Chapter 25
Harper
“At least this time we have on clothes,” I say.
“For now,” he jokes, lifting himself off me. Then, he reaches under the sink and somehow finds the line I was searching for in seconds. A moment later, the water sputters before stopping. We both sit up, drenched.
“What did I tell you on the phone?” he asks.
“To leave it alone and not try to fix it myself,” I answer.
“And what did you do?” he asks.
“I tried to fix it myself,” I grumble.
Ash unloads a box of tools and gets to work replacing the faucet. “Where did you find this?” he asks, examining the new one.
“In the closet. Why?” I ask, grabbing a mop and a bucket.
“It looks older than the first one…and it’s gold…with a bird for a handle,” he says as he pulls it out of the box. I smile.
“Aunt Blanche was always kind of eccentric,” I say fondly.
“You think?” he asks, going back to work.
I do my best not to watch him as I mop up the kitchen, dining room, and part of the living room.
Ash is in jeans and a long-sleeved gray henley.
It’s interesting watching him do handiwork.
I am used to seeing him in a restaurant, behind a bar, behind a desk, or under a rack of weights.
I am not used to seeing him be a handyman. This is new. It’s hot. I like it.
“Shit,” I say as I accidentally bump into the dining room table while ogling him.
“What did you do?” he asks without looking at me, wrench in hand.
“I knocked all the mail on the floor,” I mutter.
I pick it up and air it out. Half of the envelopes got wet, and I sigh. I set them on the table when a particular envelope catches my eye. It’s handwritten.
“What the hell?” I say as I open it.
“What?” Ash asks, but I am too busy staring at the envelope.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say.
“What is it?” he asks again, but I just stare at the paper in my hand.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”
“Harper! What the hell is it?” Ash rounds the counter to stand next to me, looking over my shoulder at the card.
“Is that a wedding invitation?” he asks confusedly.
“Yep,” I say, biting back my anger as a plethora of other emotions rage through my brain.
“From Daniel?” he asks.
“Looks like it,” I say, jerking my eyes away from the photo of Daniel and the blonde.
“Daniel is marrying Angie?” he asks.
“She’s the bartender I was telling you about that can’t make cocktails worth sh–wait. You know her?”
Asher looks at me and swallows. “I mean, he’s mentioned her. Mentioned that he has a blonde bartender. It was a guess.”
“Yeah, well, you guessed right. And you know what else was right?” I ask, tossing the invite on the table and picking up the mop again.
I need something to do with my hands before I kill something.
“He was into her. I wondered. I always wondered, and this confirms it. He couldn’t have me so he went after the next closest thing.
Jesus. You know, this is probably why he fired me.
I bet he hooked up with Angie after he got back and didn’t want to look at me anymore. ”
“Fuck him,” Asher says, watching me mop furiously as if I am trying to clean the literal pattern off the tiles.
“Fuck them both,” I say. “Daniel and his slut.”
“Exactly,” Asher says.
“Exactly,” I say with less gusto. I stop, set the mop aside, and plop down into one of the dining room chairs. Suddenly, I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me.
“Hey,” Asher says as he walks over to me. “Are you okay?”
I just sit there, breathing heavily as the reality hits me. Tears sting my eyes as I stare off into space.
“Do you still care about him?” he asks, and I blink.
“No. No, I don’t care about him. I want to fucking murder him!
” My voice is shaking, and Ash sits down in front of me.
“I know her, you know? This whole time I thought he loved me, wanted to be married to me, when really…none of it was genuine. And now they invite me to their wedding? What the fuck?”
“So go,” Ash says, and I just give him a look.
“What?”
“Go to the wedding. Show them you don’t care.”
I laugh. “I am not going to Daniel and Angie’s wedding. Not alone. No way.”
“So don’t go alone, bring a date.” Ash reaches across the table, taking my hand in his. “Go with me.” Ash is smiling, but I just stare at him.
“You want to go to Daniel’s wedding as a couple?” I ask.
“Think about it. What would piss him off more than the man who stole his bride being her date at his next wedding?”
It’s crazy. “You have a point,” I admit. Then I smile. As the pieces come together in my head, I realize just how angry that would make him. And for very petty, yet very deserving reasons, that makes me happy.
“Yes,” I say, standing. “It’s a good idea, but it has to be believable. He needs to believe that we are in love. It’s the icing on the cake, and we are going to smother him with it because fuck him for being a liar. If there’s anything I can’t and won’t tolerate, it’s a liar.”
I am smiling, but Ash looks less than excited. Then, he takes a deep breath and lets it out. “Listen, Harper…”
“You’re not going to do it,” I deflate.
“No, no. I’ll do it. But I really need to come clean about something,” he says. “The reason I crashed your wedding.”
“You mean it wasn’t out of being desperately and incandescently in love with me?” I half joke, but he’s not smiling.
He takes a labored breath, and I realize I should probably be sitting down for this.
“I knew about Angie,” he says. I stare blankly at him, holding my breath for a moment.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I knew that he was sleeping around. Cheating on you. I knew that he wanted to spite me and Jaylen. He always has to have what he’s told he can’t, and that’s why he wanted to marry you.”
“He was cheating on me,” I echo.
“I’m sorry, Harper. Truly. I should have told you.”
“Of course he was,” I say. Then I look at him. “Of course he was. I mean, it’s obvious, isn’t it?”
Asher’s brow furrows. “You mean…you’re not mad?” he asks.
“Oh, I’m fucking furious,” I scream. “But not at you. I suspected it all along. What’s worse, I actually thought that marrying me would put an end to it.
It’s half the reason I agreed to elope. I subconsciously knew he was fucking around.
I thought that if I married him, he would be loyal, and that would be that. But fuck him.”
“Yeah,” Ash agrees, still looking surprised that I am taking it the way I am. A part of me did know. And now, now all I want is revenge.
“No, we are going to this wedding, and we are going together as a couple,” I say.
“A couple that is in love,” he adds.
“Yes,” I agree. Then a smile crawls across my face. A smile I don’t trust, and neither should he. “Better yet,” I say. “A couple who spent three days in Costa Rica alone…and eloped.”
“Holy shit.” He laughs.
And so do I.