God, I Hate That Man Read online

  I point to an empty table and raise an eyebrow in question.

  Ashley nods.

  I lead her to the table and we sit down.

  We’ve just sat down and start to sip on our champagne when we’re approached by a couple of clients of mine. They sit down and after I make the introductions, they start talking to Ashley about her charity work.

  I can feel the champagne starting to have an effect on me. I’m actually enjoying this party, and it’s the first one of these society parties I can ever say I’ve truly enjoyed. I know why. It has nothing to do with the party. It’s all because I’m here with Ashley. I catch something my clients say, and it sounds like they might be interested in making a donation to Ashley’s charity. It’s her turn to shine without me hanging on to her like a dead weight. I put my hand on Ashley’s arm to get her attention for a second.

  “Excuse me,” she tells the men and turns to me. “Is everything okay?” Her eyes beg me to let her get back into this conversation.

  “Everything’s fine. I’m just a little bit too hot, so I’m going to go out onto the balcony to grab some air,” I whisper in her ear. “I won’t be long.”

  “Ok.” She nods. “I’ll be here.” She turns back to her conversation as I stand up and head for the large double doors leading outside. I look back at Ashley before I step outside. She’s making a point she’s passionate about; I can tell by the way her hands are moving. The two men she’s talking to are hanging on her every word and I feel a pang of jealousy, which I push away. I don’t need to be jealous. The most beautiful woman in the world is here with me.

  I step out onto the balcony and move to stand against the railings. The cool air soon has me feeling refreshed and I’m just about ready to go back inside when my father joins me.

  He stands beside me at the railings and lights a cigar. He smiles at me and then he looks out over the grounds of the house. “It’s hot in there, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” I agree.

  He falls silent for a moment and I think that is all he is going to say, but he turns to me. “You haven’t told Ashley yet, have you?”

  Shit. I didn’t see this one coming. “No,” I reply with a sigh.

  “Are you in love with her?”

  I haven’t even told her I love her yet. I’m not about to tell my father first. “I’m just doing what needs to be done. Nothing more, nothing less,” I inform levelly.

  “But you and I both know it doesn’t need to be done, don’t we?”

  “It’s too late, Dad. Everything is in place for the wedding.”

  “I know you think you’re rising to your grandpa’s challenge or whatever nonsense you’ve cooked up in your head, but let me say this one thing and then I won’t say another thing about this. There’s nothing noble about marrying a girl you’re not in love with.”

  “I didn’t say it was noble, Dad. I said it had to be done,” I point out. I turn to walk away and I freeze in my tracks.

  Ashley is standing right behind us, and judging by the expression on her face, she’s heard every word of our conversation.

  My father seems to note the atmosphere has become both charged and icy at the same time. He turns around and when he sees Ashley, he swallows hard. “Please excuse me,” he mumbles before he throws his almost full cigar, still lit, into the ashtray and practically runs back into the party.

  Great. He blows all of this shit up then runs away and leaves me to deal with the fallout.

  “Ashley,” I call, taking a step towards her.

  “Don’t come any closer, Finn,” she commands in a low voice. “And don’t even fucking think about touching me.”

  “You don’t understand,” I start.

  “I understand perfectly well,” she snaps, cutting me off before I can even begin to explain. “You weren’t sure the money was enough of a reason for me to go through with this, so you played with my feelings, and made me believe there was something between us. You’re a complete and utter bastard Finn Jagger, and I hate you. I absolutely hate you.” She turns and runs.

  I start to chase after her, but she’s got a good head start. I really didn’t see the running coming and she’s already almost all the way across the room before I enter. I step around a waiter who tries to give me a glass of champagne, and by the time I get around him, she’s gone.

  I think maybe it’s for the best. If I try to talk to her now, we’ll only end up fighting. I decide to give her time to get home and cool down and then I’ll go to her when I get home and we’ll talk. We desperately need to talk.

  I leave ten minutes after Ashley leaves the party. It’s as long as I can bear to wait. I feel sick every time I think of the way she looked at me when she thought I was just playing with her. I don’t want to lose her. I don’t give a shit about the wedding. If we cancel it, we cancel it. But I need Ashley. I need her right by my side every day and every night. And I’m ready to tell her that.

  I walk through the apartment and look in my bedroom, even though I know Ashley won’t be in there. She’ll have gone back to the guest bedroom to lick her wounds there. I move down the hallway to the guest bedroom and knock on the door.

  Silence.

  “Ashley, we need to talk.”

  Still silence.

  “Ok, I’m coming in.”

  I wait a moment and then I take a deep breath and push the door open.

  She’s not there. The wardrobe doors are open and two of the drawers in the chest of drawers are open. And they’re all empty.

  Ashley has gone and the only thing remaining that tells me she was ever really here is the Lee Childs book she borrowed. It sits on the center of the duvet, mocking me as my heart breaks.

  20

  Finn

  I’ve spent the whole weekend calling Ashley, leaving voicemails for her when she refuses to answer the calls. I’ve been sending her text messages and emails, all of which she has chosen to ignore. I have to see her, have to speak to her. Even if she still tells me to go to hell, at least I’ll know I tried, and she’ll know I wasn’t using her.

