ASHTON
I haven't had a woman knock the breath out of me with a simple kiss in a minute. I would never in a million years have expected such a stimulating kiss to come from Demi. If she was thinking about Ashely when she went for it, then she must have fallen hard for him. To be frank, I am surprised she managed to hold out this long. He's too charming for the ladies to resist.
Demi's cheeks go from a deep red blush to a stunned, ashy pallor as she stares from me to Ashley and then back to me. Her lips move but fail to form words. Shocked Demi is an amusing sight.
"A-Ashley? What? I thought…"
Ashley draws closer to us, reeking of a fragrant bath gel. "What are you doing in here?" His eyes dart from her embarrassed ones to my amused ones and a slight frown mars his facial muscles. "What happened?"
"I…um, I came looking for you. I wanted to apologize for earlier." She pokes a finger in my direction. "I thought he was you."
That's it? I wonder in my head, stifling a clawing need to chuckle. Damn. She'll make a terrible storyteller. How could she leave out the heart-racing, blood pumping, lip locking part?
"Well, that's the boring version." I tell Ashley, licking my lips to Demi's horror. She glares at my shamelessness and looks away. Ashley sighs.
"Ashton, could you give us a minute? Demi and I need to talk."
"Right. Was already heading out. Thanks for the car keys, Ash."
"Yeah, anytime. Have fun at your date." Ashley calls back to me. Before I close the door behind me, I lock eyes with Demi's shocked and slightly miffed ones.
My date is all the way across town. She's the first young lady who didn't cancel on me after I refused to play or be called Mr. Fantasy. Most women cancel because I wouldn't fulfil their weird fantasies.
Ever since I turned down Hannah's friend who happens to be Olivia, word spread amongst a small pool of spinsters in Danvarr. Hannah had the phone number I got for this purpose circulated and now I get random calls and desperate texts from women prepared to do anything for me to play myself or any of my brothers.
I kept turning them down but like they say, women just don't listen. Few days ago, I got a message from a young lady who calls herself Mila. What attracted me to her message was the way she addressed me; as Will and not Mr. Fantasy. She indicated an interest in going on a date with Will.
At first, I thought it was just a ruse to get me to respond to her message but then she sent one more message telling me to text her whenever I felt like hanging out with a stranger with no pressure. I thought it was cute of her to be so friendly to a person she had never met, to a man like Will.
So, tonight, Will is being introduced. I am hoping she finds me likeable. My appearance isn't significantly altered for this. Unlike the last time, I am rocking my natural, curly black hair, topped with some nerdy looking glasses. I think it's a good look for Will and silently hope it distracts from Ashton's sexual appeal. This is going to be a test. If all she wants to talk about is Ashton behind the glasses and not Will in front of her, I am walking away.
I park outside the diner and scan the area. Unlike the business and Alpha districts, this area is quaint and quiet. Very few business lights are turned on and fewer people are on a night stroll. I flick on the security mode of the car to prevent theft or vandalism before strolling, with my hands in my pocket, towards the diner.
The small diner is bathed in the yellow glow of light. Based on my view from the outside, two tired waiters are on their phones, chattering by the counter, possibly waiting for their three customers to wrap up and leave.
My eyes skip an old man and his teenage grandson to settle on the lady in a secluded booth. She frowns at her phone and grudgingly takes a sip of her drink. I check my wrist unit. I'm barely ten minutes late. What is it about my dates and them always being on a time crunch? Or better still, what is it about me and always being late? Right now, I don't know if it's an Ashton or a Will problem because both are perpetual latecomers. I push open the door and stride in.
The waiters instantly frown at the sight of a new customer coming in instead of an old one leaving. After a proper view of my face, their forced smiles become patronizing and flirty. I ignore their quick mutterings and long stares as I walk straight to my date who is already regarding me with a light of surprise. She's up on her feet before I can get to her, a hand outstretched.
"You definitely took your precious time, didn't you?" She says with a soft smile on her face. "Glad to finally meet you."
"Pleasure's all mine." We take our seats. "I'm really sorry for being late. Car troubles." I don't know why I can't think of a better excuse. Is Will such a lame liar? Before we can get a word across, a waiter saunters to our booth and eagerly places two menus in front of us.
"Hi. Welcome to the Masons Diner. What can I get you?" Her eyes remain trained on me. She flutters her thick lashes and hovers close like my date is invisible.
"Will?" Mila calls with a placid smile.
