Page 15 of Phillip

“Okay, okay. Here.” Mary Beth poured a glass of hard lemonade and handed it to Ashley. “I can’t stand that deer-in-the-headlights look you have when you’re worried what your mother will say.”

She took the offered glass. “Youdohave a heart.”

Her friend grinned. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” Ashley took a long, approving sip.

“But my generous offer comes with strings,” Mary Beth added.

“No—”

“You fill me in on every detail you’ve left out about Phillip Blackthorne.”

She took another sip. “There’s nothing to share.”

Mary Beth scoffed, picking up her cell phone. A moment later, she handed Ashley the device.

Ashley’s hand covered her mouth as her stomach fluttered. After taking a deep breath, she read the caption out loud. “That feeling when Cupid strikes.” A second-long GIF cycled endlessly, replaying her split-second reaction when she first saw Phillip.

“Those are hearts in your eyes,” Mary Beth coolly added and sipped her drink.

“Oh God.”

“It gets better. Scroll down.”

She didn’t want to but couldn’t help herself. Someone had stitched together clips of their faces, labeling each, “Shock. Anger. Happy. Horny.” She blushed at that last word. “Mary Beth… this is so bad.”

“Honey, it’s so true. Scroll a bit more. There’s one where he’s just looking at you.”

“I don’t want to see that!” But she scrolled anyway because that was a lie. Her heart thumped. The video zoomed in and out as he watched her with the reporter. She didn’t need the captions to explain his possessive look. The brief clip made her stomach drop. “That’s…”

Mary Beth fanned herself. “That’s what the Laumet ladies would callsmitten.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

The cell phone rang shrilly from Ashley’s purse and pulled her from the GIF of Phillip’s eyes narrowing on her as he licked his bottom lip.

“Don’t answer it,” Mary Beth squeaked. “It could be her.”

“You know that’s not her ring.” Long ago, Ashley had changed her mother’s ringtone to a song fit for a horror movie.

“Yes, I know, but she’s not stupid. She’ll eventually call from an unknown number.”

“Maybe it’s Bitsy.”

“Oh, joy,” Mary Beth snickered. “She’s not much better.”

Ashley grabbed her purse and searched for her phone. “Bitsy could’ve been much worse today.”

Mary Beth shrugged. “I suppose. You gave her free PR.”

The call ended just as Ashley pulled her phone free. The screen displayed a missed call with a 202 area code. She held it up. “Not unknown.”

“That’s a Washington, DC number,” Mary Beth added quickly.

Mary Beth would know, having been tempted to move to DC and take a job at an important accounting firm. Her decision, which wasn’t fully made, was a roller coaster until Mary Beth decided to simply put the question of moving from King Harbor on hold.

“I don’t know anyone from DC.”

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