7. Ashton
ASHTON
W hat is my sister doing here?
More importantly, how did she find me?
Cecily enters the shelter, and I’m taken aback.
Same blonde hair—albeit slightly less platinum—same figure, same car…
and yet, my sister looks nothing like the one I’d left over five years ago.
She’s dressed casually in a plain white tee, partially tucked into jeans, and is that a paint splotch?
She’s paired the ensemble with flat sandals.
I repeat, flat sandals. My sister never goes anywhere without heels on.
She removes her sunglasses, and I barely refrain from gasping. She has zero makeup on. This woman may resemble my sister, but there’s no way my sister would willingly go out in public without an ounce of makeup.
“Cecily?”
Her steps are slow and timid, again, not at all like my bold, assertive older sister. “Hi, sis.”
I blink. And blink again. I must be hallucinating.
She smiles, unsure, self-conscious. I don’t trust it one bit. I peer around her, scanning the parking lot for cameras. I don’t see any, which is slightly confounding, but perhaps it’s her scheduled day off. “What are you doing here?”
Her face immediately wilts. “I wanted to see you.”
I cross my arms. “Why? After all this time?”
She deflates, and her arms fall to her sides. “You changed your name. Your number. You disappeared. How was I supposed to find you?”
“That was the point.”
She winces, and I almost feel bad about my tone, but she’s had five years to find me and apologize.
She’s had the funds to obtain a private investigator to find me—same as my mom—and yet, neither ever did.
It’s not like I traveled far. While there were no qualms in my heart about leaving Mom, I did, on occasion, miss my sister.
At least, the relationship we had before the show took off.
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?”
“Yes! I know that’s hard to believe after all this time, but I am. I have been. I’ve been wanting to reconnect for some time. Then I saw you on the news.”
My stupid, fumbling interview. I can’t believe it even aired!
“I thought it was divine intervention.” She takes a step forward.
I take a step back.
“There’s so much I want to tell you. So much to talk about. And clarify about our past?—”
“There’s nothing I care to talk about from our past.”
My sister looks like I just kicked her puppy, and guilt pinches me.
“I just want to fix this. Fix us.”
Over her shoulder, I spot Marissa pulling into the parking lot. I’ve never been more grateful for her early arrival to work for once. This time, I step toward my sister, and her face starts to light up, like I’ve just granted her a wish.
I blame my inability to hurt people for the words that slip from my mouth. “Okay. We’ll talk.”
“Really?” She squeals and clasps her hands together.
“Yes. Really.” I put my arm around her shoulders and spin her toward the door. “But you need to go.” Marissa waves as she approaches the door. I wave back. “I have to work.”
“Oh, right. Of course. I don’t want to interrupt.”
Marissa enters the shelter and I hold my breath, praying she doesn’t recognize my sister. The last thing I need is for someone fangirling over her right now. I need her out of here before questions start flowing.
“Morning.” Marissa stays glued to her phone, her thumbs speedily tapping away on the screen.
Oh, bless those self-absorbed teens.
“Morning, Marissa. Would you mind letting out the dogs in the hallway kennels first?”
She continues walking into the shelter, her eyes still fixed to her phone. “Got it.” She enters the swinging doors and disappears into the hallway.
I release my breath.
“Can I have your number? I’ll text you, and we can set something up?” My sister is downright giddy.
I open the front door. “I still know your number. I’ll call you.”
She pauses in the doorway. “You promise?”
“Cross my heart.” I do the gesture—one we’d done together as kids.
Her expression softens. “Good. Please do.” She smiles and slips on her sunglasses. She reaches out and squeezes my hand. “I miss you.”
Something loosens around my heart as I look down at our clasped hands. A piece of me that’s been missing clicks into place. But it’s too soon for such admissions. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Sounds good.”
My hand is numb as I lift it into the air and wave, staring after her car as she pulls out of the parking lot.
There’s a clatter, followed by a thump and a jiggling of a door handle. “Ashton?”
“Oh, dog biscuits!” I completely forgot about Griffin. I rush to the storage closet and swing open the door. His body barrels into mine, nearly knocking me over. His hands clasp my waist and hold me upright. “I’m so sorry about that.”
He’s breathing heavily. “What was that all about?”
“I panicked!”
His hair is disheveled and his eyes are wide.
“I’m so sorry. It was my sister.”
“Wow. You really don’t want me to meet your family?” His tone is playful, but there’s genuine surprise in his expression. His hands are still on my waist, our bodies closer than the social norm.
“No. It’s not that. I mean, it is.” How can I explain without actually explaining?
“Griffin Ford!” Marissa shrieks from across the room.
I jump back from him.
He looks down at me instead of the shrieking girl racing toward us from the back.
I mouth, “Sorry.”
His lips twitch just before Marissa bursts in between us like an eager, overgrown puppy. “Ohmygosh. Ohmygosh. Ohmygosh. My friends are never going to believe this!”
