ASHTON
My brothers and I are all seated in the second living room. We all arrived the mansion barely twenty minutes ago after getting Demi's cryptic call. Mom called this meeting at Demi's behest. I am still stewing over Asher's stupid action so for that, he actively avoids my eyes. Ashely and Ashal were the last ones to pull up ten minutes ago. Ashal looks slightly drunk because of the big, patronizing smile on his face as he does a little hand signal at Demi. If he was sober, he would be wearing a forlorn expression and definitely wouldn't be trying to draw any attention to himself.
Demi doesn't reciprocate or mirror his smile. She's standing firmly in the middle of the room with her hands on her hips. Mother sits facing us, her expression flat and disappointed. I can already tell what this is about.
"I won't waste your time." Demi begins with a stern look. I haven't seen her this resolute and pissed. "I called mom here. I wanted her to be around when I issue this warning."
"Excuse me?" Asher snorts. "Warning?"
"Enough Ash, let her finish." Mom cautions him.
"I do not want any of you stepping into my room henceforth. You can consider it completely off limits." She continues, ignoring Asher's amused expression. "As you all know, I am unable to tell you apart. Some or all of you have repeatedly taken advantage of this fact to impersonate another brother in front of me. For this reason, I'm banning all of you from crossing the threshold of my room. Let's leave the madness outside."
"Are you really worried about our switcheroo or is there another reason you want to keep us out of your room?"
Demi glares at Asher. "I don't go to YOUR room so don't come into mine!" She replies. We are all wearing different outfits from work and for that reason, I am certain she can tell which brother is which right now. When her gaze falls on me, she gives me an icy look that hurts more than I care to admit. She must believe that I knew Asher was going to do that to her.
In my office earlier, she refused to leave until we continued our conversation from this morning. I did a poor job of hiding my shock at her accusations. My mind was reeling with thoughts about the nature of her conversation with Asher and the fine details of it. Demi instantly guessed that I had been impersonated. It made her very livid, which further worsened my curiosity.
Mom reiterates Demi's rule.
"I won't hear of this anymore. She is not some toy you all can mess with; she's officially the daughter-in-law of this family and deserves the respect she demands." Something about the ire in mother's eyes makes Asher swallow the retort on his tongue. Ashal is sobering up now as the light of cheer in his eyes has faded to despair. Ashley sits mute with a blank face.
Demi excuses herself. Mother moves to Ashal and cups his face in her hands while she probes him about his drinking. I leave for my room to stifle the urge to punch the smug grin on Asher's face. I'm not terribly surprised at how much of a dick he can be sometimes but right now, it's better to stay mad at him than the moronic alternative; vying for Demi's attention to clear my name. Why her validation is important right now eludes me. When the elevator opens to the first floor and I turn to head for my room, I find Demi keying in a passcode for her bedroom door. She spares me a glance, her eyes flat.
Everything I would like to say to her right now escapes my mind. Instead, I stand a few feet away from her, grinding my teeth in my jaw. She punches in the code hurriedly, suddenly uncomfortable. She can't possibly think I'll hurt her, can she? I wonder. The door doesn't budge as she keyed in the wrong code. Demi tries again, stealing a side glance at me. Now I am pissed at how uncomfortable she is being.
I take a step forward and she tenses.
"Stay back!" She yells with the five fingers of her left hand shot in my direction. You'd think she is about to shoot fire from them.
"Are you serious right now? It's me, Ashton."
"I don't care. Stay the hell away from me." She tries her code again, cusses when the door buzzes with a flash of red. Her eyes boggle as I close the distance between us and cage her between my arms.
"Breathe godammit. I don't bite." She reluctantly evens her breath. Then I turn her around so she's back facing her door. "My brothers will be here any second now. If you don't want them seeing us like this, you better remember that code, now!"
Demi inhales sharply and closes her eyes. When she keys in the code, the door flashes green and unlocks. She slips inside but doesn't shut it.
"I'm changing the code in case you ever think of coming in here."
I smile at her. "Don't put ideas in my head, Branson. Go right ahead and change your code if you want to. If I wanted to see you, you'll need more than a door to keep me out." I chuckle softly at the wilted look on her face before she slams the door shut.
