be such dogs that you don’t have to be their type. All you need is an orifice for sex, and the last time I checked, you had three.” My mouth balled as I did the math mentally. Samantha stood. “All I’m saying is these people live on different planets because of their wealth. Al took a picture with his older brother and the Al Jarreau over Thanksgiving break. The Al Jarreau.” Her arms shot in the air again. “The brothers were named after him! I had to sit through English Lit listening to Aivery tell her friends in front of me how she helped her mom pick the winter rental home they’ll be staying in over the winter break…in Paris! Friggin’ Neuilly-sur-Seine!” She nodded with wide eyes.
“Yeah.” I laughed. “But you’re not exactly poor either. Your father’s a chemist for a top pharmaceutical company.”
“But he doesn’t own Semiest. He’s just worked for them for a bazillion years and bosses people around.”
“Not everyone’s father is an owner. What about Andrea?”
“Her mother’s family is steeped in winemaking in Sonoma County, California! Her father married into millions.” My jaw fell. “And ShawnNicole’s father’s flying her out to California to meet with some world-class hairstylist for a week-long shadow session. ESPN just gave him his own show. Dre’s father was honored by the governor of New Jersey the Saturday after Thanksgiving and then preached at T.D. Jakes’ church that following Sunday!”
Ashton told me about Dre and Aivery’s fathers, but I didn’t know about the others. There was just one person I truly cared to know about.
“What about Ashton? What did he do for Thanksgiving?” I chuckled, collecting the papers from around me.
“Probably testing burger sauce or some weird shit,” she groaned, and I felt the roll of the eye in her tone, even though my attention was below.
My head tossed back as I hollered. “What?”
Samantha shrugged as half her face lifted in a grin. “I don’t know what he did, but I do know the bastard doesn’t have to work a day in his life.” She reached down to pull on her shoes.
“What do you mean?” Nothing was funny anymore.
Her head lifted. “B-Way Burger.”
“What about it?”
“Ashton’s father was one of the founding owners.”
“Was?” Holy shi— “He’s dead?”
That explained why his father didn’t spend Thanksgiving with Ms. Wanda. Ashton looked like the type of dude that came from a two-parent home. It fit him.
“Yeah.” Her face tightened as she struggled getting one shoe on. “Ashton’s one of the owners now.”
A chill ran down my spine as I pulled in air. My eyes shot over to the flowers, the Giuseppe boxes, Jimmy Choo boxes, the Tiffany and Nike boxes. Then they brushed over the closet that couldn’t close because of being stocked.
“Oh, no.” Samantha’s sudden movement caught my attention. “Your secret admirer may have money, but Ashton has bank. He could send you that shit every day and his account wouldn’t feel it.” My heart slammed in my damn chest.
No. Not Ashton. I’d been spending too much time with him. Had even shared a piece of my life most didn’t know about. But he never mentioned his business. His money. How he was able to buy his mother a brand new Benz.
There was a knock on the door. Samantha grabbed her jacket and book bag on the way to answer it.
“Shit!” she mumbled. When she moved aside, Ashton’s tall frame came into view from where I sat on the bed. He stepped in with a hoodie draped over his head, a file folder tucked under his arm, his hands inside the pouch of his sweatshirt, and shower shoes. “You’re like magic, I see.” She looked my way. “See ya in the morning, basically.”
I gave her a sad smile. “Yeah. Because I’ll be knocked out by the time you get in.”
“Either that, or have snuck out again with your ghost of a secret lover.” She left and closed the door behind her, missing the dry chuckle I gave.
My eyes went straight to Ashton. He walked over to my desk and tossed the file.
“What’s this?” I asked as he opened it.
“The outline for your upcoming writing paper and your next Chem exam.” His voice was deep. Empty.
I blinked hard. He had those? “But I haven’t decided on a topic for the paper.”
“I did, for you.” His attention was on the roses. “You can easily write around my bullet points. Get it back over to me for editing and you’ll be good.”