Chapter Thirty Five - Asher
Sydney is louder than I remember.
Too many people. Too many voices. Too many expectations sitting in the corners of rooms, dressed in expensive designer suits and doused in quiet judgment. I keep my arm around Scarlett’s waist like that will ground me, but I still feel the weight pressing in. This has never been the life for me.
Mum answers with the biggest Cheshire cat grin I’ve ever seen—it really has been a long time since I’ve brought a girl home (and since I’ve been home myself)—she embraces me against my will into a hug before so much as a hello.
“Hi mum, nice to see you too” I clear my throat
“This is Scar—“
“Scarlett, you beautiful little thing, I’m so glad to finally get the chance to meet you. Asher’s been hiding you away down in Dawson’s” she leans in and kisses Scarlett on either cheek. Ah the theatrics.
Scarlett looks over to me with a wide smile, she is loving this as much as mum is. Great.
“Oh Mrs Kingsley, thank you for having me” her eyes rise at the name, she’s taken back by the fact I’ve told Scarlett exactly who they are. Well let’s be straight, Scarlett worked it out.
“Nonsense dear we’ve been dying for Asher to bring a pretty girl home.” Jesus Christ so anyone else that I’ve brought home obviously wasn’t up to mum’s standards in looks. She’s insulting me before I’ve got in the damn door.
“Okay ladies let’s get in the door yeah?
” I interject motioning for Scarlett to walk in before me placing my hand on her lower back.
Pretty, pfft I audibly scoff because what a fucking understatement, she looks ethereal, she’s wearing an emerald dress with lace sleeves, it’s tight and hugs her figure everywhere it should, and stopping at her ankles where it’s met by the straps of her black dressy heels.
She is the picture of elegance and sophistication she’s just as luxurious as this house; she doesn’t just fit in here she stands out.
We walk into the grand foyer and Dad appears.
Here we go. I brace myself for what’s to come from the old man.
“Son.” He gives me a curt nod and hands me a scotch on the rocks. Straight into the heavy shit I see.
“Dad, this is Scarlett.” I introduce her to Alfred giving her a soft kiss on the head. I tower over Scarlett. I love that.
“Scarlett, I’d love to know how Asher here managed to win you over. You are beautiful my dear.” Scarlett blushes falling right into his web, she’s going to love them, and I won’t stand a chance here. Ahh fuck, another sneaky insult but at least dad is not blind like mum.
Mum ushers us straight into the dining room, figures it is harder for me to run away if we are seated, and around a table made for 12 people. Okay, game face on, smile and laugh when needed, eat the food, drink the scotch, and then I can get the fuck out of here.
* * *
To my surprise dinner with my parents is going fine—on the surface.
My mum comments on Scarlett’s dress. My dad asks polite, leading questions about the Ridgebacks and my “career timeline.” They laugh in the right places.
Smile when they need to. But every conversation ends with the same suggestion dressed up in different words:
“You know, Kingsley Media could use a fresh face.”
“You’re more than just football, son.”
“Scarlett, don’t you think Sydney suits him, it looks lovely on you dear?”
“Bet you haven’t seen him dressed up down there in Dawson’s River” that one was a direct mistake, Alfred’s never pronounced anything wrong in his life, unless on purpose.
I grit my teeth through all of it, I’ve been grinding my back molars so hard that my dentist is going to have a field day with me next appointment.
Scarlett squeezes my hand under the table more than once, like she knows I’m about two minutes from snapping.
She is getting on swimmingly with mum and dad though, and for that I’m thankful—shows them I am capable of making a decision they approve of.
Even though it’s mine not theirs and that something in Dawson’s isn’t the low calibre they believe it to be.
They’ve welcomed her with open arms. I had no doubts they would be eating out of her hand, I just hope she’s also not eating out of theirs.
But she’s smart she reads people, and I can see just the slightest twitch of her lip and the smallest line above her right eyebrow furrow whenever they make a pass at me.
Dessert arrives—a chocolate praline tart and it’s delicious, my god it’s delicious but not so much so that I don’t start thinking about all the ways to escape, once the plates are collected.
This means it’s my chance to get the fuck out of here unscathed, seemingly perfect dinner, see you all in a year.
The dinner has been fancy; they’ve gone all out to impress Scarlett—we could’ve eaten at her favourite burger joint though and wouldn’t have meant diddly squat to her either way.
They’ve always got a hidden agenda but, no doubt hoping she’ll be able to talk some sense into me.
Little do they know she lives and breathes football too, they know she’s a talent agent in the sports industry, but I may have left a few key details out…
like she’s my manager and she happens to love footy.
