Page 77 of Phillip

The bank wire came through an hour before the auctioneer announced Phillip’s Ferrari, and she couldn’t breathe.

Ashley had empowered Mary Beth to sign her up as an anonymous bidder. She’d told her best friend how much she could spend and hid from Phillip. If he knew, he would make her stop. But if he got the car back, maybe she could make up for the hurt she’d caused in the past.

The auctioneer finished reading the description of the Ferrari 330 GT, and with great fanfare, he started the bidding with fast-flying words. “The auction’s on. What are you going to give for it? Would you give one hundred thousand?”

Bidding paddles flew up.

“I’ve got a hundred.” The auctioneer pointed toward the far corner. “Now a hundred and a quarter.” He recognized another bidder.

A man in the front row raised his paddle. “Two fifty.”

“Now,” the auctioneer chanted, “Two seventy-five.” He acknowledged another bidder. “Three and a quarter?”

The auctioneer’s words flew. The bids rose higher and higher. After four hundred thousand dollars, bidders bowed out, and Ashley was near done.

“Anyone else? Four fifty?”

“Four fifty,” the front row bidder called.

“Four seventy-five.” The auctioneer gestured to the few remaining bidders. “Four seventy-five?”

Tears flooded her eyes. When her cell phone rang, she knew it would be Mary Beth.

Ashley answered, heartbroken. “I’m done.”

“I understand,” Mary Beth said, then hung up.

A second later, the woman who must’ve been her anonymous bidder said, “No, Colonel.”

“Five hundred,” another bidder called.

“Five twenty-five,” the auctioneer chanted. “Will you give me five fifteen? Five fifteen? And…soldfor five hundred thousand dollars.”

Tears fell as an arm wrapped around Ashley’s shoulder. “Phillip!” She clung to him as he dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

“It’s okay,” he promised, defeated. “Let’s wrap up and go home.”

***

The drive to the Blackthorne estate was quiet, and Ashley wished a magic cure of explanation, apologies, and hope for the future would come together. But she didn’t know what to say.

They arrived home, and Phillip slumped in the driver’s seat. Asking what was wrong felt trivial. She couldn’t imagine his loss and disappointment. Those years he’d told her that he hated the Ferrari… He’d hated losing his parents.

Ashley struggled to understand how she would feel. Her parents were so different, but if they were gone tomorrow, she would grieve. Even for her mother.

Phillip laced his fingers with hers. “Ready to go in?”

“Yes. But I want to say something first.”

He squeezed her hand.

“I didn’t take the position in my mother’s company because… I didn’t trust myself.”

He shifted in the leather seat.

“There are things that I should have done differently, things that I should never have said. I never hated you, Phillip. It was a poor excuse that I held onto in my head.” She sighed. “You told me about the conversation with my parents, and well, I didn’t know I had the other side of the story. Either way, I don’t want to keep anything from you.”

“Secrets doom relationships,” he said. “We don’t want to end up like Uncle Graham and Aunt Claire.”

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