Authors: Liz Madrid
Loving Ashe (20 page)
Sammi was one of those friends who was perfect to be around with at the worst possible times, and sometimes, even the best of times. He was there for you when you needed someone to make you feel better, or feel good about yourself, even if only for a few hours. He knew exactly what you needed, told you what you wanted to hear and was always there for you whenever you needed him.
But Sammi wasn’t exactly a friend, though he considered you as one, especially when you had something he wanted. He simply sold drugs. The appearance of friendship was just part of the business for some of his customers, if not all of them. It encouraged trust, making his customers believe that what he was selling them was prime stuff, the best. And it had always been the best. Why else did Riley get addicted to his stuff over every other dealer’s in the Upper West Side?
Riley knew all this before she’d started buying from Sammi three years ago because Gareth had to do some research for a role as a drug dealer and Sammi had let him in on his secrets. By the time Gareth left her, she knew where to find Sammi on her own, and when she did, she had the money to burn and nothing to burn it with.
And now, two years after she’d almost died from her overdose, with the needle still in her arm, Riley found herself standing in front of his apartment building. It was late afternoon and the only thing Riley wanted to do was drown her emotions, to un-see what she’d seen in Paige’s garden office and un-hear Gareth’s words. She didn’t care if she had to go back to heroin. Maybe just a little to take the edge off, help her go through the rest of her day. Surely Sammi would help her there, she thought, if only to escape from the feelings that filled her now.
Riley wished she could start the whole day again, or at least that part where she thought going over to Paige’s house was the best way to spend an afternoon, where they’d chat about life over glasses of white wine and wait till the triplets returned home from pre-school. Then they’d all pile on top of her and she’d tickle them one by one. She’d start off with Thomas before moving to Trey, and all the while Trevor would scream, ‘my turn! My turn!’ and squeal with unbridled glee when Riley finally got to him.
Maybe they’d ask her to help them build a boat out of all the throw pillows they could find, shaped into an oval on the rug. Paige would lay a large blanket over their intricate arrangement so that Riley and the triplets could pile into it, pretending it was their boat and that they were adrift in the ocean. Trevor and Thomas would go fishing, and Trey would snuggle up next to Riley.
“Yo, Riley,” Sammi said, emerging from the lobby. “You comin’ up or you just gonna stand there and be a stranger? There’s a party upstairs. Come on in.”
Riley took a step forward, the words refusing to come out of her mouth.
Just for a little bit
, she would have said.
Just to take the edge off
. But as she gazed at Sammi’s face, she could only see her nephews’ faces, jolting her. She shook her head and apologized. “Sorry, I thought I was free, but I have be somewhere.”
“What?” Sammi held out his arms as Riley walked away from him, her head hung low. “C’mon, baby, don’t be cruel. Where’s my hug, baby girl?”
“Sorry, Sammi, gotta go!” She called out, forcing a smile as she looked back at him, wishing she were as far away as possible from the past that she’d almost welcomed back. “I’ll call you, alright?”
Hadn’t she learned anything from that awful night more than two years ago, when she lost control and injected too much? When, after reading something Gareth had reportedly said about his success, that he could only credit sheer determination and luck to get him, a relative unknown, to star in an upcoming super-hero movie, she lost it and thought of ending her life with a push of a syringe?
Of course she’d denied it — that she’d tried to kill herself — but she had nothing to live for then. No one understood how going back home to live with her father had been the worst thing for Riley, how listening to his taunts about what a failure she was pushed her to find solace in heroin. Yet she had always refused Paige’s pleas for her to stay with her and her family in their million-dollar brownstone, and how Paige had wanted to convert it into an apartment for Riley instead of using it as her office.
Still, that Gareth couldn’t even be bothered to acknowledge her as part of his success was like a knife to her heart. She’d trusted him with her life since she was seven years old, gave herself to him when she was eighteen (because he actually waited) and then, determined that he’d be able to show up for his auditions, learn his craft and be there for rehearsals, she’d worked two jobs even though she was always exhausted, and would have wanted to attend college.
But hadn’t she worked her way out of all that already? Riley walked past a violinist in the subway, playing a haunting tune, and she absently dug out a five-dollar bill from her pocket and dropped it into his violin case. She’d gone through all those months in the upstate rehab center that Paige had sent her to, determined not to end up as a corpse on a cold metal slab whose track marks told the coroner her history before the blood had drained from her body.
She had made it out of that hell.
