"I stuck around way too long. Then one night, at a dinner party in a plush restaurant, surrounded by so much pretentiousness it threatened to swallow me, I saw the light. My twelve-hundred-dollar Saint Laurents led me to the bar next door, which changed my life. When I was ready to make my break, no one in Chicago needed to know where I was."
Evin's head swings to Miller, then back to me, realization dawning. It's clear he's heard the outlandish charade Miller spread of our first meeting. Miller ignores him.
"What the fuck is a Saint Laurent?" Miller questions.
"My shoes."
"They cost twelve-hundred-dollars?"
"Those did."
"Jesus." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Good to know, Princess."
His use of the endearment doesn't even faze me anymore. "How do you think I earned my nicknames?"
"Kids, can we get back to the important stuff?" Evin breaks in. "While I think the story of you meeting is preposterous, Ashlyn is not crazy, and this asshole needs a response."
"How long can he use this as a stall tactic?" Miller asks.
"The best way to combat this with less drama is to have my mom sign since she's the beneficiary and listed on all paperwork."
"That's unnecessary, Ashlyn. We can battle this easily. At some point, he will break the law."
"Personally, I want to hang him by his balls and watch him squirm, but I've seen this many times before. He can put a spin on it and challenge my sanity all he wants, but it's a total sham. He's waiting for my response, and I can't even fathom dealing with him until I calm down."
"Damn, I was hoping to nail him." Evin looks shattered with my change of direction.
"We'll nail him in a better way. As luck has it, my parents will be here in two days. Mom and I will fill out the forms, double them up, and I'll write a letter demanding my money more authoritatively."
"Okay, I'll be waiting to hear from you on Thursday." Evin stands.
"I'll walk you to the door," Miller offers, pushing off the counter.
"Evin," I take a deep breath and find the courage before walking to him and throwing my arms around his shoulders in a soft embrace, "thank you for looking out for me and not believing the ludicrous allegations Ian tried to plant in your head."
"Ashlyn, why the fuck would I ever—"
"Shut it, man," Miller cuts in, "and enjoy it. Gratitude and appreciation aren't her strong points."
My cheeks flame and I step back, ready to let him have it, when I'm engulfed from behind, Miller's powerful arms holding me in place. His hold reawakens my overworked muscles and I whimper.
"You didn't seem too sore when you were ranting."
"My adrenaline is crashing."
"Time for that bath."
"On that note, I'll walk myself out." Evin gives a quick salute and leaves us, the door shutting a few seconds later.
Miller stays quiet, too quiet, and my nerves tingle. "Miller?"
"You'll get some invoices this week. If it's not too late, I'll get accounting to tag them, but otherwise, ignore them. We'll put an extension on your account until you get this straightened out."
Oh my God! He's worried about my money. "There's no need for that."
"I get you’re proud and this will wig you the fuck out since you think we're moving fast. But you need anything, ask me. While you're here, I take care of all your expenses."
I fight back the stinging in my eyes and nose, wiggling loose enough to spin and wrap my arms around his neck. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm good."
"I'm sure you are, but if this motherfucker holding up your transfer pinches you in any way, come to me."
I've never been comfortable discussing finances. No one, even my family, is fully aware of all my accounts, the balances, and all the investment choices I've sunk my money into. But at this moment, with the sincerity in his eyes, I feel content having this conversation.
"Sweetheart," his face softens at the endearment. I press a quick kiss to his lips and continue. "Your offer is very generous and I am thankful, but I'm not worried about funds. I made a generous salary, ungodly bonuses, and saved well. Outside of my extravagant designer closet and presents for my family, I rarely splurged. My savings will hold me over for at least a year without pulling from my other areas. The house is financed, only because it's a smart tax decision, and the remodel is in a loan because it also makes sense. But I am not worried about paying my bills."
"This morning, you freaked about this ass taking your livelihood."
"I've been highly melodramatic, but that's because this morning I was shocked. My wits have come back to me. There is no way he could legally do anything to keep my business. I don't like Ian thinking he can drive his Maserati off my hard-earned money, then threaten to withhold it."
His eyes travel over my face, and I can tell he believes me when his gaze goes soft. "Don't like people fucking with you."
"And I appreciate that." I purposely emphasize the word.
"Baby, I hate this happened, but—" he pauses and I finish for him.
"… let myself out of my shell and lost my mind? Verbally vomited to a basic stranger and filled you both way into my personal business?"
"How about let loose and let yourself shine through?"
"Guess so." I shrug.
"I enjoyed it."
"Well, considering I've had a complete emotional rollercoaster this morning, I'm hoping for a brief reprieve today."
"What are you thinking?"
"No more sledgehammer or lifting anything over two pounds?"
"We can do that. One day rest period for a rookie is acceptable."
"Should we get back to my house?"
"Soon." He dips down and kisses me gently. "I have a lot of questions, Princess. One is bugging me most."
"Ask."
"How much money is this guy trying to hold on to?"
I bite my lower lip, sliding my eyes to the side, and deciding. Miller will not betray me like the serpents in my old life. I