***
"You're quite late, sir. The client has been waiting for you for over an hour." Gris chimes as I step out of my car in the parking lot. My hair is wild right now as I forgot to run a comb through. Gris frantically digs into his bag and supplies me with a new hair brush. When I stare at him with a stunned look, he proceeds to try to run the brush through my hair. I jerk back and catch his arm.
"Are you nuts? What makes you think that is okay?"
"Sorry sir. I know you don't like anyone touching your hair. Your hair always looks great except this morning. Unfortunately, I don't want our client thinking you just rolled out of bed and strolled to work like a typical nepo baby with no work ethic." Grudgingly, I snatch the brush from his hands and using my side mirror, brush my wig properly.
"Who's this client that we are trying so hard to impress anyway?"
"I forwarded all the info to your email. Didn't you check it?" Gris' face crumples at the lazy shrug of my shoulders.
When I step into my office, it's just as Gris had described on our short flight up here. A beautiful lady slicked in an orange three-piece suit stands with her back to me as she studies an antique painting on my wall. On the sofa, an elderly man and a sprightly young man turn to face me as I enter. I instantly recognize the elderly man. His face comes up on the news as frequently as my father's. He owns the biggest multinational conglomerate that can rival ours; Spellman group.
"Mr. Hugh, I am terribly sorry for keeping you." I extend a hand to shake his. Mr. Hugh is clearly disappointed by my tardiness and doesn't fail to register his displeasure with a condescending look at the gold watch on his wrist.
"Is this any way to run a company, Mr. Rollins?" He grunts. "You've kept us here a whole hour and don't you go blaming your personal assistant. He's been calling you all morning."
"I deeply apologize sir. I was unavoidably detained. I'll not waste your time any further. If you'll allow me, shall we continue this in the showroom? It's my understanding that you're looking to purchase a vehicle?"
"Yes, for my daughter." He jerks a thumb at the young woman who whirls to face us now. My jaw drops, then clenches. "Mila, I believe you can take it up from here?"
"Yes, father." Mila cautiously avoids meeting my eyes after the first frosty glare I give her. Her father lunges to his feet, a huge bulky man with a protruding belly, and draws his suit jacket closer.
"I wanted to show face so she doesn't get treated like a nobody. Give her whatever car she wants. Give the best you've got. The money is not a problem." Gris nods in affirmation and graciously escorts Mr. Hugh and his bodyguard out. My gaze remains trained on Mila who brushes a stray clump of hair off her face and boldly meets my eyes now.
"I needed a way in."
"So, you brought daddy."
"You wouldn't listen to me otherwise. If I had showed up to talk to you, you would have had your security show me out. Gosh, I didn't want to use the 'family status' card but I had no choice. Look, out of respect for my father, you're still standing here talking to me. You know you wouldn't have given me the time of day otherwise."
The fact that she's right scrapes at my pride. I ball my fists. "I'm guessing this isn't about a car."
"Unfortunately, I have to get one or dad would be pissed I wasted his time."
I inhale deeply. "We are going to the showroom and you're going to pick a car of your choice. I'll have the documentation done and you'll be on your way. Have I made myself clear?" When I turn to head downstairs, Mila calls after me.
"I'll keep coming here in the guise of shopping for a car until you hear me out. It's like my father said, the money is not a problem. I don't mind gifting cars to my employees every week if I have to. Point is, you won't stop seeing this face until you hear me out." Her arms are crossed defensively over her chest, a statement of firm resolution, when I whirl towards her with angry eyes.
Gris returns.
"Gris, postpone the rest of my meeting. I'm going out." I don't wait to clarify but stroll out with Mila on my heels.
Mila is smart to stay quiet all through the fifteen minutes car ride to a café downtown. Despite how much I swerve, she doesn't flinch. She sits comfortably with her legs crossed like a woman used to fast car rides. She twiddles with the seat belt and hums a tune softly as the car zips across town. I've never had a passenger princess that didn't hang on for dear life. Though I find it quite impressive, my mood is too fucked up to air compliments.
We order coffees and grab a table.
"You have twenty minutes." I blurt out coldly after our coffees are served. Mila sips hers, approves with a smile. "Nineteen." I add.
"Ashton is really a polar opposite of Will."
That lances my pride. "Eighteen."
"Fine." She slouches with her hands folded again. "It was the watch."
"What?"
