6
The Storm Ahead
Despite Riley’s suggestion that they stay home Ashe wasn’t ready to deviate from his plans, not when they were both ravenous after their long bath. Riley wore a red dress which Ashe’s stylist had delivered that morning, along with a pair of knee-high boots. The dress was one that Riley had chosen for an afternoon tea event in Los Angeles the previous month; she’d never worn it after learning that the press would be in attendance, but had instead picked something that showed less cleavage in which she was comfortable being photographed.
Ashe had been secretly relieved. He doubted he’d have been able to concentrate on holding a conversation without worrying about someone looking down her dress. At St. Barts, even when they had their own private villa, it took all Ashe’s willpower not to ask Riley to turn back the first time she’d emerged without a stitch of clothing to sunbathe in the pool. He’d never been so jealous before, and it worried him.
Maybe it was because Riley had no idea just how beautiful she was. At five feet four inches she was on the petite side, with a generous bosom which she tried to minimize by wearing high-necked T-shirts; that didn’t work, as almost everyone still noticed her figure. She had big blue eyes, thick lashes, a pert button nose and a smile that lit up the room. Her long blonde hair cascaded down her back when it wasn’t put up in a ponytail, and Ashe loved to run his fingers through it.
No matter how often Ashe told her just how beautiful she was, Riley was always reluctant to believe it; she’d lived most of her life under the shadow of her older sister, Paige, who’d once been a top fashion model. Ashe had always assumed that Paige had gone into modeling after high school until Riley told him that Paige’s life as a model had begun at four months old, as a baby gently placed in a warm bath for a baby shampoo advertisement. This had been followed by more commercials and catalog modeling. Now Paige was married to Clint Caldwell III and living her life as a Manhattan socialite and lifestyle blogger, with a social media following numbering hundreds of thousands.
As Ashe emerged from the bedroom dressed in one of his favorite suits, Riley was determined to do everything she could to get him out of it. Seeing him in a suit did something to her, she told him.
“So does seeing me in just about anything else,” he protested, laughing as he grabbed hold of her hands to stop her from undoing his tie one more time.
“Well, that’s true,” she admitted, finally giving in to the idea that, snow warning or not, Ashe was determined to have dinner. At least they didn’t have to worry about hailing a cab as Ashe had hired Dave and the car to drive them around that evening.
After dinner, at one of the perfectly situated tables on the balcony, Ashe gave Riley her second present, the wide platinum bracelet he’d originally planned as her first present of the evening until he’d surprised her with the pendant in the bath. Then Riley gave him her present, a sterling silver tie clip that perfectly matched the tie he wore.
“Someone prevented me from putting on my tie bar earlier this evening, so this is ideal,” he chuckled, attaching the new pin to his tie.
“You’re perfect,” Riley said. “I still don’t know how I managed to catch you, of all people.”
“I should be asking myself how I managed to catch you, not the other way around,” Ashe said, covering her hand with his. “You’re you, Riley. You’ve never been anyone else but yourself, and I love that about you.”
Riley’s expression grew serious. “I’d like to believe you’re you when we’re together,” she said, “that Yorkshire lad who made good.”
“Not just any Yorkshire lad,” Ashe added. “One who always has to be better than he was the day before because there are many waiting to fill his shoes should he fail.”
“You’re not going to fail.” She frowned. “Still, isn’t that tiring?”
“You just said yourself, Riley, that I’m perfect,” Ashe said. “I’m not, but I want to be perfect for you.”
Riley sighed. “I don’t want you to be perfect at all for me. I just want you to be yourself, even if you make mistakes. You can’t be ‘on’ all the time, Ashe. Sometimes you just have to be yourself, like you were when we went to your home in Reeth. I want to be with that version of Ashe who didn’t have to worry whether there were any paparazzi hiding in the bushes. While we’re sitting here on the balcony now, for instance, everyone’s watching us.”
“No, they’re not,” Ashe said, though he had to admit Riley was right. They’d been seated right on the balcony which gave them a good view of the restaurant’s first floor but also gave everyone else an unobstructed view of them. No one was paying much attention to them, though, at least not obviously. At any rate, Ashe hardly noticed them.
He reached across the table to touch Riley’s face, and she closed her eyes as he brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. He wanted to tell her what he’d done, that he’d gone to see her father—who wasn’t really her father—to get her the perfect present. Ashe was beginning to wonder if giving her the book was such a great idea after all. It would open up so many questions: How had he known about it? Where had he found it? These were questions that Ashe wasn’t ready to answer.
If Sid had indeed spoken the truth about Riley not being his daughter, the knowledge weighed heavily on Ashe. Just that morning, the director had been impressed with the intensity with which Ashe had delivered every line, the anger he’d put into the fight scenes between himself and Chase Milkin, the actor who played Aufidius, and ‘the burning rage’ that lay behind his eyes.
“This is how I want you to be, Ashe, throughout the entire play! Righteous, unflappable and completely unsympathetic to the requirements of political theater!” Conrad Blake had declared enthusiastically as Ashe stood in front of him, his chest heaving from the exertion of the choreographed sword fight. Perspiration dripped down the back of his neck, but his shoulders remained unbowed. He was angry at the heavy burden that seemed to have been handed to him, and he had wanted someone to bear the brunt of that anger.
After rehearsals, Ashe apologized to Chase for having put more than necessary into the fight. Ashe had caught the look of pure fear in Conrad’s eyes, belied by his words.
“It’s fine, Ashe,” Chase said, laughing. “We’ve only been doing this for three straight weeks; surely we know the steps by now.”
