4
His Promise
Now, two days before Valentine’s Day, Ashe wished he could take Riley away for just one night, somewhere upstate where they could be alone and wake up to the view of nature just outside their window, even if everything was covered in snow. Unfortunately, there was no time to go away, not even overnight. Rehearsals for Coriolanus were still ongoing, but at least he was scheduled to finish by two on Valentine’s Day, giving him enough time to shower, get dressed, and pick up Riley at the Library Café.
His original plan had been to pick her up at her apartment, but Ashe didn’t want a repeat of the last time they’d made arrangements to go out to dinner. He’d just arrived from the airport, had barely enough time to freshen up at the airport lounge and was looking forward to a three-course dinner at Gramercy Tavern with Riley, who had said she’d be wearing something that would take his breath away.
“Why aren’t you dressed for dinner?” he’d asked when she opened the door, perplexed to see her dressed in a sheer red baby doll negligée and matching thong, with a bow that graced the top of her bottom as she twirled in front of him in her matching high heels. He still remembered how the diamonds on her nipple clips had glistened through the thin fabric, reflecting the light in the hallway behind.
“Oh, we were going out to dinner?” Riley had purred, biting her lower lip playfully. “I thought I was dinner.”
And that was the end of that. All Ashe remembered was how the baby doll and thong looked so much better tossed onto the floor by the side of the bed than spending another minute longer on her body. Hours later, having missed the three-course dinner he had been looking forward to, Ashe had to contend with leftover pizza from her refrigerator—not that he was complaining, for her surprise gift was worth the inconvenience. But for Valentine’s, Ashe’s plans included no surprises, at least not the kind that would interfere with his plans for the evening.
His plan was simple. A five-course dinner at one of the top restaurants in Manhattan where he’d give Riley a present, a wide platinum bracelet from Tiffany’s that no coffee ground could get caught in. Then it was off to the Hayden Planetarium for Romance Under the Stars, a special presentation where they were to be regaled with romantic stories about the constellations. It was something that they did a lot of when they were at St. Bart’s, stargazing from the beach and doing their best to spot the constellations with the help of an app she’d found. They’d actually gotten quite good at it, Riley especially.
But first Ashe had to get through the grueling rehearsal schedule. Previews for the press were to begin in a week, and a week after that the nine-week run would begin, with seven performances a week, Tuesday through Sunday, including a Sunday matinee.
There was one new addition, a bodyguard named Dale Fiorelli who’d been assigned to Ashe after two fans had been found in his dressing room the day before, snapping pictures of anything they could find. Already pictures of Ashe’s dressing table had surfaced on social media, along with photographs of him with the rest of the cast that he’d taped to his mirror. Pictures of his costumes as Coriolanus, too, had made it to fan forums and had produced lively discussion as to the transparency of his trousers.
That evening Ashe finished rehearsals for the fight scenes by six; after he’d showered and dressed, Dale accompanied him outside where Lance had the car waiting by the stage door. Ignoring the short line of people waiting by the door, Ashe hurried into the car, giving the fans his best apologetic expression and saying he was rushing to keep an appointment. He didn’t mind signing programs after a scheduled performance, but after rehearsing fight scenes most of the day and getting whacked twice on the torso when he’d missed his cue, all Ashe wanted to do was go home and sleep.
Before he could allow himself to do that, however, there was one more thing for him to do—and this time he’d do it right.
Sid Eames glared at Ashe from inside his front door, but grudgingly let him inside the house. Outside, Dave kept the car idling, as the temperatures that night were dipping to 18 degrees.
“I’ve come to apologize,” Ashe said. “I should have introduced myself properly, and I didn’t. I had no intention of misrepresenting myself in any way, and I apologize for having done so.”
Sid eyed him suspiciously, taking a swig from his beer can before setting it down on the coffee table. “Gareth told me you’re a decent man, but if you think that I’m giving you the book because you asked nicely, you’re wrong.”
“I didn’t come here for the book,” Ashe said, getting up from the couch. “My decision still stands; I won’t pay for something that isn’t yours to sell.”
“That’s what I thought,” Sid said, shrugging his shoulders. “Oh, well, that’s the problem with morals, huh? They can stand in the way of something you want.”
“Morals, principles, whatever you choose to call them: it’s how I live my life, Mr. Eames. Your daughter lives the same way.”
“Oh, please, don’t lecture me about my daughter. Where were her morals when she did drugs, huh?” Sid asked as Ashe said nothing. “No answer? Well, you don’t know a thing about her, whiny little bitch; always running to her mama when she was a little girl. My poor wife constantly had to give her attention; even after she got sick, Riley still wanted all the attention.”
“She was a child,” Ashe said. “What do you expect from a young girl?”
“Why couldn’t she be like her sister Paige, self-reliant and resourceful? Instead, Riley sucked the life out of her mother, always crying, always sick, always wanting her mama next to her.” Sid was staring into space, no longer seeing Ashe in front of him. “She took my wife away from me.”
“She was a child,” Ashe said again. “Why can’t you understand that a child needs her mother?”
“Because that fucking kid isn’t mine!” Sid shouted as Ashe took a step back, speechless. Sid’s arms were trembling, his hands balled into fists at his sides and his mouth pulled into a grimace. Ashe stared at him. “You heard right, Mr. Hunter. She’s not mine.”
Ashe didn’t reply. What could he say? He was too stunned to form a sentence, his mind still processing Sid’s words.
Suddenly Sid turned to the side of his chair and bent down to pick up a plastic bag. He took two steps forward and thrust it toward Ashe, shoving it against Ashe’s chest.
“Take it! You wanted this for your precious Riley, so take it! No charge,” shouted Sid. Ashe wrapped his fingers around the package and Sid let go, stepping back toward his worn armchair. “I loved her mother, I really did, but every time I look at Riley’s face, I’m reminded how those eyes aren’t mine, how those lips aren’t mine, nor even her mother’s.”
“Does she know?” asked Ashe, his voice barely audible even to his own ears, emerging as a croak.
“Does it look like I give a shit if she knows or not?”
Outside, Lance knocked against the metal door, calling Ashe’s name. Sid collapsed back into his armchair, grabbing his beer from the coffee table and finishing it in a few gulps before crushing the can with his stubby fingers.
“Get the hell out of here before I change my mind, and your bodyguard thinks I’m beating up their precious moneymaker,” snarled Sid. “She sure hit the jackpot with you, though I can’t say you’ve done as well, her being a bastard and all. White trash!”
Ashe didn’t trust himself to say any more. He opened the door to a panicked Lance, who had kept banging on the security door.
“I heard yelling,” Lance said, stealing a glance inside the house as Ashe stepped outside and shut the door behind him. “Are you all right?”
“I will be,” Ashe said, as they hurried to the waiting car and got in. He fought back the tears of anger behind his eyelids, born of frustration and helplessness that left him exhausted. Everything he’d had left in him after his busy day had been sucked into that void which was the house where Riley had grown up.
After what he’d just learned from Sid Eames, there was only one thing he could do, and that was to give Riley the very best that he could give and love her more than he’d ever loved anyone before.
His girl deserved nothing less.