How then could she even consider returning to it when she had a man who loved her, who texted pictures to show her where he wished she was, which was right next to him? When had she lost sight of the things she had, focusing instead on the things she didn’t have and didn’t need? None of it mattered in the end, for she had lost Gareth long before that afternoon, when Hollywood called his name three years ago.
But Riley’s anger was no longer focused on Gareth. It was focused on Paige, the sister who’d just betrayed her. She didn’t care what Gareth said, that Paige wasn’t the one who kicked her out of the apartment, or that she didn’t give her the money.
It was Paige, she told herself. It had always been Paige.
Paige wasn’t home when Riley called her at nine that night. Clint said she had gone to the Plaza to hang out with some of her friends, since it was a girls’ night. How ironic, thought Riley, that Clint was so sharp at making money yet completely oblivious when it came to his wife. Was that how certain people functioned, with one sense honed to perfection at the cost of others? Was that how some partnerships worked?
There was no girls’ night, she almost told him. It was scheduled for next week. But Riley went to the Plaza anyway. Maybe she was hoping to catch Paige and Gareth together and shame them, or at least just Paige. Gareth had lost all sense of shame so many years earlier.
As Riley walked across the lobby, she spotted Paige at the bar sitting by herself, dressed in a simple white blouse and slacks, her back towards Riley. As she found an empty table in the far corner and sat down, she wondered if Paige was waiting for Gareth. It would have been too much of a coincidence, Riley thought, even if she vaguely remembered seeing something on Twitter about someone spotting Gareth at JFK. But it could have been old news. Gareth could still be at the hotel.
But if Paige was waiting for Gareth, she was waiting a long time, Riley thought as she glanced at her watch half an hour later. Paige simply sat at the bar, drinking by herself and turning away every man who spoke to her till finally, they left her alone.
It was now or never, Riley thought, as she headed for the bar and sat on the stool next to Paige, the woman she had looked up to for so long, though her idol’s feet had now turned to clay.
Jake, the bartender, greeted her as she sat down and asked her if she was having the usual. It was always vodka sours for Riley, just as it was Manhattans for Paige. Jake put her drink in front of her and looked at both their faces, frowned and then he said he’d be at the other end of the bar if they needed him.
“I know Clint is twenty years older than you, and maybe things aren’t that great in the bedroom, but I sure hope it was worth it, Paige,” Riley said, not looking at her sister. “All that talk about hating Gareth was just an act, wasn’t it?”
“It wasn’t an act,” Paige said, her gaze straight ahead. “But you wouldn’t understand.”
“Really?” Riley asked, turning to face her. “What could I possibly not understand after having seen you and Gareth together in the worse possible way? Why was he there in the first place? Did you call him?”
“Why would I call him?” Paige asked, turning to face here. “He came to the house and accused me of kicking you out of your apartment three years ago and giving you money to start over somewhere else — money you ended up using to buy your drugs. That’s why he came to the house.”
“Yeah, right,” Riley scoffed.
“He said he never even knew you got kicked out of your own apartment,” Paige continued. “I had always thought he was the one to kick you out of that place, but I had no idea about the money. I had always wondered where you got all that money to buy your drugs with, but why he’d think it was me is beyond me. You’re my sister, Ri.”
“The sister whose boyfriend you happen to fuck while I was with him,” Riley said and Paige stared at her, her face turning pale. “Yes, he told me that it happened once when we were together, But never again. Until today. I don’t care if he’s blowing smoke up my ass, Paige, but it still doesn’t change anything. You fucked Gareth. You kicked me out of that apartment and you left me all that money. Why, I have no idea.”
Paige sighed. Riley realized that her sister’s shoulders were slumped forward, which was unlike the Paige she knew, who always had her back straight and her shoulders proudly squared. But the woman who once had nothing to hide was nowhere to be seen.
“Believe what you want to believe,” Paige said. “Can we talk about this somewhere private?”
Suddenly Riley didn’t want to hear another word. She had said what she wanted to say and she was tired. She just wanted to go home, curl up in her bed for a few hours and shut out the world till Ashe came home. Then she could start over and pretend none of this had ever happened. But she also didn’t want Paige to think she’d simply blow this over without suffering any repercussions of her own. She wanted Paige to suffer, not caring what Gareth told her — that it was all his fault and not Paige’s.
“Here’s the deal,” Riley began through gritted teeth. “You’ve been intent on trying to live my life for me, telling me who to see, what to wear and where to go — all for my own good. Now it’s my turn to tell you what I want for a change. I don’t want to hear from you anymore. I don’t want you to call me, text me, email me, visit me or contact me in any way. The world can go to hell in a hand basket for all I care, but you will never see me again.”
