Chapter 25
“I know, I know. When you hear Ashwood, you think luxury. Spending money, not asking for it. And when you see me, you’ve probably got at least one headline in mind that’s so awful, you’d think the author felt personally victimized by me.
” The crowd laughed, and from behind the podium, Elliot’s gaze flickered across the sea of people at tables in front of him.
“Baby Ashwood jet-sets through Brazil again. Does Elliot Ashwood know he’s from New York?
Why-oh-why is she still dating Elliot, when he’s never home?
” Listing them in a booming voice, the guests got louder.
Allegra, sitting opposite me, hid behind her hands—one of those headlines was about her, after all.
“But.” I looked back to Elliot. “We’ve been doing these fundraisers for over a year now, so you know all of that already.
” More chuckles around me. “I’m in South America for reforestation and conservation efforts.
In Europe to talk on stages and raise awareness.
And traveling through the US to lobby for everything the Ashwood Foundation stands for. ”
The Ashwood Foundation. Elliot was behind the fucking Ashwood Foundation.
If I’d known that, his sustainability suggestion would’ve never blindsided me.
I would’ve suggested it myself, just to be one step ahead of him.
If I’d known this was an Ashwood Foundation fundraiser, I wouldn’t have been surprised about the masses of A-, B-, and C-list celebrities running around this place, either.
Anyone who’s anyone in New York City sat at one of those round tables.
Politicians, actors, musicians. Plus me.
Front and center at the one reserved for friends and family, sharing it with Allegra, her parents—whom I tried not to fangirl over—and Rowen, here for emotional support. His words, not mine.
From what I could tell, Elliot needed no emotional support whatsoever. He seemed born to stand on a stage and talk, talk, talk. Make people laugh and aww at just the right time to eventually get money from them.
It was obviously working.
People were bidding on a year’s worth of dinners at the Ashwood restaurants, a weeklong ski experience at their hotel in Aspen, and everything in between.
The numbers he was shouting around the room were, quite frankly, incomprehensible to me.
Dollar amounts I’d never dreamed of having in my life, never mind donating.
So, instead of focusing on the money currently in the room with me or listening to what Elliot was saying, I just watched him.
The way he laughed into the microphone at a bidder dropping out, tsking before he added, “Jerry, I expected more from you!” The crowd roared with laughter.
He paced that stage like he owned it, shaking his head when it took too long for paddles to rise, consequently making more of them come up.
After every joke, his eyes flicked to our table, just for a second. And, because I’d had a glass of the best wine I’d ever tasted, I liked to pretend it was me he was looking at, not Allegra. Not his brother.
“Alright, alright!” His words quieted the lively atmosphere.
“We’ve got one more surprise coming up. Trust me, we’re going out with a bang.
I’m not biased,” he added. “But before that, we’re going to take a short break.
Get a drink, check your bank accounts.” More laughs.
“We’ll continue wrapping this up in fifteen.
Dinner will be served immediately after the last bid is logged. ”
Elliot flew off stage, aiming straight for us. Me. He stopped right in front of my chair, in a hurry that made it seem like he really needed to pee and came to tell me. Instead, he said, “Come with me.”
I blinked at him, and Rowen, who had already begun to get up, sank back into his chair, a confused furrow between his brows that matched mine.
Unnecessarily, I asked, “Me?”
Because he was ignoring Allegra trying to talk to him, her parents congratulating him, and Rowen, who’d parted his lips to say something. Elliot was looking at me, so, yes, it’s me he was asking to come with him.
I got up, still not quite sure how to feel. My hand closed around his, and while he dragged me through the room, I wondered how to read anything platonic into us, touching in a room full of people whose eyes were definitely following us.
A trap, perhaps. He was finally sick of my face front and center and was planning on keeping me locked up in the backstage space we’d just entered until the evening was over. I couldn’t even get myself to believe it.
A few people in all black, wearing “ASHWOOD FOUNDATION” shirts, were running around the room, getting ready to serve dinner. Elliot’s voice startled them out of whatever it was they were doing. “Excuse me, guys,” he said. “Could we have a minute?”
He didn’t usually rush his words like this. He took time to enunciate, to drag them out or roll his eyes in sync with them. He always had time.
Not tonight.
They scattered, and he slammed the door shut behind the last person.
My brow creased in worry. “Are you alright—?”
