An (Almost) Perfect Love Story (Love Story Book Three) Page 16

  He hugged both Emily and me when we met them at the door, saying he had heard a lot about us. He handed Emily a bottle of wine, and I beamed at Ryan. It was nice to see him with someone who had manners.

  As Ryan led his date into the living room, Emily grabbed my arm. “A sweater vest!” she hissed in my ear. “Ryan is dating a guy in a sweater vest!”

  I stifled a laugh, knowing she was as pleased as I was to find that Brian was, well, normal.

  In the kitchen, Emily began pouring the wine while Ryan peeked into the oven. “Lasagna?” he asked, closing the door again and turning to face me. “Who made this?”

  “Emily,” I said. Ryan gave a dramatic sigh of relief, and I stuck my tongue out at him.

  “Ashley cannot cook,” he explained to Brian. “Seriously. The girl burns Ramen noodles.”

  “Very cute,” I said.

  “We usually just let Ryan cook for us all. He’s definitely the most competent of our group.” Emily handed Brian a wine glass. “I took some classes a while ago so I can get by with a few things.”

  “Yeah,” Ryan said. “Just don’t ask her to make anything that isn’t lasagna, spaghetti, or ground-beef based.”

  “Don’t be mean,” Brian scolded, resting his hand on Ryan’s shoulder. I felt a little thrill, watching them. They looked so comfortable together, so natural.

  Dinner was great. Brian and I chatted about our respective schools and the pros and cons of teaching kindergarten versus middle school. He asked Emily all about Alpena, seeming fascinated by her descriptions of living up north in the woods. He was polite, funny, and engaged the entire meal.

  But I was really sold after the meal when Ryan asked me if I wanted to go see the new Ryan Gosling movie with him soon. Brian let out a loud groan.

  “Excuse me, sir,” Ry said, narrowing his eyes at his date. “Since you have refused to go with me, I am perfectly within my right to ask Ashley.”

  “I am not arguing with that,” Brian said, holding up his hands. “I am happy you’re asking her. Thrilled in fact. If it means you’ll stop bugging me about it.”

  Ryan rolled his eyes, but I had a feeling he was thoroughly enjoying their banter. “Em, you’d get along good with this one,” he said, hooking his thumb in Brian’s direction. “He has no taste in movies.”

  “Really?” Brian asked. “I would hardly call not liking vapid chick flicks equal to no taste. Better taste, maybe.”

  They sound like us, I realized happily. The two of them teasing like that, arguing, sounded just like the four of us. Hadn’t Emily, Chris, Ryan, and I had this exact same conversation a dozen times? I knew then that Brian would fit in perfectly with our little group. It made me ridiculously happy.

  “We should go,” Ryan said eventually, looking down at his watch. “We’re getting up early tomorrow.”

  “Big plans?” Emily asked.

  “We’re going down to Eastern Market,” Brian said. He looked completely at ease in our apartment, leaned back in his chair with one ankle crossed over his knee, his hand resting on Ryan’s knee. “We’ve got a whole shopping list.”

  “I’m going to cook for him tomorrow night,” Ryan said, his face lit up with a goofy smile. “Show off some of my culinary expertise.”

  Brian snorted. “Yeah, I’ll be the judge of that.”

  “He really is a very good cook,” I told him. “You’re in for a treat.”

  They grinned at each other, and I had a hard time not squealing. They were so cute.

  “Well, we’re meeting up with Chris to play basketball first,” Ryan said. “I’m hoping Brian works up enough of an appetite that he’ll be too hungry to notice if it’s bad.”

  “You guys are playing with Chris tomorrow?” I asked. Ryan and Chris played a pick up game with some friends at least once a week, but I had no idea Brian was joining them.

  “Yeah, Brian claims he’s really good at basketball.” Ryan’s expression demonstrated how little faith he put in that claim.

  Brian hit his arm lightly. “Watch it, buddy. If we end up on different teams you’re going to be sorry.”

