Sometimes money could buy the very best things.
Ash didn’t wake up until Clyde pulled up to his apartment complex. He drew in a deep breath and grabbed his stuff, then made his way to his penthouse apartment. He was ready to fall onto his face and sleep the rest of the weekend away. Maybe when he woke again he’d book a trip to Italy. Or Australia. Or Hawaii. The surf was always good in the summertime in Hawaii.
But when he opened the door to his place, his worst nightmare came to life.
“Hello, son.”
Standing there, looking him in his eyes, was his mirror image. What Ash would look like when he was sixty-four years old. The hazel eyes. The faded freckles across his nose. The lean figure cut in an expensive suit that didn’t have a wrinkle in sight. The only thing that had changed—besides the crow’s feet—was his hair. Instead of it being the rich mahogany Ash had inherited, it was silver. Like a fox.
“What are you doing here?” Ash asked.
“We need to talk.”
“Yeah, well. I’m not really in the mood to talk, Martin.”
“I’ve been watching the papers.”
“Join the club,” Ash said.
“I’ve also seen the interview.”
“You and the rest of the nation,” he said.
“You really are dragging the Worthington name for a ride, son.”
“‘Son.’ You know that was the only time you ever called me ‘son’ growing up. When I was in trouble,” Ash said. “Are you here to tell me to stay away from women? To keep away from gold diggers? Because if you don’t mind, that’s what I’ve been trying to do my entire fucking life.”
“Actually, I’m here to tell you that this woman Mr. Rathbone is dragging through the mud is no different than any other woman you will encounter.”
Ash’s eyes panned up to his father as he slammed the door behind him.
“She’s what?” he asked.
“All women want money in exchange for services. If you think about it, the entire world works that way. Money in exchange for services. Goods. Luxury items. Homes. What do you think bills are, Ash?”
“You’re telling me all women are gold diggers and I should embrace that?”
“You have money, son. And your money buys the best of anything you could ever want. Women, included. Understand this now and know that love is nothing but a fairy tale. Take me for instance. I chased it for years and divorced twice before I understood that concept.”
“You cheated on Mom,” Ash said. “That isn’t love.”
“I thought I had found love. Ashly, I was chasing a fairy tale. The reason why it works with your stepmother and I—”
“That woman is not my stepmother. She’s younger than I am. She’s your playtoy,” he said.
“Exactly. And she knows her role. She gets my money, and I get her care. Her compassion. Her body. She gets to upkeep herself, and I get her company. She gets my money, and I get her unwavering support no matter what. That’s how this works with men like us, Ash. Money in exchange for services.”
“Are you serious right now?” Ash asked.
“All I’m saying, son, is that you need to get ahead of this. If you like this girl, then set up the relationship on your own terms. Use her while she uses you. If two people can provide mutual needs, then both of you will rise to the top.”
“Get out.”
“I’m saving you from a world of heartache.”
“Get out, Martin.”
“Ashly—”