Page 64 of Fake Dating Mr. Prince
Guilt washed over me as I watched the interview with his ex. It was like I was invading his privacy even though it was out there for the world to see. I wasn’t shocked I remembered nothing of it. I’d never really been into the social scene or a frequent tabloid reader.
Watching Simone’s face as she cried to the host was despicable. I didn’t know her, and even I could sense the lies she told. Maybe it was because I’d gotten to know Dean better, but there was no way he was capable of the mental abuse she described and the physical abuse she hinted he was capable of inflicting. The whole thing was sick and twisted. I could see why he wanted to avoid her.
My phone dinged. I expected it to be Stella telling me she was running late for our lunch date. My head snapped back as Elaine’s number popped up on the screen. I sat up, still clutching at the pillow as though it could soften the blows that were sure to come.
Elaine: Call me.
I shuddered. I really didn’t want to, but knew I would pay later if I didn’t. It was absurd that she couldn’t call me herself. She needed to hold all of the cards and manipulate the situation like always.
I was fairly confident she knew stretching this out would cause my heart to beat double time and bile to inch up my throat, anticipating the reason for our call. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, I tapped out her number. It rang three times before she picked up.
“Took you long enough.” I imagined she had an eye roll to go with her statement. I wanted to reach through the phone and smack her.
My eyes grew wide, and I held back a gasp. Rarely did I let myself think those thoughts. I always feared she’d know and punish me. “How can I help you, Elaine?”
“I see you are moving forward with our plan. Excellent. Although I had expected a call from you letting me know you’d gotten this far.”
The apparent delight in Elaine’s voice grated on my nerves. When I had the money from Dean, I could tell my stepmother to kiss my ass, but I had to pacify her until then.
“What?”
Suddenly, it hit me. She had to be referring to yesterday. How did she know? Then I remembered the picture Dean posted of the two of us.
“The picture in the tabloids this morning of the two of you. Come now, Ashlyn, please tell me you did notice someone taking photographs of you.”
“Pictures of me?” What was she talking about?
The heavy sigh on the other end was one I’d heard many times before. Always directed at me. “Yes.”
Quickly I shifted off the phone screen to the internet. I searched for Dean’s name and immediately saw pictures of us at the park. The first one was of us kissing and the other of me being jumped by Juniper.
I groaned.
“I’m guessing you’ve looked at them. Yes, the one with you and the dog is quite—” She paused. “Unflattering. Really Ashlyn, try to have some respect for yourself.”
“I—the dog. What was I supposed to do, Elaine?”
She sighed again and chose to ignore my question. “How close are you to getting the designs?”
I bit my lip. I didn’t want to answer this question even though I knew I would be lying. It felt like I was betraying Dean. “Soon.”
“Get it done.” She hung up.
I was still sitting on the couch when my phone pinged again. The text alert made me jump. Turning my phone over from where it lay on my lap, I feared it would be Elaine with something new to say or a request even worse than what she had already tasked me with. Instead, it was Dean.
Dean: Hi, gorgeous. How’re you this morning?
Me: Morning? Someone had a late night.
I tossed in a wink emoji, so he knew I was teasing him.
Dean: Nah, I didn’t stay out too late. My buddies were asking about you. I mentioned we’d started dating.
Me: Oh.
Dean: I would’ve stopped by your place, but I remembered you said Stella was there.
Dean’s messages and the latest conversation with Elaine warred in my head, making me alternately feel euphoric and sick to my stomach.
