His Future
From the moment they met after the play, Ashe kept Riley by his side as much as possible. When he had to leave her for interviews at the press line or to pose with the other cast members, she was flanked by his team.
Maybe it was because he knew Paige and Clint were in attendance, as were Catriona and Collette. Betty and Lance made sure that their paths never crossed throughout the evening, and although Ashe sometimes felt like the vulnerable king piece on the chessboard, the last thing he wanted was to draw attention away from the production. They’d all worked so hard the last few weeks and they deserved the acclaim, not to be dragged into Ashe’s personal drama.
So he kept Riley close to him all night, although his reasons soon became more personal. He admired her in her beautiful red gown, her black platform combat boots peeking beneath the hem of her skirt. He was ashamed to admit that he was eying her like a piece of candy, just as she was doing with him, daring to pinch his ass when she thought no one was looking.
“Sorry to be blunt, but you two should either go upstairs and work off all that eye-fucking you’ve been doing or just head on home,” Lance told him an hour later, making Ashe laugh and Riley turn as red as her dress. They took the hint and, after twenty minutes of thanks and apologies for having to leave early, they dashed into the waiting car and past the paparazzi outside.
The moment the front door closed on the rest of the world, Ashe took her in his arms and kissed her deeply, no longer caring whether he ruined her lipstick. He felt all the tension leave his body, the feel of her in his arms a balm to the anxious thoughts that had plagued him earlier. Her fingers played with his hair as she returned his kisses, her other hand slipping under his jacket to rest along the muscles of his lower back.
For the next few minutes they savored each other slowly. In the silence of the condo it was just the two of them, connecting through lips, hands and eyes. When Ashe finally found his voice it emerged as a croak, cracking from the vocal workout of the day.
“I have to get you out of this dress now.”
“Good, because I’m going to let you do the honors with the tape. They’re something else. They even cover my nipples in case, you know, they created shadows,” she chuckled, pushing the jacket off his shoulders and tossing it onto the couch before taking his hand and leading him to the bedroom.
“Wait,” said Ashe, taking the velvet box from the kitchen counter where he’d left it the previous night.
“What is it?”
“Dance with me first,” he said, although no music was playing. “We need to put some mileage on those awesome boots of yours.”
Riley didn’t protest. She simply giggled and allowed him to hold her, her hands on his shoulders as he guided her slowly about the room. Months earlier, they’d done the same thing while vacationing at St. Barts, dancing to music only they could hear, guided by the sound of the surf and their heartbeats. Tonight was similar; just their heartbeats and the sounds of New York at night.
“Ashe, something’s bothering you,” she murmured, her fingers tracing his jaw. “You’re disappearing on me again.”
“I’m just nervous,” he smiled, his heart racing.
“Why would you be nervous? You were amazing tonight,” she whispered. “You had that audience in the palm of your hand.”
“I’m nervous about something else, petal,” he said, letting go of her hand and retrieving the velvet box from his pocket. Ashe could justify doing this so soon, without telling even his closest friends and family, but all the reasons boiled down to the only one that really mattered: he loved her.
He opened the box between them and plucked a three-carat platinum engagement ring between his thumb and index finger, a large round diamond surrounded by smaller stones glistening in the dim light.
“I love you, Riley Eames. Will you marry me?”
She stared at him, not speaking. Ashe wondered if she’d tell him that it was too soon, that such things took time, as she had when he’d first asked her to move in with him. After all, hadn’t some of their friends dated for two years or more before tying the knot? He forced such unwelcome thoughts from his mind, knowing that he was panicking while she looked at him with a furrowed brow.
The words had left his lips long before any doubts crept through his mind, and he knew that no truer words had ever been spoken. He loved her and wanted to marry her; it was as simple as that. After all, that’s what he was underneath it all, just a simple man in love with an amazing woman.
“Wait a minute!” she exclaimed as she studied the ring. “How did you know that this is the ring I’ve always wanted? It’s exactly the way I pinned it on – oh.”
“I’m one of the thirty-two followers of your online dream board, petal, the one with the dream gown and the dream wedding,” confided Ashe, shrugging his shoulders as she stared at him in horror. “Just because I don’t publicly participate in social media doesn’t stop me from having a private account.”
As she brought her hand to her mouth, Ashe watched her face pass through a series of emotions until she began to laugh and cry at the same time. Ashe wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of his index finger. “Do you need time to think about it?”
“What am I, crazy?” she chuckled, her answer muffled by sobs, but Ashe heard it loud and clear.