“Riley – ”
“No, you listen,” Riley said, still keeping her voice low. “I’m going to live my life from here on as if I’d never had a sister, and if you have one inch of respect left in you, you won’t contact me at all or even show up at the cafe. If you do, I will tell Clint what I saw in your office. I guarantee you, Paige, that not even being the darling socialite of Manhattan will save you from losing whatever you get being Clint’s wife — money, status, whatever. And, believe me, Gareth won’t give a crap what happens to you.”
Paige paled. “Riley – ”
“Don’t you dare say anything else. You’ll just work your usual magic on me and make me see things your way all over again. Well, I’m done with that. I’m going to live my life on my own terms, and from here on in I have no sister.”
“Riley, the boys-”
“I don’t have any nephews, either. Make up whatever reason you like why I’m never coming to see them again, but it’s your problem. You should have thought about them first before you fucked him again,” Riley said, her rage barely controlled now. Something told her she was overdoing it with her nephews, for they did nothing wrong, but Riley couldn’t stop herself. She’d never been in this position before, being able to name her terms, no matter how ridiculous and cruel they were, and she loved and hated that it felt so freeing, even if the collateral damage included her own nephews.
“You and Gareth did this to yourselves, Paige. You made your bed, now lie in it.” With that Riley got up, leaving her drink untouched, and walked out. She should have felt satisfied with what she’d done, severing all ties with her sister and standing up for herself as well as she knew how at that moment, even if her actions were only the result of blind rage. But Riley didn’t feel any satisfaction after she’d said her piece, cutting herself off from the only family she had.
She felt no relief even when she arrived home either, locking the door behind her and stepping into the shower, hoping the water would wash away all the regret. Instead the tears came as she curled up in her bed, warm under the covers. They were tears of betrayal and loss, but most of all they were tears for what was to come, the repercussions of being alone, really alone.
And she found herself wondering, if she was only doing what was right for her, cutting all ties with Paige, why did she feel so miserable? Why was there a hole in the middle of her chest, growing deeper with every passing minute? Why did she feel so hollow?
Clearly Riley overdid herself with the melodrama the night before. Did she really need to banish the triplets from her life, too, when it was really Paige she was angry with? She found herself wishing she could rewind everything she’d said the night before and erase that part of her not having any nephews. They hadn’t done anything to her. They were simply innocent victims of their mother’s affair.
Riley sighed and wiped the fresh tears streaming down her temples, tickling her ear. There was nothing she could right then but worry even more, maybe even cry more when she really needed to stop before her eyes would swell shut. Besides, there were other things going on in her life — better things. Happy things. Ashe was coming home and she wanted to start fresh, even if she had to pretend that she was happy.
To do that, she needed to get out of the apartment instead of moping even more. So Riley got dressed in her best vintage Blondie T-shirt and jeans, piled on the make up over the dark circles under her eyes, and went to work. At least that would keep her busy, and being a Saturday, she was sure the Library Cafe would be filled with customers, despite the false review.
She had always wondered if people really bothered to read those online business reviews, and maybe they really did. But as the line of customers grew with each hour, every table occupied by regulars and new faces, books pulled from their shelves and haphazardly returned to the wrong ones, Riley figured if they did, they didn’t put much stock into it unless they saw it for themselves. Still, she figured that maybe she better start getting a hang of social media after all and learn how to counter such reviews. Taking a few business courses at NYU wouldn’t hurt either.
She could even go to college full-time. She’d always wanted to, and if it weren’t for having to help Gareth make it, she’d have had a degree by now. She could have even majored in English – and she still could.
By the time the afternoon rush was over, Riley had had enough of blending espressos, lattes and mochas. She was tired of smiling at everyone when she really wanted to cry, especially when every blonde woman who walked in reminded her of Paige. So she forced herself to get her act together. After all, Ashe was coming home.
Then she began to wonder how long she could hold herself together if ever-perceptive Ashe happened to ask her, “Is everything all right?” Would she bawl her eyes out and ruin everything? She felt like an overflowing dam, and one little tweak of the switch was all that was needed to let everything spill out.
“Is everything okay?” Tessa asked, and Riley felt her throat constrict. “You’ve been staring at the Ethiopian Djimma coffee for the last five minutes, like it’s going to sprout or something.”