"Yeah?" I reply, eyes fastened on Mila. Her looks are pleasant. I like that she chose comfort over style for our date. Her sweatshirt and jeans go terribly well with my own plain clothes. A big, bucket hat hugs her head, nearly concealing her eyebrows. Her blonde hair flows freely behind her back.
She catches me appraising her and chuckles. "I was thinking you could order?"
"Oh." My eyes drop to the menu. "Um..." The waiter makes no fuss while I struggle to make a choice that'll be great for Mila and I.
"We'll just have two hamburgers, French fries and diet cokes." Mila smiles cheerily after the waiter leaves. "You don't get out much, do you?"
Will certainly doesn't and Ashton doesn't do diners. Her hapless smile is oddly satisfying, being without judgment. I find it strange how I can be so in control and overly confident as Ashton but the complete opposite with Will.
Our food arrives a few minutes. Mila finds it cute that the waiter slipped her number under my dish. I ignore the note which lays it thick that I am as handsome as the Rollins quads and dig into my food.
Mila is easy to talk to. I find myself laughing easily to her simple jokes. I have a few questions for her but I am afraid of ruining the mood by upsetting her. I just find it odd that she hasn't said anything about my uncanny resemblance to the Danvarr quads. The hair color and glasses aren't much of a disguise. Like the waiter, most women would have pointed that out by now which leads me to suspect that Mila's reason for holding back. It is highly unlikely that she hasn't heard of or seen my brothers and I.
The question still lingers in my mind as we talk a short walk under the moonlight.
"Thank you for tonight. I had a blast."
"Me too. It was lovely." We stare at each other for another testing moment before she stands on her toes and touches her lips to mine.
Stunned at the thought of two women kissing me suddenly in one night, I hesitate and Mila pulls away, embarrassed. Smiling at the coy look in her eyes, I lean down and kiss her properly. It's going well until her hands stray into my hair. Instinctively, I jerk back. Confused, she looks up at me.
It takes me a second to recall the fact that I am not wearing my wig or my dyed hair but just my natural black hair. For years, I have been wary of strangers touching my hair even by accident. I can't risk anyone finding out my little secret.
"Are you ok?" Mila asks nervously. "I didn't mean to upset you."
"You didn't. I'm sorry. It's just…it's late. I'll call you a cab." Her face crumples at the abrupt end of our kiss and though I feel bad for the way I reacted, I can't really explain or justify my reaction. I just hope she can overlook it. I help her hail a cab, kiss her forehead goodnight and watch the car drive off. I linger on the road for a while with my hands jammed in my pockets.
Regret swells inside me for not asking her about her thoughts on the Danvarr quads in hopes of steering the conversation towards my looks. I wanted to ask her but the fear of her response ruining our perfect evening held me back.
I take the short walk towards my car. It's been a long time since I felt genuinely content in my own skin. Being Ashton, the blonde is more pressure than most people think, from father's demands of perfection to sustain the company and family's image to keeping up with quad rules. Hence, it feels liberating to just walk on the street, under the moonlight while the night breeze whooshes in my ears, with the added allure of nobody giving a fuck about me.
"Ashton?"
My fingers freeze on the car door. Slowly, I turn around coming face to face with a brunette whose short hair is flapping messily in the wind but that's not the weird part.
The weird part is that she's dressed exactly as my date who just left in a cab less than five minutes ago. But then there's the crazy part. Did she just call me Ashton??? Mila edges close to me coyly with both hands tucked behind her back.
"I'm not a creep, I swear."
"Not a step closer or you'll regret it." I warn her with a death stare. "What's behind you? Let me see your fucking hands, now!"
With a frustrated sigh, she reveals her hands and the blonde wig and bucket hat clutched in them. I gasp silently.
"I know what this looks like but please, let me explain." She tries to take a step closer and halts in her tracks at the burning look I give her. I don't know what the fuck is going on. Who the fuck is she and how the hell can she tell exactly which quad I am. Rather than demand answers, I slide into my car and shut the door. My heart is thumping wildly. My night just went from chill to crazy in under five minutes.
"Ashton, wait…" Mila taps on the window. "It's not what you think. I can explain everything. Just give me two minutes of your time."
I don't want to hear it. I don't know who this woman is or what she wants from me. My mind is spinning as I back off from the curb and swing the car onto the road. In the side mirror, I watch Mila standing and calling out to me as I drive off into the night.