I may have dodged the fangirling over my sister, but it doesn’t appear I can be so lucky twice in one day.
“I’m such a huge fan. I love Malibu Shores . I’m so crushed there’s not going to be another season.”
“Glad you enjoy the show.”
“Are you kidding? I freaking love it!”
Marissa clutches her phone to her chest with both hands, staring moon-eyed at Griffin. He chuckles, and I creep toward the counter, walking backward. Griffin’s smiling, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes.
“What are you doing here?” Marissa asks.
“Adopting a dog. Actually, I need to finish some paperwork.”
I glance up.
His focus is entirely on me.
My heart does that weird pitter-patter thing again.
“Oh, right! Totally! Makes sense. Um, would you mind taking a selfie with me?”
He doesn’t hesitate, as though he already knew this question was coming. “Sure.”
They lean in together and take a quick picture.
“Thank you so much! My friends are going to flip out!”
He laughs. “No problem.” Griffin walks to the counter and grabs the pen from his paperwork.
Marissa continues to stand there, staring at him with the goofiest grin on her face.
I bring her back to earth. “Would you mind rinsing and refreshing all the water bowls?”
“Mm-hmm.”
I snap my fingers a couple of times. “Marissa?”
She turns to me, wide-eyed. “Hm? Yeah?”
“The water bowls? Can you take care of those?”
“Oh. Like right now?”
“Yes. Right now.”
“Got it.” She walks backward slowly toward the swinging doors and waves. “It was so nice to meet you, Griffin.” She giggles and disappears.
I shake my head.
“What?” Griffin’s asks, looking at me. Why does his gaze have to be quite so … direct? It’s unnerving.
I dart my eyes to the desk. “Nothing. It’s just that people forget that even if you’re on TV, you’re a real person, too.”
He rests his elbows on the counter, leaning closer. His already familiar cedar scent wafts my direction, and I resist leaning into it.
“That so?”
My ears heat as I rearrange the desk that’s already in perfect order. “Yeah. You’re just like everyone else.”
“Ouch. You wound me.”
His teasing draws my eyes to his. They crinkle in the corners, filled with humor.
I place both my palms on the desk and hold his gaze. “Yes. You’re nothing special.”
His smile falls slightly.
“What I mean is, you have feelings. You have a life—a personal one. Just because you’re on TV, people think it gives them the right to invade your space and personal business all the time. It’s not right.”
His expression changes. A note of surprise. He opens his mouth, but I interrupt him, not comfortable where this conversation is driving us.
“Are you done with the paperwork?” I need to get this man out of here and out of my life. I’ve already had enough drama this morning to last me weeks.
He looks down at the clipboard and signs the bottom. “Yup. Looks like it.”
I remove the clipboard from the counter and hold it close like a barrier. “Great. Looks like you’re an official pet owner. Congrats.”
“Great.” His eyes twinkle. “Then it looks like I’m in need of a dog trainer.”
I yank open the desk drawer and sort through our stash of business cards. “I’m happy to provide you with some suggestions.”
“But not you?”
I swallow, and my palms begin to sweat. “I’d love to help Roxy, it’s just?—”
“It’s just what?”
I exhale and halt my search, meeting his gaze. “A matter of time. Frankly, I don’t have much of it.”
His dimple appears. “I can work around your schedule.”
“Oh, that isn’t necessary.”
“I want to. I believe in you and your abilities. I think you’d be great for Roxy.” He pulls out his wallet and removes a business card. “Here’s my number. Think it over. If you’re interested, text me. Call me. Whatever.” He holds out the card.
I eye it like it’s going to bite me. Then again, putting myself within the vicinity of someone so famous might truly bite me in the rear. Again.
The front door swings open. “Good morning!” Lynn pulls the Open sign’s chain. “How are you thi—” She spins around and sees Griffin. “Oh, well, hello again, dear. Everything work out okay with the dog? Did you bring her back this morning?”
“Actually, I decided to adopt her.”
Her face lights up like it’s Christmas. “Oh, wonderful. Wonderful. Such great news. Congratulations on becoming a pet owner.”
“Thank you. I’m just trying to line up a trainer.” He looks at me.
I dart my eyes away.
“I see.” Lynn studies the two of us. “We do have an excellent list of trainers in the area.”
“I had my mind set on one in particular.”
“Right.” Lynn comes around the counter and stands next to me. “We’re happy to help in any way we can.”
“Great.” Griffin hands his card to Lynn. “See if you can convince this one to be my trainer.” He removes his key fob from his pocket. “I appreciate you ladies.” He looks at me. “Ashton, I hope to hear from you soon.”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
He walks out the door.
It’s not until his car is out of the parking lot that Lynn speaks.
“Oh, honey, you have to do it.”
A big part of me wants to say yes, but the other part is still reeling from my sister’s reappearance and the reminders of everything I left behind. Can I really jump back into that realm? It doesn’t matter how nice Griffin seems, I’m always the one who gets hurt.