“Sure, everything’s fine,” Riley said, forcing a smile and hoping that Tessa wouldn’t start her anahata mumbo-jumbo again. Though it had worked well that first time, this time she really didn’t want to be told what was out of whack with her chakras. For this time, it had nothing to do with her chakras. But as she turned her attention to counting how much of certain tea blends the cafe had in the storeroom, she could feel Tessa’s eyes still watching her.
“What is it now?” Riley asked brusquely, as she walked past Tessa to go into the office and get her purse. She should have been out the door ten minutes ago.
“Nothing,” Tessa shrugged. “I just wanted to tell you that if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m always around. Anyway, I’d better get back to work.”
“That’s probably a good idea,” Riley said, her voice softening as she watched Tessa return to the counter where someone was waiting to be served. Riley slung her purse over her shoulder, waved good-bye to everyone, and hurried out the door before tears threatened to spill down her face.
She could only keep up a facade for so long at a time, she thought. She hated missing Paige, and she hated knowing that she was punishing the triplets for their mother’s mistake. Already, she missed them terribly and wished she could see them and give them their usual hugs, and receive their enthusiastic hugs in return.
But everything had happened so fast — so fast that she’d barely had enough time to process everything that came afterwards, the denial of her own nephews and their mother. And now as she hurried home, she couldn’t help but feel that everything had changed and that everything hurt.
But maybe, one day, Riley told herself, it wouldn’t hurt too much.
At four that the afternoon, Ashe surprised her with a bouquet of roses delivered to her apartment, along with a note scribbled in someone else’s handwriting.
Dearest Riley,
Let’s have the time of our lives and get away (for a night; otherwise, Paige will probably file a missing persons report and so will my studio). If it’s a yes, then pack an overnight back, feed Miss Bailey, and wear something you can rock and roll in. The car will pick you up at 4:30.
Love Ashe (currently stuck at cruising attitude but I will be there!)
The note made Riley smile, probably her first real smile of the day. Of course it was a
yes
— and a big
YES
at that, she thought, her cheeks hurting from all the smiling. After asking Wayne to check on Miss Bailey in the morning, she packed a few clothes into her weekend bag and replaced her Blondie shirt with a vintage Aerosmith one.
By 4:20, Frank called up to tell her that a limo was waiting for her outside, and soon Riley was whisked to a private jet terminal close to the airport. A woman named Ashley met her at the lounge and led her past the lobby with their plush leather chairs and couches and out to the hangar where Ashe was waiting for her.
Dressed in a fitted white V-neck sweater and black jeans underneath a black coat, the sight of Ashe made all Riley’s troubles disappear. After the week she’d had, Riley couldn’t care less what anyone would have thought of a grown woman running into the waiting arms of a man. She ran towards Ashe, jumping into his open arms where he held her for what seemed like forever. Then he kissed her, before drawing away to look at her and burying his face in her hair and neck. Riley loved it whenever Ashe inhaled the scent of her, her neck tingling as his breath warmed her skin and ruffled her hair. He was really home.
“I’ve missed you, Riley-I-am,” he murmured in her ear, his grip around her waist tight and comforting.
Then someone cleared their throat from behind Ashe, and Riley realized that they weren’t alone. Two men were standing behind them and after Ashe put her back down, he introduced her to his childhood friends, Ben Stafford and Lance Purefoy.
“We’re running late, Ashe,” Lance said, laughing. “Shall we go?”
“Where are we going?” Riley asked as they followed the two men to a private jet in the middle of the terminal.
“It’s a surprise,” Ashe said.
Riley had had quite enough surprises in the last two days and she must have frowned, because Ashe squeezed her hand, pausing by the narrow steps that led to the cabin.
“Just let things happen, Riley. Tonight’s your special night. Trust me,” he said in her ear before following her up the steps.
From the moment Riley laid eyes on the interior of the private jet, she felt like a bona fide princess. Everything gleamed, from the gorgeous burl of eucalyptus paneling along the walls to comfortable wide seats and their dedicated TV screens. It wasn’t as if she’d never been on private planes before. Paige and Clint traveled to the Hamptons in Clint’s private jet and she’d gone with them many times, but this was different. There was no Paige nor Clint to thank for the luxury. This was just for her.
A few minutes after takeoff, they all made a toast to friendship and love and a night of rock-and-roll before settling down in their respective seats. No one was willing to tell her their destination, though Riley had a suspicion they were going to a concert — why mention a night of rock-and-roll if they weren’t?
“Are they your chaperones for the evening?” Riley asked, glancing at Ben and Lance, who were sitting towards the rear of the plane. “Because you just might need them, you know. I might attack you before the night is over.”