“I’m sorry.” What had seemed like confident strides on that stage now seemed more like anxious pacing. Up and down, hands fidgeting, Elliot was pacing. “Just needed a minute.”
“With me?” I asked carefully.
He came to a halt, studying me like he didn’t quite have an explanation for it either.
“Apparently.” A step closer. “Sorry. Usually, this is Rowen’s part of the evening.
It’s just the crowds. Whether I’m in them or speaking to them .
. . doesn’t really make a difference. Just gets to be a lot sometimes. ”
“Nothing to apologize for. Another minute, and the Amatos might have eaten me alive.” It was a desperate attempt to lighten the air and distract him from what seemed very much like an anxious spiral.
Elliot frowned, reaching for my hands. Fidgeting with mine instead of his own fingers. Then, like he’d had a lightning idea, he said, “I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything.”
A slow smile spread across his face. He took another step closer—toes to toes, chest to chest, nose to nose. “I’m bidding off me and my brother next,” he said.
“Does Rowen know that?”
He ignored my question. “I need you to win.”
“Your brother?”
He rolled his eyes. “Me.”
I didn’t know why my heartbeat picked up at the notion. Why I purposely furrowed my brow but my lips tipped into a smile anyway. “Why?”
His hand fell out of mine when he shrugged. “So that Allegra doesn’t.”
“She’d do that?” Bidding on your ex-boyfriend seemed . . . a tad too humiliating. I hadn’t expected her to take initiative like that.
“As a joke. Sure. They’d love it.” A look at the watch around his wrist, and he sighed. “But I want you to win. Not some old lady, not my ex-girlfriend. Not her parents, either.”
That made me snort, though I sobered quickly. “I don’t have the kind of money you’ll be worth, Ashwood.”
“Thank you for saying that,” he teased. A knock on the door let us know he was probably needed back on stage. “I’ll be funding your elaborate purchase. A girl’s gotta indulge sometimes.”
Indulging in Elliot Ashwood seemed like one hell of a luxury.
“You don’t have any money, either,” I pointed out.
“Don’t worry about my finances, Maeve. Just win me.”
Then he opened the door, and without another word, he was whisked toward the stage by one of the foundation assistants. I followed, tried to swallow the nerves coming up as I got to my seat in sync with his first words. “Alright, back for the grand finale!”
Every trace of the anxious wreck in the backroom was gone, almost like that version of Elliot had never existed. Suddenly, I was wondering whether it had happened at all. He seemed so different, I couldn’t be sure.
“This one might be particularly interesting for the bachelorettes among you.” Rogue whistles startled me out of my trance, eyes snapping up from the paddle previously untouched in front of me.
Rowen leaned toward me, bumping his shoulder against mine the way Elliot always did. It sent a fluttery feeling from my chest down into my stomach. “You good?”
“Peachy!” I sounded as bad as Mimi when that southern accent slipped. A clear sign I was nervous. Incredibly fucking nervous.
“Alright.” Elliot’s eyes snapped to our table again. “He doesn’t know of his luck yet, but could my brother Rowen please join me on stage?”
He stilled beside me, looked around like he’d just been caught stealing a three-carat diamond. It seemed to click a second later. Rowen muttered, “That bastard,” under his breath, then got up with a big smile, waving as he made his way onto the stage.
Despite their contrasting hair colors, when looking at them side by side, their resemblance was uncanny.
Same nose, same cheekbones, and same jawline that could cut glass.
Same mannerisms, above all else. Rowen crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned toward the microphone in Elliot’s hand.
“I’m scared,” Rowen deadpanned. And apparently, they shared that ability to make a room full of the most influential people of the city laugh effortlessly, too.
Elliot slung his arm around Rowen’s shoulder, patting his chest. “Would you look at that smile,” he teased. “Those ocean-blue eyes. Handsome face. And I’m not just saying that because we look alike.”
Even I was laughing, despite the ever-present nervous flutter in my stomach. “Brother, you are so humble,” Rowen retorted.
“Keep the flattery for the next item.” A single wink in my direction, but the way Allegra threw her head back in a laugh, maybe it was for her, after all.
“Because tonight, as a little treat from all of us at the Ashwood Foundation, you can buy yourself into Rowen Ashwood’s scandalous love life.
One evening, one date. And who knows? Maybe he’ll agree to a second. ”
Like Rowen hadn’t assumed as much, his head fell back in a laugh, shaking in amusement. He leaned closer to the microphone again. “I did not agree to this.”