my foot, kicking a tiny piece of gravel. “I was in a weird spot when I gave that interview. I really didn”t mean to make it come across that hateful.”
”Okay,” she says and turns away, looking down at her phone demonstratively.
My head shoots up, taken aback. ”Okay?”
”Well, that wasn”t an apology now, was it?” She glances up from her phone and raises her eyebrow at me. I gulp. ”You said that you needed to apologize, but you didn”t. So what, other than ‘okay,’ am I supposed to say to that?”
”I”m sorry,” I say, biting the inside of my cheeks to keep my smile to myself. ”I shouldn”t have given that interview.”
”Okay.” She puts the phone in her bag before she straightens her back, gathering her hair in her neck, like I’ve just told her how the weather is.
What the hell?
”Well, what else do you want me to do?” I frown, shaking my head confused.
”Listen, Asher, as nice as it is to hear an apology,” she turns to me, crossing her arms in front of her chest and fire in her eyes, ”it doesn”t really mean much.”
”Why?” My eyebrows scrunch together. Why is this woman so goddamn confusing?
”Because you gave your interview for the whole world to see. You opened the door for the media to make a big thing out of it, and in the end, it cost me a film role and a bunch of nerves.” She leans her back against the wall once more. “Don”t get me wrong, I couldn”t give less of a fuck about your opinion and it”s not about losing an acting role, either. You”re entitled to your opinion and you”re also entitled to state it in your interviews. I accept it, but after all that very public drama, a private apology doesn”t quite measure up to the deed you”re apologizing for.” She tilts her head and raises her eyebrow at me. “Don’t you think?”
Goddamnit. She”s right. And I have no idea how to answer to that.
”Close your mouth or you”re going to catch flies.” She rolls her eyes and perks up when she sees a car approaching us. ”That yours?” I nod. “Good. I think enough time has passed. Let’s go.”
Without waiting for me, she opens the passenger door and climbs inside. I thank the valet who brought it over and accept my keys back, chuckling to myself. How does she look so graceful getting into my car? Luca should be around the same height as her and even he struggles with my high car.
”Wow,” I breathe out and a low chuckle escapes me before I rub my hand over my face and circle the vehicle to climb into the driver”s seat. She really is a firecracker.
”Sorry,” she mumbles as I peel out of the parking lot. ”I didn”t want to make you feel bad about apologizing or anything. In fact, thank you for apologizing, but it”s water under the bridge, really.”
”It doesn”t quite seem like it.”
”It can be water under the bridge, even without me being overly fond of you,” she points out with a shrug. ”I have no intention of becoming besties with you. We”ll go to this sham of a double date and we”ll probably see each other on special occasions if our friends become a couple. I can deal with that if you can.”
”Of course,” I assure her, but an uncomfortable feeling is starting to settle in my gut.
There”s something about her. She”s . . . different from most other women I know in the entertainment industry. Which sounds corny as fuck but that doesn’t make it any less true.
I can”t say I know anyone who would push back against an apology—but she has every right to. Now that she”s pointed it out, I can”t help but feel worse about the whole thing. At the same time, my respect for her manifested out of thin air.
Who knows? Maybe in another life and with another context where I don’t fuck it up, we could have been friends.
”Now, let”s get our best friends together,” I say in an attempt to change topics and she nods, her face setting with conviction.
”Something doesn”t seem right,” Kayla points out in a low voice when I let the car roll to a stop into a parking space in front of Fantasia, her eyes darting all over the people passing by the car.
I lean over and try to look around.
”Everything looks normal,” I mumble and let my eyes wander over the people walking by. There’s an uneasy feeling in my stomach and I know exactly where she’s coming from. ”Do you think we should have gotten security?”
”No, it”s probably fine,” she says, but her eyes dart around uneasily. ”Maybe I”m just paranoid. You see no paparazzi?”
”I don”t think so,” I admit. All I see are regular-looking people walking by the entrance to the skyscraper. ”It”s like fifteen meters to the entrance. I’m sure we”ll be fine.”
”Famous last words. But if you say so.” She unbuckles herself and grabs her handbag, ready to jump out.
Something makes me hesitate.
“Hold on,” I stop her, and she glances up at me curiously. “I’ll get out first and take a look. Just to be sure.”
”By all means,” she says dismissively but I catch the hint of relief in her voice. “After you.”
I glance around one more time before I open my car door and get out. Nobody moves and I can’t see anything suspicious as I circle the car to open her door for her. She jumps right out.
But suddenly, five steps toward the entrance, I realize our instincts were right. We”re in trouble.
”Kayla, look here!” Both of us startle at the scream, and before we even realize what”s happening, there”s a bunch of people around us, shoving cameras into our faces. I can’t even tell how many.
Where the fuck did they come from?
Flashes go off, and people are suddenly screaming at us from all sides. I freeze in a moment of panic before adrenaline kicks in and I take charge.
”Fuck,” Kayla curses behind me and shields her eyes from the bright light with her hand. I try my best to push through the people and pave a way for us, when I suddenly feel a tug on my shirt. Looking behind me, I see Kayla, arms close to her body as though she”s shielding herself, squinted eyes darting around full of panic.
”Come on.” I take her hand in mine and pull her after me. ”I got you,” I tell her, but internally, I”m panicking.
This is crazier than anything I”ve ever experienced with paparazzi. Usually, they take a few shots from afar and that’s it.
Not these guys, though. They are pushy and rude and so goddamn loud as they scream into my ear, I can”t even hear my own thoughts.
It”s not easy. I need to push people aside, force a way through the crowd of photographers and now screaming fans who shove their phones into our faces, only for them to walk with us and continue to push.
I”m a tall man and not exactly delicate, but holy shit, I”ve never felt so small. Fuck.
Luckily, the building is used to high-profile guests. After a few moments, I realize security is running out and towards us, parting the sea of people like a pushy group of several Moses’ and giving us way to hurry inside the building.
Once the glass doors close behind us, I pull Kayla further and further inside, to the other side of the lobby, I don”t even care where, as long as we get a wall not made of glass between us and the fucking purge mob outside those doors.
After we round a corner and are definitely out of sight and earshot, I stop, leaning my back against a cold marble wall.
”Are you okay?” I startle when I hear her soft voice next to me. She”s asking me?
”I”m alright,” I say, my voice unusually raspy and clear my throat. ”Just surprised by that.” I make a vague gesture to the corner. “You?”
”You have a scratch there.” She points at my forearm, and I look down, surprised. I hadn”t even realized.
”What the fuck was that?” For a moment, we look at each other, both trying to catch our breath and calming our heart rate.
”That is someone leaking a Siren”s location.” Kayla shrugs and finds a window to fix her hair in the reflection.
”Wait a second. This is a regular thing for you?” I ask her, eyes wide with shock. What the fuck? You’re telling me whenever someone finds out where she is, she needs to deal with that?
”Yeah,” she confirms with a shrug and pats down her skirt. The weird fold thingies in it are all messed up and she makes them right again. ”That”s why we usually pay attention to not have our locations leaked. Or take security along. Honestly, I didn”t think it would be necessary for here, but someone must have blabbed.” She sighs and straightens her back. ”Honestly? I’m pretty sure it was their taxi driver.”
”Possible.” I shake my head as the realization really sets in. You”re telling me that this woman—who might be tall but definitely not equipped at all to face those kinds of masses alone—needs to deal with grown men screaming at her and shoving cameras into her face on a regular basis?
Even with security, what kind of fucked up situation is that?
”Let”s go,” Kayla says loudly, and I realize she”s crossed the little room and is already standing in one of their elevators, holding the door open for me. ”We”re super late already.”