  It made me happy, thinking about them hanging out with Chris. It was one thing for Ryan to bring his new guy over here for Emily and me to meet, but I knew he wouldn’t introduce him to Chris unless it was really serious.

  Brian hugged us both again at the door, thanking us for dinner. Emily was grinning at him like a fool as she urged him to come back any time, and I figured I didn’t look too much different. When Ryan hugged me, he whispered, “Did he pass?” in my ear.

  “I think I like him better than you,” I whispered back, kissing his cheek as he pulled away. Ry grinned down at me, looking happier than I had seen him in a long time.

  Once they were gone, Emily and I beamed at each other. We managed to wait until we were sure they were downstairs before we started squealing.

  Chapter Nineteen

  When Ryan called me the next Saturday night, I assumed it was to gush about his new boy. Brian’s sister was in town, and he wanted Ry to meet her. I assured him this was very good news, meeting the family so early, and secretly crossed my finger that he didn’t do anything stupid to mess it up. “Are you home?” Ryan asked as soon as I answered the call. I felt my stomach drop. He sounded anxious, upset. So much for not messing things up.

  “I’m home, yeah,” I told him. In fact, I was currently enjoying the peace and quiet of an empty apartment. Chris had gone up to Alpena to watch his sister get inducted into the National Honor Society, and Emily had tagged along to see her own father. I had the apartment to myself until Monday afternoon. I had been trying to answer emails from Jen and my mom. Apparently there had been some appetizer-based emergency that I was having trouble wrapping my brain around.

  “I’m on my way,” Ryan said, before hanging up. I sighed, feeling sad for him. I’d had such high hopes for the Brian-Ryan couple.

  Five minutes later, there was a knock on the front door. I pulled it open to reveal Ryan, looking every bit as upset as I had imagined. But there was something different in his eyes, something that I hadn’t expected. It took me a minute to identify it.

  Pity.

  Ryan steered me to the couch, pushing me gently into the cushions before he took a seat on the edge of the coffee table, directly across from me. “Sweetie, I have something to tell you.”

  The grave look on his face made me scared, suddenly. “What’s the matter?” I demanded, my heart starting to beat fast. “Is it…is it Chris?”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “No one’s hurt, or anything. It’s just…well…”

  “Ry, you’re scaring me.”

  Ryan took a deep breath. “Sweetie, I saw your mom at the bar in the Highmoor tonight.”

  I shrugged. “So? That’s probably the hotel she’s staying at.” Knowing my mom, it was. The Highmoor was pretty swanky, right up her ally.

  “Ash,” he said, looking pained. “She wasn’t alone.”

  I stared at him, not understanding what he was saying. “Who was with her?”

  “She was with another man. At the bar. And then…and then they went upstairs together.”

  * * *

  I woke up early the next morning, the light in my room hurting my eyes. I had slept terribly all night, crying myself to sleep and waking often from bad dreams in which I chased various people down endless hallways. Sometimes it was Chris, sometimes it was my mother, and sometimes it was even my sister Allison. No matter who the object of my chase, I never caught them.

  I rolled over and fumbled around on the nightstand, searching for my phone to check the time. I had silenced the ringer the night before after my mom had called three times. I knew that she was freaking out about the appetizer emergency, but after what Ryan had told me, there was no way I could talk to her.

  I found the phone and peered at the screen, seeing three missed calls from the night before. Two of them were from her but one was from Chris.

  “Hi, Sweetie,” he said, hi
s voice soft and somewhat raspy in my ear. “I miss you. I was hoping to catch you before you went to bed. I just wanted to tell you that I love you, Ashley. I really, really do. I don’t think I tell you that enough.”

  He paused and in the silence I could feel my heart beating fast. “I’m so glad we’re getting married,” he said. “I just wanted you to know that. Call me when you can.”

  The voicemail ended and I rolled back over, tears stinging my eyes. A message like that would normally have me mooning over my adorable fiancé for hours. Now, I just felt ill. He had called at eleven last night, right around the time I usually went to bed. I debated calling him back, but I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t explain it, but I felt panicky every time I thought about telling him what Ryan had witnessed at the hotel.