Is this a dream? This can't be anything else. My second line buzzes with texts from Mila. At the sight of her name, I chuck the phone to the back of the car, cussing. I can't believe she played me or whatever it is that was. I might eventually need to find her and wheedle the truth from her but not right now.
I am fucking furious. Mila is a big fucking red flag. There are scary layers to her that I am not ready to face. The wig is one thing but knowing my real identity with pinpoint accuracy and contacting me through a very private channel is a whole different level of stalking. I have a million questions but I need time to recover from the shock.
When I get home, Ashley's car is dusty with a shallow dent due to my rough driving and bumping it into a lamp post. I pause to take a few calming breaths. My head is banging with a migraine.
Just before I step out of the car, I notice my dark curls in the rearview mirror. I grab my blond wig from the pigeonhole and put it on. Then I dig around for my discarded phone at the back seat and slip it into my back pocket before going into the house.
Disoriented, I use the elevator to get to my room. I just want to put this night behind me, to accept that Will is never going to happen and move on with life.
When the elevator doors open, Demi is standing right outside it. She's in her pajamas with her phone in hand, possibly on a call. Her eyes go wide with surprise on seeing me and I can only imagine how disheveled I must look. She hangs up her phone and locks eyes with mine.
The memory of our kiss hits me like a storm. Absently, my eyes dip to her soft, pink lips. Blinking, I step out of the elevator but before I can walk away, she grabs my arm.
"Ashton? A moment?"
I press my eyes shut as her soft voice reminds me of Mila. Though I am mad enough to burst a punching bag open with a few blows in the gym-which I plan to do-I turn to hear her out.
The reason I am indulging her is simple; Demi can recognize me because of my outfit. It's the same plain clothes I had one before leaving for my date. Mila on the other hand can't possibly know anything about me as we only just met for the first time tonight. No matter how hard I think about it, I can't understand how she knows what she knows about me.
My fiery eyes hone in on Demi's surprised ones. "What? You kissed me by accident. I get it. We are two fucking adults. We don't need to have the 'awkward talk'," I say with air quotes. "Don't sweat it. Besides, you're not really my sister-in-law so there's no need to nurse some misplaced sense of guilt over the incident. Ashley knows better than to take any of it personally. Now please be on your way. I don't have time for this bullshit." I pivot on my heels and start towards the hallway.
It's a little past 2am. Yet, I head over to the gym and sweat it out. It's frustrating that I can't tell my brothers about Mila. Doing so will require me telling them about Mr. Fantasy, Will and my struggle with self-discovery. The double rejection of Will scrapes at my pride as it is so I am not ready to open that can of worms yet. Plus, my brothers don't take secrets kept from them well. We all have one but the person who gets the heat is the one who fails to keep his hidden forever.
I go to bed, struggling to forget my date and Mila in general. I can't seem to put it out of my mind. After a lot of tossing and turning on my bed, I stop resisting the temptation and tune my mind to the one part of my evening that didn't suck; my kiss with Demi Branson.
***
"Are you ok, sir?"
I look up from my computer to glance at my personal assistant across the room. "Why wouldn't I be, Gris?" He adjusts his nerdy spectacles and sidles towards me.
"You came in earlier than everyone today, sir."
That stumps me. I lean back in my chair with a hand on my chin. "Isn't that what you've been begging me to do for the last two years? How did you put it?" I pause to recall his exact words and using my best imitation of his high-pitched voice, I continue, "Your punctuality will boost the morale of the employees and make them look up to you as a boss who leads by example."
Gris smiles. "I am glad you finally took my advice, sir."
"Don't get used to it. I am just here early because I have a few things to sort out." One of them being the mystery woman whom I had a date with last night. I need time to process everything and as fast as possible.
"Plus, you mentioned delegates from Spellman group are coming in to place an order for a mass purchase of Mercedes to gift their senior staff members. I wanted to be early for that meeting. I can't have our rival thinking a nepo baby like me doesn't put in the work, even if that might be true."
"Very well sir."
I ignore Gris' lopsided grin.
"What else is on my schedule for today?"
Gris adjusts his frames and clears his dry throat. "The meeting is slated for 10am-12pm. After your lunch break, you have a consulting call by 1pm. Then, a supervisory visit with the…" Gris trails off when my secretary, Rachel rushes in to apologize ahead of my impromptu guest. My face hardens at the sight of the one person I wasn't expecting to show up at my office.
"You again." I growl.