“Then I’ll send them away so you can do just that,” Ashe said, reaching towards her to gently pinch her nose. “Actually, we’ll be meeting Lindsay and Melissa at the hotel.”
“Who?”
“Lindsay is Ben’s wife and Melissa is Lance’s fiancée,” Ashe said. “I’m sorry that this turned out to be a group date. I was actually the fifth wheel. Can you believe that?”
“Never in a million years,” Riley said as Ashe held her hands on top of the table. “Anyway, I don’t mind, Ashe. I’m just happy to be in the same room with you.”
“I’m happier,” he said, grinning.
Riley knew that, in the happiness department, in this instance she had Ashe beat, but there was no point in arguing. She was elated to be with him and that was that. After Ben and Lance joined them in the adjoining table, she loved listening to them talk about growing up in Reeth, about the things they had done as kids and the trouble they’d all gotten themselves into. Lance, who had studied creative writing in London while Ashe was at the RSC, had ended up working with Ashe on
Besties
as the co-writer and producer, while Ben had moved to New York to pursue a career in film ten years earlier and had been instrumental in helping Ashe and Hazel form Rowan Productions.
An hour later, as they were swapping more stories about Ashe and his sheep-shearing duties on the family farm, the flight attendant reminded them to return to their seats and buckle their seat belts as the plane began its descent.
Riley knew where they were going the moment she saw the buildings and the bright neon lights of the casinos and hotels that Atlantic City was known for. However, she kept quiet and listened to what Ashe had to say, for she figured she’d heard enough of her own conversation over the seven days that he’d been gone. Tonight was her night to let go and let him take charge of everything. She was here and she was with him, and as far as Riley was concerned, the evening was already pure perfection, even if she had yet to learn what the surprise was.
She didn’t have to wait long. After check-in and a quick dinner at the hotel, they got into a limousine and headed for Boardwalk Hall, a historic landmark arena right by the famed Atlantic City boardwalk.
“You remembered!” Riley exclaimed as she saw the billboard for that evening’s act, her hand covering her mouth to stifle a scream, though she screamed anyway. Aerosmith!
“I certainly did, Miss Twenty Questions,” Ashe said, grinning. “Are you ready?”
Of course, Riley was ready. She was ready for anything that night and the night after that and the night after that. She wanted to cry because she was so happy but she also didn’t want to mess up her mascara and appear too emotional, even though she
was
emotional. She’d been through a roller-coaster ride the past 48 hours and this — being treated like she was the only thing that mattered to Ashe Hunter – was the best gift she could have asked for, or even dreamed of.
They were escorted to the VIP section, right in front of the catwalk extension stage. The place was already packed with people for, just as Lance had said, they were running late. Thankfully, they were not too late, for they arrived just in time for the opening act.
While Slash and Myles Kennedy and the Conspirators took the stage, Riley remained cool. She was the perfect rocker chick in her vintage Aerosmith T-shirt and tight jeans, and shit-kicking boots that completed her ensemble. And she needed nothing else to complete the look for the best accessory a girl could ever want was standing right behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist, holding her so that she could lean against him.
When Steven Tyler walked on stage, with Joe Perry performing his usual magic on the guitar, Riley just about lost it. She screamed at the top of her lungs, joining the thousands of fans doing the same thing, even Ashe and his friends who stood nearby.
She wanted to tell him that this was the best surprise ever, but she knew it wasn’t the time nor the place — not that he would have heard anything she would have said above the screams of the audience and the strains of the band. She screamed herself almost hoarse all night until she couldn’t scream anymore.
When Steven Tyler said he wanted to see a lot of making out and kissing in the audience just before singing Riley’s favorite song, Ashe spun her around so that she was facing him.
“I believe he means us,” Ashe said, kissing Riley before she could say anything else. Not that she would have objected, or said anything after that, for the moment his lips met hers, Riley forgot everything else.
With Ashe kissing her in the midst of her favorite song performed live, she must have died and gone to rock heaven. She didn’t even care if anyone took pictures of them, or if the resident cameraman spotted them and trained his lenses towards them. Riley didn’t care for any of that. What she cared about was standing right in front of her, holding her as he kissed her and when he wasn’t kissing her, lip syncing the lyrics to her.
It may be the corniest thing ever, she thought, watching him lip sync to the music. But it was the sweetest thing, the most perfect thing in the world as Ashe lowered his head and kissed Riley again.