“Yes, Mr. Hunter. My answer is yes.”
They were both fast asleep when Ashe heard a light tapping on his bedroom door.
“What’s going on?” asked Riley, her voice thick with sleep as she peeked out from under the covers. It was one of the things he loved about her, her need to be wrapped up in bed either in his arms or his Frette sheets—a guilty pleasure she had discovered when she started sleeping over. Now she would be be living with him, married to him, and here all the time. He was looking forward to that prospect.
“It’s probably Ben or Lance, luv,” murmured Ashe, kissing her lightly on the forehead. “Go back to sleep. He’s probably here to show me the reviews of the play.”
“You were a wild man last night, Mr. Hunter,” she said, yawning. “How can I ever keep up with you?”
“I’m never letting you go, remember?” He smiled, nuzzling his nose against hers. After all their flirting at the after party the previous night and the slow build-up to his proposal, Ashe had made love to her like a starved man. She still seemed lively afterward, admiring her engagement ring with a childlike awe for almost twenty minutes, but she’d slept like the dead the moment she nodded off. He’d added to her exhaustion by making love to her again after she’d tried to monopolize the bedcovers at dawn. “Go back to sleep while I send Ben away.”
As she pulled the covers over her head, Ashe got out of bed and showered quickly, slipping on a pair of sweatpants and a shirt. Running his fingers through his hair, he glanced at his reflection in the mirror. He looked tired, but nothing stage makeup couldn’t hide, and he took his phone and quietly went out. Though it was bright outside, the thick curtains mercifully kept out the light and the chill. That would be his saving grace now after each performance.
As he walked down the stairs toward the living room, Ashe’s expression was grim. He knew Ben wasn’t there just for the reviews. The only people besides himself and Riley who had keys to his condo were Lance and Ben, and there were only two circumstances during which they were allowed to use them: when Ashe was out of town or in an emergency. Ashe knew, therefore, that things weren’t looking well.
Besides Ben, two people awaited him in the living room. Lance was already pacing the floor and Betty was standing by the sliding glass doors leading to the balcony, chewing on her cuticles. Ben was standing by the coffee table, his hands in his pockets.
“What is it?”
“Your contract’s all over the media,” Betty said, handing Ashe an iPad with the headline, Prince Charming No More: BDSM Contract Revealed. “They’re calling you the ‘Dark Prince of Hollywood’.”
“It’s got a nice ring to it,” said Ben, shrugging his shoulders as Lance glared at him.
“Is it true?” asked Betty, studying his face. “Is this your contract with Catriona?”
“If they say it’s ours, then it’s ours. What do you expect me to do, deny it? That’s what she wants me to do.”
“Well, she’s going to be disappointed,” said Betty, chuckling. “Reign Studios released a statement fifteen minutes ago.”
Ashe frowned. “What did it say?”
“It said that the contract is part of a future movie project involving you,” Betty replied.
“A movie project?”
“Yes,” she said. “That’s what I’ll be working on today as part of your official statement.”
Damage control, thought Ashe as he scrolled through his emails but found nothing from Abe; not that he needed to explain himself. Any publicity was good publicity and, even though there had been nothing involving BDSM among Ashe’s future projects, it wouldn’t be difficult to collect some writers in a room to produce one.
“You need to turn on your phone, mate. We’ve been calling you for the past hour,” said Lance, walking in the kitchen to study the complicated espresso machine on the counter. “What the hell does one have to do to get some coffee?”
“Put the kettle on and use the French press. Only Riley knows how to work that contraption,” replied Ashe. Turning to Betty, he asked, “Well, if Abe has managed to control the situation, what’s so urgent?”
“This first appeared in the Hamptons News four years ago,” Betty said, handing him a weekend magazine. “Somehow Collette got hold of it and her people are spinning it to look like news.”
“Courtesy of Catriona, no doubt,” said Ashe, flipping through the magazine till he got to the page which Betty had marked with a Post-it note.
When Money Talks: The High Price of Drug Addiction Among America’s Wealthiest (Not Involving Incarceration)
“Is this about her arrest for heroin possession? One reporter mentioned that last night.”
“It’s not just about an arrest,” Betty continued, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “It’s about special treatment because she’s rich.”
“Rich?” Ashe almost laughed out loud. “They need to check their sources.”
“That’s the problem,” said Ben. “Someone is talking.”
“Are you talking about Riley’s father?” asked Ashe, his jaw clenching at the memory of Sid trying to sell him the picture book. If this was part of Catriona’s plan, then she’d gone too far; Riley had done nothing to her.