They did. Ashe practiced the steps inside his condo when he was alone. He dreamt them every night, just as he dreamt the lines he recited, but he did this alone; he didn’t want to burden Riley with his work when they were together. When he was with her, there was only the two of them—though her past now seemed to be encroaching into what should be a world that he and Riley shared alone. There again, who was he to complain about Riley’s past? Everyone had one and just as Riley’s past shaped her, so did Ashe’s, though his was best left buried.
“Earth to Ashe Hunter,” Riley said softly and this time her hand was on his face, pinching his chin as Ashe blinked and looked at her. “You disappeared on me.”
Ashe took a deep breath and exhaled. “I must be more tired than I thought I was.”
“We don’t have to go to the planetarium, you know,” Riley said. “I’m happy to go home.”
“How did you know we were going to the planetarium next?”
“Melissa slipped up and mentioned it,” she said, smiling. Melissa was Lance’s fiancée and she, along with Lindsay, Ben’s wife, had become friendly with Riley since they’d all gone to see Aerosmith in concert in Atlantic City in November. Ashe knew the women got together on Wednesday nights, which usually consisted of dinner and drinks; for the last two weeks, though, they’d been attending a belly-dance class in Midtown. Already Ashe had caught Riley practicing in front of his full-length mirror when she thought he wasn’t looking.
“You’re exhausted, Ashe,” Riley said. “And you’ve outdone yourself today, even if you think you didn’t do much. I appreciate all this, but what I really want for Valentine’s Day is you. It’s always been just you. Everything else is just frosting.”
“Icing has its merits,” Ashe said, catching her hand and kissing it. “Home it is, then.”
They had just made it down the grand stairs when someone called Ashe’s name. Ashe kept his hand behind Riley’s back as they turned toward the source of the voice and the sound of approaching footsteps, but he felt a kick in the gut even before he saw her face.
“Sir Ashe!” said a woman with brown bangs framing a beautiful face. She wore a figure-hugging black dress with lace cutouts, her shoulders bare. Behind her, at the table she’d just vacated, was a young man in a tuxedo who’d pulled out his phone and seemed to be checking his messages.
“Pardon me?” Ashe looked around, aware that people were watching them.
The woman’s large green eyes moved from Ashe to Riley and settled on him as she drew closer. “It really is you. Emmet told me you were seated up on the balcony. Well, you look marvelous.”
“What are you doing in New York?” asked Ashe, his back stiffening as he pulled Riley closer.
“Emmet and I are doing promos for Carnival Road, but we’re heading back to L.A. tomorrow,” she laughed, pointing to her companion still texting at the table. “I hear it’s in the eighties in L.A. and I can’t wait to get back. I’m so ready to boycott my coat, and I’ve only been here forty-eight hours. You two must be so depressed with this weather.”
“We love it,” Ashe said drily, glancing toward Emmet Carsten, Catriona’s co-star, who remained seated at the table. He waved at Ashe with one hand, his other still clutching his phone.
He’s taking pictures, thought Ashe before remembering his manners.
“Riley, this is Catriona Marks. Catriona, this is my girlfriend, Riley Eames,” he said, a frozen half-smile on his face. He wished he could disappear, and Riley with him. The last person he had expected to run into tonight, or any night, was Catriona.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Riley,” said Catriona sweetly, squeezing Riley’s hand.
“Nice to meet you, too,” replied Riley, her eyes wide as she stared at the older woman. “You’re very beautiful.”
Ashe wondered if Riley recognized Catriona Marks, British stage and film actress and now star of the upcoming US cable TV series, Carnival Road. Since Riley didn’t watch cable or network TV on her own, it was unlikely. She hadn’t even recognized Ashe when they’d first met.
Catriona brought her hand to her chest as if touched by what Riley had said. “Aw, she’s so sweet, Ashe, and so young; so vanilla! I like her already.”
“That’s enough,” said Ashe through gritted teeth. The woman’s energy overwhelmed him, from the powerful scent of her perfume to the high lilt of her voice that was now attracting attention. Then there were the images that filtered through his brain, the past returning with a vengeance: the sights and smells of leather, latex and sex.
Catriona turned to face Riley. “You have the most gorgeous hair, my dear, so thick and so blonde. I bet the carpet matches the drapes,” she said, winking at Riley as she blushed, then turning her attention back to Ashe. Her smile disappeared. “We need to talk. I have a favor to ask of you.”
“My answer is no,” Ashe said stiffly. “We were just leaving. Goodnight.”
Without waiting for Catriona to reply, he led Riley toward the door, his hand on her back steering her faster than she could walk in her high-heeled boots.
“How do you know her?” Riley asked him as they stood outside, Ashe smoothing her coat over her shoulders.
“I’ll tell you when we get home,” he said as Dave parked in front of the restaurant and the attendant opened the passenger door for them.
Inside the car, Ashe seethed in silence. Of course, Catriona had to catch him right at the bottom of the stairs where everyone could see them together and even take photographs. He wondered how soon it would be before the pictures were uploaded online and if anyone would remember the days when he and Catriona were regularly seen together at the same event, no matter how discreet they’d been. Who was he fooling? Of course, someone would remember, if they knew where to look.
Ashe belatedly realized that, while he knew almost everything about Riley, she knew little about him; nothing much about his life after he’d left the family farm at eighteen until the time when he and Isobel Reign, his Sentience co-star, had dated and split up the previous year.
Riley knew nothing about the time when he’d been a struggling actor, when he had done things he now regretted doing—some of which had got him right where he was now.