Page 81 of Twisted Truth

Her dress is picked apart as boring, even with the plunging open back. The stiffness between us is analyzed and dissected.And unfortunately, the pictures only add fuel to the fire. I do look stiff and uncomfortable in them. Ella looks reasonably relaxed, but it’s clear even from photos that something is off between us.

And now it’s news. And now all the glorious people of the internet get to weigh in on it.

“Two entertainment shows are doing segments on this this afternoon,” Matthew hisses, leaning down and placing his hands on my desk instead of sitting in a chair across from me. “And you don’t even want to look at the comment sections of the articles.”

I run my hands over my face.

“I thought the team had this handled. This is their job!”

“They did their job, Asher!Youdidn’t do yours!”

“So, because I didn’t smile and preen, I get bad press? That’s what the PR team is for, to make sure we’re practically bulletproof.”

Matthew scoffs. “You don’t have the luxury of feeling bulletproof in the press and acting however you want without regard for consequences. Your past with women is too long and too sordid. I’m going to ask one more time, and you’re going to fucking answer me honestly.What happened?”

“What do you mean what happened?”

“Don’t play stupid, Asher, it doesn’t suit you. When I left you and Ella Friday night, I gave you instructions to become closer, comfortable, moreintimatewith one another. And while Ella won’t provide details of what happened that night, she assures me that the two of you completed that task. She said when she went to sleep Friday night, that it had been a great time, connections were made, and she felt like you were both in a good place together. Then she tells me that you ghosted her all day Saturday, and then I saw with my own eyes the way you turned up Saturday evening. You were cold, distant, and rude. You ignored Ella and acted like being in herpresence was some sort of chore you couldn’t be bothered with.”

“I did not.”

“You did!” Matthew bellows. And I’m taken aback. We’ve had our verbal tussles over the two years he’s been my assistant, but I’ve never heard him yell like this. Ever. “I saw it, I heard it, I experienced it. Ella was not the problem Saturday night,you were!So, what happened? Why did Ella fall asleep in your arms, in your bed, happy and content on Friday night, only to be treated like she was a disease on Saturday?”

Fuck.

I rest my head in my hands.

“I had . . . one of my old dreams that night. I dreamed of the night my grandfather died.”

Matthew is quiet for a moment. He sits in one of the chairs. “I’m sorry that happened.”

“I . . . obviously didn’t handle it well. I honestly didn’t realize I was being so rude on Saturday. I knew I was in a bad mood, but I just chalked it up to that.”

“Asher, you’re going to have to get this under control. If you were this triggered on the first weekend, what do you think is going to happen moving forward? We’ve only begun with the press, with the attention. With the . . . possible threats.”

“I know,” I growl.

“No, I don’t think you do.”

“Excuse me?” My heart pounds so hard in my chest that I can hear it in my ears. Matthew is practically invaluable to me, but he’s crossing a dangerous line.

“You need to go back to therapy, Asher.”

“I was in therapy for a decade.”

“Yes, but you’ve beenout of therapyfor fifteen years. And it’s clear that you need it again. I understand, I truly do, why this is so hard for you, and I feel for you. What you went through . . .anyone would be heavily scarred by it. But it’s clear this situation has brought up a lot of things that were not fully resolved when you were in therapy. Things Ella has no idea about. Think about it from her perspective, Asher. She has practically given herself over to you, she’s done everything we’ve asked of her and more. And then, on the first night when things are real, when they mattered, you shut down on her, and she has no idea why. She thought everything was good, and then out of nowhere, it was anything but. What kind of whiplash do you think that feels like?”

God.

I let out a strained breath. “I fucked up.”

“Yes, you did. And now Ella’s suffering for it. Not just the hurt from you, but the vitriol of the people.”

“How the hell do I make this better?” I mutter into my hands.

“You can start with groveling.”

“Yes, of course.” I stand up from my desk and straighten my tie, on a mission.