Chapter 18 Ella #3
“Why are you so sure that will happen?”
“Because I’ve lived through it.”
“With other girlfriends?”
“No. I never let any of them get close enough for long enough to allow it.”
“Then when?”
He doesn’t answer. He rubs his palms into his eyes, then refills his tumbler again.
“Asher, we can’t figure out and fix what’s wrong if you won’t talk to me. You have to tell me what is going on or this is never going to work.”
“My grandfather,” he says, standing from the bed and turning to face me.
“I won’t get into the details tonight, it’s .
. . too much. But I was with him when something .
. . happened. We were both targets because we are Langfords.
And my grandfather’s love for me was used against him like a weapon.
I’m terrified of that happening to me. And I’m terrified of what some people will do to get to you if they think I’m in love with you. ”
My heart cracks. The fear and devastation on his face is clear. With the whiskey muting his cold mask, all that is left is his truth, which clearly terrifies him.
“Asher,” I whisper, standing and making my way to him. “It’s too late. The world already knows about me.”
“But it’s early enough that it can be undone.”
“Is that what you want to do?”
“Yes,” he says, bluntly. Honestly. It shocks me, and I feel a twinge of pain I would never have expected.
“But I can’t. There’s too much at risk with the company, and I’m too fucking selfish to let all the hard work I’ve done be stolen from me by the board.
And so I hate myself for my selfishness.
And I hate myself for doing what I always swore I wouldn’t do. ”
“Which is?”
“Drag someone into my world, where they are forced to live their life on display for the public’s amusement.”
“So, you just planned to never love? To never have a partner or children?”
He shrugs. “I figured it would happen eventually. But I didn’t plan on it for at least another ten, fifteen years.”
“What’s the difference between now and another ten to fifteen years?”
“I hoped that maybe by then the public fascination with me would have calmed a bit. I’ve always felt that if I was a little older people may not care as much.
As of now, too many people want details of the most inane aspects of my life.
What I eat, how I work out, what music I like.
Anything big or important, like a girlfriend, is like gasoline on an already out of control fire.
It will be madness. And it scares the shit out of me. ”
His posture slumps slightly, as if in defeat.
I reach out, tentative, and take his hand in mine.
Never would I have suspected that something like this was one of the reasons he hasn’t been in a serious relationship.
I realize I’m as guilty as the general public for buying into the rich, playboy persona the media has painted of him.
As if it was nothing deeper than that. As if he didn’t have very good reasons for being guarded with women.
Even without whatever this past trauma involving his grandfather is, he has every reason to be guarded.
I’m overwhelmed with the media and attention surrounding me and I’ve been living it for five days.
He’s lived it for three and half decades.
“I understand,” I say gently. “And I’m sorry you’re going through this.
But the problem is, we can’t go back now.
There is no undoing this. The only way is forward.
If we aren’t convincing, we’ll both be shredded in the media, which will put you in even more troubled waters with the board.
And I’ll be ridiculed as the girl who isn’t good enough to be with you.
I’m already going to face that since I have no valuable social status—but if we’re awkward together?
It will create a media bloodbath for me.
I’m not trying to be selfish, but I don’t want that for myself.
“And I know you’re scared, but I have already agreed to do what is needed to keep me safe—within reason—to help you deal with that. We already jumped into the deep end; we can’t decide now that we don’t feel like swimming.”
Asher lets out a long sigh. “You’re right. I know you’re right.” He sets down his tumbler on his nightstand. “So, where do we start?”
“Let’s start with a hug. You look like you need one.”
He lets out a breathy laugh as I wrap my arms around him and pull him in tight.
A loud knock on the door makes us both jump.
“Rhonda can’t stay for dinner,” Matthew calls through the door. “I tried to convince her, and pay her to stay, but she can’t. She has a family thing.”
We pull apart from one another and open the door. Matthew’s brow is raised with an obvious, “did you do what you were supposed to do?” expression, and I bite my lip and ever so lightly shake my head. He scoffs, rolling his eyes, and turns away.
Rhonda is mostly packed up when we get to the living room, and we thank her, and then Emily helps her out of the penthouse.
“I’m going to change,” I say.
“Not so fast,” Matthew says with a glare for both Asher and me. “Here’s what’s going to happen, kids. You two are going to have dinner alone. And you are not going to do any work tonight. And you are going to spend time together.”
“Yes, mother,” Asher says, rolling his eyes.
“I’m not done,” Matthew snaps. “Ella is going to sleep in your room, in your bed, with you.” He turns to me. “Ella, you will shower and brush your teeth and hair and do all of those things in his bathroom.”
“What?” I splutter.
“Yes. You are going to live in each other’s space until there’s comfort and familiarity between you. And you’re going to need to form at least some sort of intimacy. I’m not saying you have to have sex tonight, but some kissing would do you both some good. Maybe more stuff, too.”
My cheeks must be tomatoes by now, I’m blushing so hard.
Both Asher and I start to argue, but Matthew cuts us off.
“You know I’m right. So, don’t waste my time arguing.
You have less than twenty-four hours to look like a couple in love, and you’re going to need every minute of it because I refuse to spend my Sunday morning putting out the fires you two will start if you can’t get your shit together for tomorrow night. Am I clear?”
For the thousandth time this week, I wish the earth could open up and swallow me whole.
“Yes, fine,” Asher growls. “So, get out of here, then. This is strange enough without the two of you hissing instructions at us.”
“Gladly. And when I come back tomorrow with the hair and makeup team for Ella? I expect to be impressed. I will test you. I want to see a kiss,” he taps his fingers in succession as he continues, “I want to see chemistry, natural poses together for the camera, connection, love in your eyes. I don’t care what you have to do tonight to get there—just do it. ”
With that, he and Emily leave, and Asher and I stand together in the kitchen with a world of forced, awkward pressure between us.
This is going to be a long night.