  At no time did I do that.

  For all of Saturday and Sunday, I keep hoping she’ll show up, and every time my phone rings, I answer it on the first ring letting myself hope it will be her, but she never shows up and none of the calls are from her.

  I go into the office both days, which has become unusual for me over the last few weeks because now I finally have something to live for outside of the office.

  I barely slept over the weekend, working until well after midnight and coming back to the office before six am. The apartment is just too quiet without her. Even at the office, a place that’s always been my sanctuary, somewhere I can just forget all of my problems. To switch off, and just throw myself into my work, I’m suffering. I’m doing what needs to be done, but I feel like I’m just going through the motions, just doing things on autopilot.

  No matter where I am or what I’m doing, all I can think about is Ashley.

  I keep thinking of her arms and legs wrapped around me, her body glistening with sweat as I rock her world. I hear her moaning my name as she comes. Her face, like an angel above me. I can’t believe I was blind enough to think she wasn’t attractive when I first met her. She’s easily the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever met.

  When I’m not thinking about sex and Ashley’s body, I’m thinking about her musical laughter, about the passion in her eyes when she talks about her charity and the way she throws herself into the path of danger at the drop of a hat if one of her kids needs her. The way she goes above and beyond for them.

  Even in the few hours of restless sleep I have over the weekend, I don’t have any reprieve from the mental torment of her. I dream of her constantly. In it, we are always having sex. Great sex. I tell her I love her and she says she loves me too. Then she laughs, a sound that echoes back to me a thousand times. Then I wake up and remember it was only a dream and the reality is… she hates me.

  The very worst thing t
hough, is how I can’t get away from that hurt look she gave me before she ran from me at the party. It was a cross between contempt for me, and the look of someone who has been betrayed so badly they might never recover from the hurt. A look that said she hated me for letting her think I was different, a look so broken that it made me hate myself for putting it on her face.

  I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I’ve given her enough time to cool down. I’m scared if I approach her too soon when she’s made it clear she doesn’t want to talk to me, I’ll only anger her further and she won’t really hear what I’m saying.

  But I’m scared that if I don’t talk to her soon enough, she’ll assume she was right and I don’t give a flying fuck about her. And when I do try to talk to her, she’ll think it’s just an afterthought, a way to appease my own conscience, or worse to try and make sure the wedding still happens to save face.

  The tension is making me crazy and I hate the out-of-control feeling. I need some advice. From someone who actually has a successful relationship. I mentally go through a few of my friends in my head, but none of them know my upcoming wedding is a sham, and by the time I’ve explained all of that, I’ll just make Ashley look bad.

  That really only leaves me with two options of who I can talk to about this. My mom or my dad. My mom won’t be in the least bit impressed if she thinks I’ve hurt Ashley. Ashley has really grown on her over the last few weeks.

  So my dad it is then. He’s in a successful relationship, and to have negotiated his way through almost forty years of marriage with my mother, it’s fair to say he knows how to handle a problem or two. He could probably write the book on how to talk his way out of tricky relationship situations with someone who is as stubborn as hell. Because that’s both my mom and Ashley.

  I pull my phone out of my pocket and call him. The phone is ringing now and it’s too late to change my mind.

  “Finn, what’s up?” My dad answers.

  “Ah not much, I’m just at work and thought I’d give you a call. What’s up with you?”

  “I’m okay,” Dad says. “But I’m not the one making a seemingly pointless phone call in the middle of the work day. So stop pretending like everything's okay and tell me what’s really going on.”

  My father is much more observant than I give him credit for. “You were right, Dad,” I blurt out. “I do have feelings for Ashley. And she’s so pissed off at me she won’t even take my calls. I have to make her see that I love her and the only reason I denied it to you was because I hadn’t told her yet.”

  “I knew it.” There is great satisfaction in his voice.

  “Yeah Dad, thanks for the I told you so. Now what do I do? How do I make her understand?”

  “Does she feel the same way about you, Finn?” My dad asks.

  “I hope so. I mean, I think she does. At least she did, but after what she overheard at the party, she now thinks I was just leading her on and acting like I felt something for her to make certain she went ahead with the wedding. So now, I’m not so sure.”

  “It’s been three days since she overheard that conversation, Finn. She might be mad at you. She might even be wishing she’d never fallen for you, but she did. And feelings like those don’t just go away in a couple of days, even when we so desperately want them to.”

  “God, I hope that’s true.”

  “It’s true,” my father insists. “You want my advice? Go to her. She can ignore your calls, but it’s a lot harder to ignore someone when they’re right there in front of you. Talk to her, tell her how you feel, and admit that you’re an idiot. She’s known you for over three weeks now, Finn. It’s fair to say she knows you’re not exactly good at this stuff.”

  “Thanks for that, Dad,” I answer dryly.

  “It’s true, isn’t it? You’re brilliant in the boardroom, but not so much when it comes to women.”

  “What if I do all of that and it still doesn’t work?” I ask, ignoring his comment.

