Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
“I’m not.”
“Then you have nothing to worry about. Your mom knows we’re not really together. And anyone else seeing us together will never dream we are actually together. They’ll probably think I’m some random employee you’ve taken pity on and brought along.”
That’s exactly what they’ll think, but I’m not worried about them. What I’m really worried about is the fact that my mom will take one look at Ashley and write her off as a bad idea. She won’t take the time to get to know Ashley and find out that beneath the awful clothes and the seemingly endless anger, there’s actually someone under there who has a good heart. Why, I want her to like Ashley is a mystery to me. I’ve never cared one way or another what my mother thought of all my other girlfriends. “Fine Ashley, have it your way. Let my mom see that you’re not in the least bit invested in actually making this thing work. That you’re just in it for the money.”
Again, she surprises me.
She doesn’t take the bait at all. Instead, she laughs at me. “Finn, that’s exactly what I’m in this for. And you were right earlier; we have a contract now, one neither of us can back out of. There’s no dress code in the contract, so you’re just going to have to accept that I am who I am, and that I’m not going to dress up like some airhead debutant to impress your mother.”
I give up. I sit there, quietly fuming and Ashley does the same. Let her go in there looking like this, I think to myself. Let her show herself up and regret it. I’m honestly past caring about whether or not this is awkward for her. I might even tell my mother the true reason we’re late. See how she fucking likes that. Because my mom won’t care that she was doing something noble and brave. All she’ll see is a girl who has no idea about how commitments work and how, when you make an arrangement with someone, you keep it or let them know in good time that you won’t be able to make it.
By the time we arrive at the restaurant, we’re almost half an hour late for lunch and the icy atmosphere between us is so cold I almost expect to see her breath steaming in front of her face.
We get out of the car, still not talking to each other, barely looking at each other, and Ashley slams my car door so hard that I grit my teeth.
The valet hurries forward to take my keys, and I walk into the restaurant, figuring Ashley will either catch up with me or she won’t. “Booking under Jagger,” I say to the smiling host.
“Yes, Sir,” he says, looking down to consult the book he has open on his small lectern.
Ashley has joined me now and she stands by my side. The host doesn’t show any change of expression when he glances at her, but I know that’s only because he’s trained not to. I glance at Ashley out of the side of my eye.
She’s looking around, taking in the modern décor and the tables where people in designer gear are sitting chatting and laughing. But most of all, she’s taking in how totally out of place she is in this setting. She glances down at herself and then back up. “Is it too late to change?” she hisses at me.
“Ah, there we are, sir,” the host announces. “The rest of your party is already here. Follow me please.” He is already walking away.
“It’s fine.” Ashley sighs. “It’s my own fault for being so stubborn.”
I know I can’t make this right now. There’s no way to get her back out of the restaurant without my mom spotting us through the window, especially now as the host is almost at our table. My mom’s favorite table is the one right by the window and I know she’s probably already seen us coming in.
“Don’t worry,” I say to Ashley with a wink. “You’ll do great.”
I find that I no longer want to punish her for being so stubborn. She’s obviously managed that herself, and she’s done it way harsher than I ever could have.
My mom stands up when she sees us approaching. Expressionlessly, she looks Ashley up and down, but she makes no comment about her disheveled appearance.
“Nice of you to join me,” my mom says, when the host has moved out of earshot.
“Hi, Mom,” I say kissing her cheek. “I’m so sorry we’re late. I got caught up with a client and I didn’t realize the time. By the time I was finished, we didn’t even have time to pop to Ashley’s place, so she could change. She’s been doing some decorating for me in one of the offices.”