“It doesn’t matter who’s talking or whether the information was resurrected from four years ago,” said Betty. “Information like this is enough to get people asking questions about your personal choices, and it could cost you your endorsements.”
“We’ve already received calls from sponsors concerned about the authenticity of the BDSM contract,” Lance said.
“A contract that has just been relegated to the realm of fiction,” replied Ashe as he turned to Ben. “What has Sid been saying?”
“The talk is about the drug charges referred to by the Hamptons News, and mentions that Riley was represented by Lloyd, Herrick and Waterston,” Lance answered this time, glancing at his copy of the same magazine. “According to this, Riley got off with a warning, which rich kids often do instead of having to serve time.”
“I don’t get it,” said Ben. “Why would he smear his own daughter?”
“Who are you talking about?”
Everyone turned to Riley, who was standing at the top of the stairs dressed in a T-shirt with a peace sign bearing the colors of the British flag and loose navy pajama bottoms, her feet bare. She pulled her hair into a ponytail as she came down the stairs. Ashe saw Betty’s eyes widen when she caught a glimpse of Riley’s engagement ring and turned to glance at him, arching her eyebrow.
Ashe handed Riley the magazine, folded open so that the article was the first thing she saw. She read it for a few moments before handing it back.
“The charges were dismissed, and the item only made it into the news because the father of one of the girls was president of a cable network. He still is. They live in the Hamptons, and so it became news over there,” she said. “The rest of the world couldn’t have cared less.”
“You were involved, though,” said Ashe.
“Yes, but accidentally,” she replied. “I was one of the girls in the bathroom when the club got raided but I wasn’t taking drugs with them; not then. They gave me something to try, but I didn’t take it. I only used drugs after … when Gareth left, and that was a few months later.”
“So what happened?” he asked.
“We all had to go to court. Because it was a first-time offense we all got an ACD, Adjournment in Contemplation of Dismissal. It meant that those charges were dismissed and the records sealed.”
“Records can be sealed, Riley, but mouths can’t,” Betty pointed out. “Now your father is talking to the press about it.”
“Are you sure about that?” Riley stared at Betty, then at Lance and Ben, who nodded their heads solemnly.
“Does Paige know about this arrest?” asked Ashe.
Riley nodded. “She knows that I got arrested with three other girls. She couldn’t show up in court, though, and I didn’t want her to; the triplets were barely one then.”
“What about your representation?” This time it was Ben who spoke. “Lloyd, Herrick and Waterston isn’t just any old legal firm, Riley, and today’s blind item is about a British actor’s girlfriend who got preferential treatment because she’s rich.”
“But that’s not what happened! The lawyer worked pro bono. I was one of his first cases.”
“Was he assigned by the court?” Betty asked.
Riley glared at Ashe. “I presume so. This is all Catriona’s doing, isn’t it? Does she think I’m that easy to get rid of, by digging up my past?”
“We can spin this,” began Betty, but Riley held up her hand.
“There isn’t anything to spin,” said Riley, turning her attention back to Ashe. “I may not be the perfect girlfriend, Ashe, but I’m as real as they come. I’ve got my own history and my own shitty past, just like you do; unlike you, though, I don’t need a team of people to spin it into gold.”
“Riley, I’m not letting anyone spin anything about us. Other people’s involvement in my career, and my life, goes only so far,” said Ashe as he reached for her hand and squeezed it. She was trembling with anger. He closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms.
Betty cleared her throat as Ashe and Riley stepped away from each other. At least Riley appeared calmer and smiled sheepishly at everyone.
“Well, I’ve got another meeting uptown so we’ll have to catch up later,” Betty told them, smiling at Riley and Ashe. “Congratulations to both of you. That ring is absolutely gorgeous, Riley; stunning.”
“Thank you,” said Riley, blushing.
“A press release would work wonders at this point, Ashe, given this new development.”
“Not yet; definitely not a press release about this. We haven’t even told the family yet,” said Ashe, slinging his arm over Riley’s shoulder as Ben and Lance offered their congratulations, giving him high-fives, fist bumps and a pat on the shoulder. Caught off-guard, Riley blushed even more.
“Would you be up for a cup of coffee this morning, petal?” asked Ashe, winking playfully. “Maybe at the Library Café?”
Riley caught his meaning, the frown on her face replaced by a genuine smile. After all, a picture was worth more than a thousand words in a press release.