  My father pauses for a second. “If that doesn’t work, then you’ll have to deal with the consequences of your actions and get over her. But is that really going to be any worse than it is now? At least if you know for sure it’s over, you’re not hanging in limbo and holding on to the hope of something that’s never going to happen. But more importantly, what if it does work? What if she sees you’re genuine and decides to forgive you? You’ll have everything you ever wanted right there in front of you.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” I say sincerely.

  “Are you going to do it?” My dad asks.

  “Yeah, Dad. I’m going to do it. I’m going over to her office right now.” I laugh softly. “Holy shit! Yeah, I’m going to do it. I’m going to go and tell her I love her.”

  “Go get her, son,” my dad encourages with a laugh.

  I make my goodbyes and hang up. Grabbing my jacket, I rush out of my office. I’m really going to do this. Right now. “I have to go,” I call out to my secretary. “Something important has come up, so clear my whole afternoon please.”

  “Got it,” she announces, looking a little surprised to see me practically running out of my office.

  I run to the elevator and wait impatiently for it. When it finally comes, I hop in and ride it to the ground floor. I hurry across the lobby and by the time I’m outside of the building, I’m actually sprinting towards the parking lot.

  I get into my car and drive as fast as I can.

  As I approach Ashley’s office, adrenaline floods my system. I am excited and terrified in equal measure. All I have to do is convince Ashley that I love her and that I didn’t want my father to know before she did, and then we can be together. But while it sounds simple, it’s no small task. Ashley was hurt, really hurt, and I’ve seen how stubborn she can be. It’s going to take a lot of work to get her to come around. But that’s okay, because I’m willing to put the work in. I’ll do whatever she wants, wait as long as it takes for her to see this is for real.

  I pull up outside of Ashley’s building and my jaw drops open. The building is all closed up, the shutters down. I get out of my car and look around, confirming I’m in the right place. I definitely am. I turn in a slow circle, looking around, as if the answer to what happened here is going to magically appear in front of me.

  I mean I know Ashley was upset, but to not come in to work? That’s not like her at all. And why didn’t she get Andrea to open up the place if she couldn’t face coming in?

  Eventually, after standing here staring at the building for a few moments, wondering what’s going on, I get back into my car. I think for a moment, then I pull my phone out and call Tyson and ask him to find Ashley’s parents’ address for me. I’m done waiting and I feel like if I don’t do this today, now, I never will. If Ashley isn’t at the office, then I’ll just have to find out where she is and go there. I end the call and sit waiting impatiently for Tyson to get back to me with the address, tapping my fingers against the steering wheel the whole time.

  She must be hurt really bad to not even have come to work. God, what the fuck have I done? Nice going, Finn.

  I hear a light tapping sound on my window and I glance up.

  A scruffy looking kid is standing beside my car.

  The old me would have waved her away, shooed her from me like a nuisance stray cat, but the new me, the me Ashley teased out, doesn’t try to get her to go away or ignore her. Instead, I open the window and look up at her. “What’s up kid?” I ask.

  “I’m sorry to bother you sir, but I wondered if you maybe had some spare change for a sandwich or something?” The girl asks.

  I study her for a moment. She looks to be around fifteen and although she’s a little dirty looking and her clothes have a few holes here and there, she doesn’t look like she’s high or drunk.

  As I look at the girl, I hear Ashley’s voice in my head as clear as if she was sitting right here beside me… imagine being fifteen and not having eaten for three days and not one of the adults who you encounter on a dail
y basis cares enough to help you.

  “Sure,” I say. I start rooting around in the glove compartment of my car looking for some change to give her. “Listen kid, do you have any idea what happened to the office here?” I point to Ashley’s building.

  “I wish I knew,” the girl said. “The place was a charity that helped kids like me. The lady there would give us food and try to help us.” The girl’s eyes fill with tears. “She was contacting social services for me, trying to get me a place in a foster home. I guess that’s over now.”

  “You wanted to go into the system?” I ask, a little surprised to hear it.

  “No, sir. What I wanted was for my mom not to move in with her druggie boyfriend, but she chose him over me.” She shrugs. “I guess a foster family has to be better than this shit, right?” She gestures around herself.

  I stop rooting through the glove compartment and sit up to look at the kid. I make a snap decision in that moment. I’m going to help this kid. “Get in the car,” I say.

  The kid starts to back off and I realize how that must have sounded.

  “Wait,” I say quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. Let me explain. The lady who ran the charity, Ashley, she’s a friend of mine. Actually, she was more than a friend, but I screwed up and… never mind. Anyway, I know Ashley and she wouldn’t have given up on you, so don’t give up on her, okay? Get in the car and I’m going to take you and book you into a Travel Lodge where Ashley can contact you when she finds you somewhere. Would that be all right?”

  I can see the dilemma in the girl’s eyes. She so badly wants to trust me, but she’s afraid. She’s probably been let down so many times before that she’s having a hard time thinking I can be anything but one of the bad guys.

  “I’m trying to help you,” I tell her gently. “What can I say to make this sound less creepy?”

  The girl laughs softly and her eyes hold mine for a moment rather than flitting around looking for an escape route.