  This is all her fault, I thought to myself, a rush of anger shooting through me. It’s all her fault.

  Suddenly determined, I pulled myself out of bed and marched straight for the shower. I was going to that hotel room this morning. I was going to catch her in the act and make her admit what she was doing. And then I was going to make sure everyone else in the world knew it, too. Perfect Amber Phillips was about to lose the reputation she had spent her whole life cultivating.

  And I would be happy to be the one to do it.

  Chapter Twenty

  Once I got to the hotel, I was unsure of how to proceed. I had imagined throwing open her hotel room door and shouting, “A ha!” in her face, but now that the moment was here, I was suffering from stage fright. Besides, I didn’t even know what room was hers.

  “Can I help you with something?”

  The receptionist was peering at me over the marble counter in the lobby.

  “Uh, no, thank you. I was just…I’m supposed to meet my mother here. She’s a guest.”

  “Can I call her for you?”

  I blushed. “I forgot to write down her room number. She’s, uh, expecting me. I’ll just wait.”

  “Why don’t you have a seat?” The receptionist suggested, pointing me in the direction of a few plush sofas around the perimeter of the room. I tried to smile and went to sit down next to a large potted plant, my heart pounding.

  What are you doing here, Ashley? I asked myself. You have no plan.

  Before I could berate myself further, I caught sight of my mother across the lobby. She was exiting from the elevators, a smile on her face, a man on her arm.

  It was funny. He should have been the one I was interested in, this mysterious man who had broken up my parents’ marriage. But I found, instead, that I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her. She looked happy, even younger than usual. She was wearing a T-shirt and jeans, about as far from an Amber Phillips-approved outfit as you could get. And her hair. She hadn’t blown out her hair that morning. It had dried, curly, just like mine, except for the color. I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen my mother with her natural curls. She usually did her hair before even coming downstairs for coffee. I had actually forgotten that I got my curls from her.

  It was like looking at a stranger.

  She didn’t see me, either because the fern hid me or because she was too preoccupied with the man beside her. At any rate, she walked him all the way through the lobby to the foyer. They paused there, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss him. I felt like I might throw up, but I couldn’t look away. I watched as they said goodbye and parted, him heading out into the sunshine, her watching him for a moment before turning back to the lobby.

  I sat, frozen, as she flounced through the lobby, waving at the receptionist as if they were old friends. When she reached the elevator, the car was just arriving at the lobby. She waited while the occupants trudged off with their luggage before climbing on board herself. When the doors slid shut, I got up and hurried to the elevator bank, hitting the call button and crossing my fingers as I watched the numbers on the digital display climb. They came to a stop at four.

  The next car arrived, and I jumped in, punching the button for the fourth floor. I’d knock on every door if I had to.

  I got lucky—my mom had paused to talk to another guest outside her door. She was laughing at whatever the lady said as I exited the elevator. I saw her wave goodbye before she disappeared behind door four-twenty-one.

  I walked down the hall, pausing outside the room I had just watched her enter. My heart was pounding and my hands felt numb. I wondered if this was what shock felt like. I supposed there was a part of me that hadn’t believed what Ryan had told me. I figured he must have been mistaken. No matter what my mother might be, no matter what she had done, I couldn’t believe she would have an affair.

  I had been wrong.

  I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. A moment later, it swung open and I was face to face with her. She was smiling, about to say hello, as if she was expecting someone. When she registered my face, her mouth dropped open.

  “Ashley!” she cried, reaching out her hand to me. “Sweetie, what a nice surprise.”

  “Hello, Mom.” My voice was like ice. She seemed to flinch for a moment, but then her perfect smile was back, and she was ushering me into the room.

  “I wasn’t expecting company,” she said, sounding a little shrill. “Housekeeping won’t be here for another hour. I do apologize for the mess.”

