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As the night progresses, I hate that my mind can’t stay in this room. Ever since I returned from seeing Aspen a couple days ago, I can’t concentrate on anything. It’s ridiculous. The intense desire to be with her is killing me. I don’t know if I should have offered to be there by her side as she navigates through the toughest thing she’ll ever go through or give her space. I chose to give her space, but fuck if I’m not regretting it now.
Clapping and an elbow to my side brings me to the present. I clap along. “Stop clapping,” Bree whispers through a clenched teeth grin. “This is for you.”
Oh, shit. I paste a smile on my face and give a quick wave. My body temperature spikes and I can feel sweat break out on my back, but I try to remain calm.
“We thank you for your donation, Mr. Dallas,” the speaker says. I smile and tap my hand over my chest. As soon as the speaker moves on to the next donor, I lean over and murmur, “What did I miss?”
“A whole montage of how you helped five families this year with their wish from your donation.”
Shit.
She sighs. “I hope she’s worth it.” Her voice drips with disappointment and I grit my teeth, biting back the words that want to slice her open. She might be my public relations assistant, but she’s replaceable.
I don’t need her two-cents opinion on Aspen. She’s not up for discussion.
“Sorry,” she whispers, dropping her chin. “I worry about you.”
“When it comes to Aspen, don’t,” I clip, not able to hide my irritation. Tight-lipped, she turns her attention to the speaker. When her eyes fill with tears, I feel like an asshole.
It’s not the time or the place to have this discussion, so I let it go. It’s better we not have it now with emotions running high.
“We need to talk,” I say to Bree.
She kept quiet the rest of the night. We just left the gala and the awkward silence between us needs to end. Right now. She unfolds her arms from her rigid posture in the seat next to me, clasping them in her lap as she stares at me with expectation. I don’t know what she thinks I’m about to say, but sorry isn’t one.
“She is worth it,” I say with finality so there are no more questions, and then add, “now, we’re moving on to how to deal with the situation.” Aspen told me she’d be meeting her parents this week, so news will hit the fan any day now. Bree’s body doesn’t relax, her hands twist in her lap. “Is this a problem, Bree?”
She stares forward, and I can tell she’s saying so much more in her head than what is coming out of her mouth. After a few moments, she shifts her body toward me, her knee bumping mine through the slit in her dress. “Ryker, your priorities haven’t been straight since you met her. You’re off in la-la land or disappearing and I’m having to pick up the pieces.”
I nod, not being able to argue with that. She’s right.
“And… she’s not good for your image.”
The fuck?
She ignores my gaping mouth and continues. “You’ve dated international models and celebrities. It’s always gotten you a lot of press. Kept you in the spotlight. It’s helped you have constant exposure, which helps get you endorsements. She’s a nobody.”
I can’t help but laugh at how wrong she is. Running my hand across my stubbled jawline, I notice Pete in the front seat, shaking his head. I hear you, brother.
Now, I’m at an impasse. I was ready to tell her about Aspen and who she really is, but Bree’s just made a hard stance and I don’t know if I can trust her to be on my side anymore.
We pull up to Bree’s condo and she glances at me with a questioning expression. “Bree, it’s best if we part ways. It seems we have different outlooks for my future.”
“Ryker—”
I hold my hand up, stopping her. “I’ll make sure this doesn’t reflect badly on you with your company.” I glance at Pete and he gets out of the car. When he opens her door, I keep my attention forward ignoring her pleading glances. It’s too late for that.
Once Pete gets in the car, he twists his body to peer back at me. “If it’s any consolation, you did the right thing. Aspen’s good for you, even I can see that.”
I flash a tight smile. “Bree knows it too, but she’s too worried about her cash cow. I’m done being the puppet.”
* * *
“I don’t know you anymore,” jokes Donnie.
I flip him off, not in a joking mood. I lift the cold beer bottle to my mouth and I swallow down the entire contents in one gulp. I don’t have to wait long for the waitress to arrive with another. I watch her as she walks away, ignoring many requests from other patrons asking for another drink. The place is wall to wall people, yet I can snap my fingers and I’d grab the attention of a waitress, just like that.
This is what fame brings me. People notice me. And I didn’t get that shit because of who I was dating.