“So, Scarlett, where would you like to settle down? Surely not in Dawson’s Ridge a big city girl like you?” Dad starts up the conversation with about as much subtlety as a steam train at full speed. Smooth Alfred, smooth.
“I actually grew up there. Back then it was a ridiculously small town, but I’ve been pleasantly surprised at how far they’ve come, no doubt thanks to the Ridgebacks,” she smiles up at me and places her hand on my arm above the table her thumb rubs over my forearm. This woman.
“Oh, you don’t strike me as a small town at all. Asher said he met you in Sydney a few years ago,” Mum is on damage control trying to steer the conversation back in their rehearsed direction. I’ve now leant back in the chair, making myself comfortable for this shit show.
“We moved out to Bondi when I was around ten for Dad’s work, he was a half back in the early 2000’s, and then I ventured into Sydney for university and never left.
I do love it here, the opportunities are endless but I’m learning quickly that opportunity is more about who you are and not where you are.
” She’s good, spoken like a top tier manager.
That’s why she’s mine and my girlfriend, maybe she’ll be my wife. Nah definitely one day.
“Your dad played? I didn’t know.” Mum has been caught off guard, and I can see the moment she’s putting all the pieces together—realising Scarlett will not join their cause. In fact, she’s fully fledged team Asher.
“He did, one of the greats of his time and now he’s just as great a coach, I’m surprised Ash didn’t tell you dad’s the coach of the Ridgebacks. He doesn’t hold a candle to the talent Ash has though” she rubs her thumb over my forearm again and I’ve never felt so at ease.
Alfred clears his throat, completely caught off guard the man’s near choked on his scotch. I stifle a laugh and hide my smile behind my hand.
Mum’s interrogation stops there, and I can’t help but smile knowing their plan to get Scarlett on board has failed—miserably.
“Well, I reckon that’s about time for us to head off, it’s been a killer day.” I push up from the dining chair and wait for Scarlett to follow suit.
We’ve successfully made it through a dinner with my parents, and now they know Scarlett isn’t going to help them win me back here either.
* * *
Mum and dad wanted us to stay in the house instead of getting a hotel room.
But there was no way I’d be subjected to more scrutiny and absolutely no way I’d be able to do the things I’m thinking about to Scarlet Walker.
Scarlett is sitting on the edge of the hotel ottoman as she unties her heels slowly, like she’s winding down from an exhaustive performance, but she was just her perfect self all night.
The car ride home we chatted about the house and what my parents actually do in the media group, and what it is they want out of me.
I did most of the talking and Scar just sat and listened intently.
“You okay?” she asks softly, probably wondering why I’m so quiet, but I was just soaking in the woman she is, whilst my mind circles around mum and dad’s attempts. I’ve broken out in the league. I’m killing it, so is the team. I really thought they’d get it now, be proud of me.
I sit on the edge of the bed, hands clasped. “They want me to come back, and I just don’t think they’re going to give up on it.”
She doesn’t say anything. Just nods. We’ve been over this more than once tonight.
“And I won’t,” I add. “Not now. Not ever.”
She walks over, her expression unreadable. “You sure, right now football is yours but in the future, you don’t want to continue the family legacy?”
I look at her, really look at her. “That life nearly broke me. I’m not going back to a version of myself I barely survived. I’m not cut out for designer suits and sky rises. I’d rather flog myself in the gym for hours on end than sit in meetings running numbers. I’m not taking Ben’s place.”
She exhales and nods again, but something flickers in her eyes. Was she just saying what I wanted to hear at dinner?
I watch as she rises and slips out of the top half of her dress. That emerald colour lights her up, she’s even more stunning than usual—which I’m not even sure would have been possible only I’ve seen her in the dress with my own two eyes.
“Can you help yank this zipper down Ash”
I carefully place my hand on her ass cupping her cheek and use my free hand to pull the zipper all the way down. Her black lace underwear is peaking out through the gap left behind by her zip. Instantly I’m hard. I know what’s under there and I’m insatiable when it comes to this woman.
She reads my mind and drops the dress altogether letting it pool at her feet, stepping out of the puddle below her slowly, I watch her perfect feet one at a time slide up and out.
She half turns in my direction her arm draped over her perfect bare breasts.
Eyes shifting over me. I’ve unbuttoned my crisp white shirt exposing my abs and the muscles around my waist where my dress pants hang, I know she loves the way my pants sit like this.
Her eyes turn sultry as her lips part “are you coming to shower big boy” the nickname she hasn’t let me live down since that waitress on our first “management meeting” it’s stuck now and I kind of like the way she says it.
I bite my lip drinking every last drop of this woman in “absolutely darling” and I’m up following this siren into the hotel shower like a man being lured to his untimely death, caught in her spell.