  She was living in what appeared to be an extended-stay suite. There was a sitting room and a kitchenette, with a separate area for a small dining table. Through a doorway, I could see the edge of an unmade bed. A flash of rage shot through me as I realized my dad was paying for all of this.

  “If you don’t mind waiting for a minute, I can do my hair and change. Then we could go get a nice cup of coffee. How does that sound?” She was almost rambling, and I was struck with the impression that she was nervous. I didn’t think I’d ever heard her nervous before. “Sweetie? Ash? How does that sound?”

  I walked slowly to the bedroom doorway. “I know,” I said, my voice coming out strangely croaky. There was a vase of roses on the bedside table. Did he buy them?

  “How about some water?” she asked from behind me, clearly wanting me away from the bedroom. I turned to her and saw she was holding up a glass pitcher filled with ice water. Her smile seemed frozen, forced. Had she heard me?

  “I know,” I said again. “I know what you’re doing.” My voice was low, still croaky. I was almost afraid at how angry I was. My hands were shaking.

  “What are you talking about?” she asked, setting down the water pitcher and looking at me. Her eyes were wide.

  “What’s his name, Mom?”

  I thought some color drained from her face, but otherwise she didn’t react. “What are you talking about?” she repeated.

  “I saw him leave a minute ago,” I said. “What’s his name?”

  She stared at me, definitely scared now, but didn’t respond.

  “I want to know his name. I want to know who you’re cheating on my father with.”

  “It’s none of your business,” she said, her voice tight. “You don’t get to talk to me like this, Ashley, I’m your mother—”

  “You’re an adulterer,” I snapped. “You’re cheating on Daddy. You’re here, in the hotel room that he’s paying for, screwing around with another man.” All of the color had drained from her face now; she looked like she was going to be sick. Somehow, that just made me angrier. “What kind of a person does that? How could you?”

  “Ashley, your father—”

  “Don’t you try and blame him,” I screamed, completely losing my cool now. I’d wanted to yell at her for months. “He doesn’t deserve this!”

  “You don’t know—”

  “I don’t care! It doesn’t matter what was wrong with your marriage, you don’t do this! You have problems, you try and work them out! If you can’t, you get divorced. You don’t have an affair.”

  It felt good, losing my temper. I had never actually fought with my mother before—I was always too worried ab
out upsetting her. That worry was gone now. I didn’t care if I made her mad, disappointed her, hurt her feelings. None of that mattered to me. It was strangely freeing.

  “I didn’t mean to fall in love with him,” she whispered, a tear falling down her cheek. I stopped cold.

  “You love him?”

  “Oh, Ashley, of course I do,” she cried, wiping her face. “Do you think I could do something like this if I didn’t?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. All of my rage had been replaced by a sick, hollow feeling. The speed of the transition made me feel dizzy. “I don’t know you at all, not anymore. I have no idea what you’re capable of.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Like hell it isn’t. What’s not fair is this,” I spread my arms out wide, encompassing the room. “How could you let him pay for this? It’s disgusting.”

  “Your father and I never divvied up our money,” she said, her voice defensive. “I might not have brought a paycheck into the house, but I did take care of everything else. His food, his home, his children, his dull work events.” Her voice was getting louder with each word, as if she had a right to be angry with him. “That money is just as much mine—”

  “Bullshit,” I said. Her eyes grew large—I don’t think I had ever sworn in front of her before. I couldn’t care less. For the first time in my life, I was free from the desire to impress my mother. “It’s not yours for this,” I continued. “It’s not yours to pay for your…your fuck pad, or whatever the hell this is.”

  “Ashley!” she cried, slapping a hand over her mouth. “How dare you—”

  “You tell him,” I said, interrupting her. It was just like her to be more offended by a curse word than by her own cruel behavior. She was always, always more concerned with the superficial. Well, I didn’t need her recriminations; I wasn’t the one in the wrong here. “You tell Daddy that you’re having an affair. You tell him or I will.”

  I turned to leave, sick of looking at her. At that moment, I was pretty sure I’d be happy to never see my mother again.