"How I recognized you. The dainty wrist watch you wear inside your sleeve. I've seen it in many of your on-screen interviews with your family. I was curious to know why you prefer that old thing over all the fancy watches you can afford so I might have done a bit of research." Seeing my expression, she hurries to add, "Don't worry, nothing interesting came up. I just spent so much time staring at it that I can recognize it anywhere, especially given the fact that it's broken and constantly tells the time as three fifteen am."
I pull my sleeve over the leather watch. "How did you find me as Will?"
"Mr. Fantasy." Mila corrected with half a smile. "I heard about it at the spa. A group of ladies were talking about it and how they've left you lots of messages but you wouldn't reply unless they wanted to go out with Will." Mila sighs and sips her coffee again. "Aren't you going to drink that before it gets cold?" She asks me over the rim of her coffee mug. Her does eyes are oddly cute from my side of the table.
To distract myself, I grab the mug and sip. "Keep going."
"I've lived as Hugh Spellman's daughter all my life. You must know what it's like living as the child of a famous billionaire. There's so much pressure to act right, do this and do that. Everyone has an opinion about your life. The expectations keep piling up the older you get. It's very exhausting. Hence, I wanted to go out and not get recognized for once. I wanted to eat a damn burger like normal people and slurp my coffee without judgment. With the constant demand to live, act and speak a certain way, I felt like I was losing myself so when I heard about you, I wasn't interested in meeting Mr. Fantasy. I wasn't seeking that thrill. I just wanted to hang out with someone as an ordinary girl and have fun, not as MILA SPELLMAN with the world's expectations hanging like a noose around my neck. That's why I reached out to you."
I stifle the urge to nod in resonance with her words. It's exactly how I feel.
"And when you realized it was the Ashton Rollins playing dress up? Why didn't you just walk away?"
She leans forward and rests her chin on her hands. "Now, that was a pleasant plot twist. If I ever imagined one of the quads going undercover, you're the last one I pictured. It was absolutely intriguing to see that side of you, the real side I am assuming." Her eyes shift to my blonde hair. I don't bother to lie about it being a wig. She can obviously tell now and if I tried to sway her, she'd know it means a lot to me and probably use that against me.
"With the effort you put in, I wagered you felt something akin to the way I feel. I thought we could help each other get through it, assuming it's a phase."
"How am I supposed to believe you?"
"It's your choice really. I'm just glad I got to get that out of my chest." She smiles widely at me. I whip my head just as journalists with cameras take photos of us from outside the cafe. Why are they everywhere for goodness' sake?
"Time's up."
Mila holds my hand as I try to rise. I give her a sizzling look as our hands meet.
"You don't have to worry. I won't say a word about your real hair color or texture. Scouts honor. You just have to promise me I'll be seeing Will again. I miss him." Something warm fills my chest at the keen mention of Will. Mila grabs her purse and joins me on my feet. "Now, let's go get me my car."
***
Mila turned out to be a suffering perfectionist while car shopping. It's either that or she intentionally kept nitpicking every choice I made for her as a ruse to spend more time with me. I'd admit I won't be appalled if it turns out that the latter is true. I didn't have a horrible time with her. It was easy to be my authentic self around her as she was around me.
When I walk into the living room, dad's voice calling me from the dining table is a pleasant surprise.
"Over here, my boy."
He looks genuinely happy to see me. Everyone else on the table is wearing a smile. Everyone except Demi who continues to poke her food. Father shakes my hand firmly.
"Hello father. Am I missing something?" I ask, scanning the amused faces in the room.
"I'm really glad you're finally taking a cue from your old man. At last, a choice I can be proud of."
I have no idea what he's blabbing about.
"A choice? Father, I don't understand…" My words trail off as Asher shoves his iPad in my face. A frown creases my brow as I stare down at a weirdly angled picture of Mila and I. The headline is even worse. "Father, it's not what you think." I am prepared to explain but surprisingly, father cuts me off.
"I was beginning to get worried that my sons don't have good taste in women. You proved me wrong today, Ashton. Mila Spellman will make a beautiful addition to this household. She comes from an equally wealthy family. She knows all about our kind of life; living under the public eye, running a conglomerate and whatnot."
"Addition? What are you talking about?" I question but he totally ignores me.
Father raises a toast at this point. "To Ashton and Mila."
"TO ASHTON AND MILA" My brothers and mom echo with big smiles. Across the table, I lock eyes with Demi's empty ones.
What the fuck?