Chapter 32
Ash
Of course, it happened again. But this time, it was my fault. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. It shouldn't have shocked me one bit that the man who buried me in the ground once over our differences in status would do it again, in the most beautiful city alive. It was the only trip like this I’d probably ever take, and I got broken up with on it.
Who gave a shit if I wanted to be an independent woman!? I made my own way in this world, but that didn’t mean someone shouldn't stand up for me when I’m being walked all over. What the fuck did they know about my life anyway?
And seriously, did he really think it was a good idea to not tell me this was a family trip? Did he expect his mother to just show up, throw her ideals out the window, and embrace us? Did he really think that blindsiding his mother was a good idea? That it would work?
My god, Mason was an idiot.
Maybe I was just a buffer between him and his mother. Maybe I was just this little pawn he was using to show her he couldn't be manipulated. Maybe he was pissed off and he didn’t have poor old daddy to bail him out, so he was looking for some unsuspecting low life to provide the buffer so he didn’t have to stand up for himself. So he didn’t have to disappoint anyone. So he could keep going to his fancy parties and dinner ventures and schmooze with the rich and famous and still get to stick his dick in girls with lower statures to make himself feel superior.
I shoved my shit in my bag, I left behind all the things he bought for me, and I rolled it out of the house. Yeah, he protested, and yeah, Eva was finally nowhere in sight, but I didn’t care. Yet again, I was told how hard shit would be because I had no money and didn’t come from a popular family. That was bullshit. I was over trying to convince some spoiled rich kid that money and family names didn’t mean shit.
Not where I came from. Not ever.
I took the car and went to the least busiest airport, since Mason would automatically assume I’d go to the big and fancy one. Of course, he would.
Rich prick.
When I was stopped in traffic, I took out my phone and racked up my data plan trying to figure out how much money I had. I transferred funds and reworked things on my credit card, and I ended up spending all my hard-earned savings just so I could fucking get home. A plane ticket from Italy back to the States drained me for almost everything I had. If I wanted to catch a cab from the airport home, that meant I couldn’t eat.
Not in the airports, not on the airplane, not anywhere.
“Fuck!” I yelled in the car.
I got to the airport and broke down in front of the woman at the desk. She took pity on me and found me the cheapest flight available, and even though my legs fell asleep halfway through the flight, I was able to eat when I landed.
I walked out of the airport and hailed a cab, and I told the cab driver I’d pay for his dinner if he didn’t charge me for the ride home. We drove halfway across town to the best fast food joint near my apartment, and we went inside. I got us food and the driver still offered to pay, and I brushed him off with a smile on my face.
It was pathetic, really, that the only man in the past decade to treat me with any decency was the random cab driver that was getting me home from the worst possible vacation ever taken.
I turned my phone off, knowing I’d pay a hefty bill when it came in. When the cab I hailed from the airport finally pulled up to my apartment, I cried I was so happy. Ever since my leg first fell asleep on that bullshit plane ride, I’d thought of my bed. It was big, and soft, and every time I sunk down into it, it cradled me like a child.
My room had no windows, so the world was never a bother, and my cell phone hardly had service unless it was sitting on my desk. So people couldn’t bug me. Even if someone banged on the door really hard, if I was sleeping, they’d never wake me up. It was the perfect place to completely forget about my pathetic life, and I figured if I just showed up at work in the morning, Luna would just accept the help.
I walked into the building and rolled my stuffed suitcase behind me. It was over. This nightmare was finally behind me, and I could get some rest and try to get my life back on track. I smiled at my apartment door and didn’t even question when the door was unlocked. I was a few steps away from falling into the sweet abyss of my bed and being completely cut off from the world.
Maybe Mason was right. Maybe I wasn’t cut out for his high society fuckery. But that was fine. If being in his bullshit existence meant tolerating Eva and people like her, then they could fuck off.
They could all fuck off.
I walked into the apartment, ready to spill my guts and tears to Frank. I knew my best friend would side with me no matter what, especially after she’d already met him. I was prepared to go all-in and tell her the exact kind of dick I thought he was. But instead of finding Frank on my couch, I found him.
My rat ex Jason.
“Fucking really?” I said.
“Ash! I’ve been looking for you.” He hopped off the couch and stood, lanky and tall, in the middle of my apartment.
“I’m gonna kill you, Frank!” I yelled.
“She’s actually not here,” he said.
“Then what the hell are you doing here?”
“I heard you were dating a billionaire from Frank,” he said.
“Of course, you did,” I said.
“And all of my celebrity friends in high places tell me that I could use the angle on the show and get us massive ratings.”
“I’m over people in high places, Jason,” I said.
“I’m serious,” he said. “It could mean massive exposure.”
“Get a life.”
I was too tired to deal with this bullshit, but it had dropped into my lap. My heart had been stomped on, shattered, and deep fried by some spoiled asshat rich kid. My dumbass ex with shitty bass playing skills was standing in my empty apartment. And my pathetic “best friend” was off god knows where, getting drunk with god knows who, off money she wasn’t paying when she was sleeping on my fucking couch.
I’d had it. I was done.
“I don’t care what angle you’re working,” I said flatly. “The billionaire and I broke up. Now, get out.”
“Wait,” Jason said. “That’s actually even better.”
“How so?” I asked.
“Just hear me out. Why don’t we get back together?”
“I’d rather deep fry my vagina,” I said.
“Come on, Ash,” he said. “Be reasonable. Just listen. We could go on the reality show and pretend we’re dating. Then we can talk about how the other half lives. We could talk about their sordid details and the drama that happened, and that wouldn’t just be exposure for me. It’d be exposure for you, too. The camera’s eating up bigger women these days, and you could wear and mention your jewelry line! It’d be perfect.”
“God, there was so much wrong with that statement I just don’t know where to begin.”
“But we’d really have to sell it,” Jason continued. “I could get you exposure, people buying your jewelry, and we’d have to do a bit of sleeping together.”
“For the cameras?”
“No, just to sell us dating. You know, talk about our sex life and stuff. Might as well have sex to talk about it. You’d get exposure, your product line off the ground, and mind-blowing sex.”
I stared blankly at him. Did he seriously think he could give me mind-blowing sex? After the multiple orgasms Mason could give me just with his tongue alone, did he really think the twig between his legs would actually compare to the thick piece of meat I’d been stuffing myself with for the past few weeks!?
I held out my hand and plastered a sly smile on my face, and I could tell by the way his eyes lit up that he thought he was in. He took it, and we stood by the door. Then I took his other hand and squeezed them tightly.
“Jason, sweetheart,” I said.
“God, you’re wonderful. I knew you’d do it, Ash.”
“Fuck off.”
I wrenched my hands away and threw him out the door. Then I slammed it shut behind him. I locked all the locks and made sure the window was closed, just in case he jumped off the deep end, and then I made my way back to my room. I grabbed my suitcase, tossed it into the corner, and flopped down onto the bed.
God, I’d always loved my bed. The sheets were thick and comfortable, and I could crank my ceiling fan on high and sleep like a sound little child. My bed had always been a comforting thing for me. It blocked out the world and had absolutely no windows. It was the perfect place for me to forget about absolutely everything.
Finally, I had the balls to tell the world to go to hell.
It just took getting my heart broken twice in order for it to happen.