Page 118 of Fake Dating Mr. Prince
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Dean
Over the last week, I’d wanted to jump out of my skin. I knew Ashlyn was expecting Damien to show up at Inspired today, not me.
I’d planned to approach Ashlyn at her booth with Damien last week at the convention center, but when I saw her I decided not to go through with it. She was in her element. I saw the smile on her face as she showed a customer her items and chatted with other businesses nearby. I was afraid seeing me would ruin her day, and I didn’t want that.
Stella was right. Ashlyn deserved a grand gesture on my part. One that showed her without a doubt how much I loved and supported her. Yet I realized after the wheels had been set in motion, offering her a business deal to expand her business line into our Paris company now was maybe not my best idea.
With all the work she had done, she deserved to have her items showcased and sold there. But to wrap my declaration of love into it and expect Ashlyn to jump into my arms, well, that was where I struggled. I didn’t want her to think that my business deal was contingent on her acceptance of me and my love.
I wanted to make this a special day for her, and I’d fucked it up by making it about me.
Now I sat in my car outside her shop. Sweat trickled down my back as I gathered the courage to face her. My heart twisted like an unfastened sail in a windstorm, knowing today might be the last time I saw or spoke to her.
Sweaty and shaking, I wiped my hands down the front of my black dress pants. Chugging the last few drops of my water, frustration grew when it didn’t quench the dryness in my throat.
My life had lost a little of its color. Each day without Ashlyn made me see how empty it was. In such a short time, she became a vital part of my day. I missed that. More importantly, I missed her.
Already uncharacteristically five minutes late, I grabbed the envelope with the papers and shoved my car door open. It was time. I couldn’t put it off any longer. I knew Ashlyn’s nerves would be getting the better of her.
Standing in front of the store entrance, I drew in a deep breath. On the exhale, I wrapped my hand around the door handle and pushed. The sound of the old-fashioned bell, attached to the top of the door, rang in my ears as I took my first step inside.
The interior was all Ashlyn; cozy chic with creams and hints of blue and gold. I pictured her staring at color swatches for hours before finally deciding on a color scheme. While she and Stella pored over various websites to choose just the right furniture from the coastal blue settee in the corner to the cute coffee bar set off to the side past the check-out desk.
I was so damn proud of her.
Stella saw me first. She’d been puttering around the shop, fixing items I’m sure didn’t need fixing just to stay busy. And who I assumed was Burda popped up from behind the check-out desk with a small box in hand. Her lips pursed together at the sight of me, giving me no doubt she knew who I was.
“Oh boy.” Stella rushed to my side, looking at me with dismay. “Isthisyour grand gesture?”
I shook my head. As I tried to explain to her that it wasn’t, Ashlyn came walking out of the back.
“Damien, hi. I’m so happy to see you—” She stopped short. Her smile of welcome slipped away as she gazed at me in shock. “What the hell, Dean?”
I fought the urge to rush to her. To beg her to take me back.
