*Ophelia*Asher’s parents take us all to dinner to celebrate the win of another game. It’s significantly more fun than any of the time I spent in L.A., and I think their son telling his girlfriend he’s in love with her put everyone in a much better mood after Courtney. We go to an upscale Italian place, but we are not properly dressed. Usually, this would make me nervous because I feel as though I’d stick out. But in truth, I don’t notice if people watch over us. I’m bursting with love and happiness for my person; being with his family is like a dream come true.Frank orders a bottle of champagne for the four of us, holding his glass up once we’ve all been given ours. “To my family and Asher's big win.”We clink glasses, taking sips together. I watch Asher’s face, wondering if he picked up on his father’s words and their meaning. I don’t think he was referring to football, at least.We order pizza and pasta, and the restaurant's vibe is inviting. The Slaters know the owner well,
*Ophelia*“Please, tell me what happened, and don’t leave anything out.”Maria connected us with a friend who specializes in contract law. She just so happens to have a location in Los Angeles, so a few days after his game, we fly out to meet with her. Asher and I sit in her office now, staring across her desk as she asks me to recount everything that’s happened with Alvin Peters since the moment I met him at the restaurant in Nashville.Emily Faith, the lawyer, has her hair wrapped in a bun on top of her head. She could be mistaken for my mother; the color is identical. She wears a grey pantsuit with a pink-collar shirt and has a steaming cup of hot coffee on her desk. She’d offered some to the two of us, but I’ve been too jittery this morning to accept anything. Instead, we were brought two cups of water. I hold mine tight in my grasp as I force myself to breathe. Emily’s hands are folded on the table, and she looks from Asher to me. I do as she asks.“I felt…funny after taki
*Ophelia*I can feel Asher’s body tense, his muscles becoming predominant at the initial glance of the stocky man. As usual, his suit is too tight around his body, and as an added bonus, he’s sweating his ass off, wiping at his forehead with a handkerchief like it’s still the 1950s.“Well, well, well. Look who’s come crawling back.” Peters's voice comes out like a slithering snake. It fits perfectly with his conniving ways, and I cringe at the sound. What a bastard.“Alvin?” I inquire, taking a step forward.“Miss Lane. Have you come to your senses? Finally realized that I’ve been right all along?” It’s like he believes he is invincible in this setting, but I’m about to drop the bomb on him. I can’t wait to see his expression. I look up at Asher, who returns the glance. He raises a single eyebrow but doesn’t release the tension. I think he’s even clenching his jaw.I turn back to the pathetic excuse for a man. “You’re fired. You’re no longer my manager. If you want to address an
*Asher*November comes and goes, and we’re staring down the barrel of Christmas and the New Year. Celebrating Thanksgiving with Ophelia in attendance was some of the most fun I’ve had in years. Per tradition, the Slater family plays football out in the yard while the turkey cooks. It’s nothing more than a friendly, silly time where no score is kept, and no one plays by the official rules.Ophelia initially wasn’t interested. “I like to watch sports, not play them,” she’d teased. But then, Payton and Renee asked to join in, and her entire attitude changed. “Alright, fine! If your nieces are gonna play, then count me in.” It had been a few months since she met the girls, and neither remembered my girlfriend. But it soon didn’t matter because they were busy trying to run the ball down the yard.AJ even came in to pick up Renee, carrying her past everyone so that she could score. Adorably, she tried to spike the ball with both hands, but the ball just flopped to the ground.The entire
*Ophelia*“Ophelia! ‘Lose It All’ is number three on the charts this week!” My new manager, Daphne McKenna, calls through the studio, excitedly running up to me. She shows me her phone, and I pull the headphones from my head to around my neck.“Holy shit!” I squeal, jumping up and down in my seat. “This is insane!”“They love you, Ophelia!” David says, coming in with a bottle of champagne. “And we’re immensely proud of you.”The interns and other workers enter the studio, handing David a towel to open the bottle without risking the equipment.“Thank you, guys, really. David, I wouldn’t have been able to do any of this without your support. Daphne, thank you for taking on my baggage load in such a short time. I’m so happy to have you here with us. And thank you to everyone else for all your hard work and dedication. But thank you for believing in me.”The bottle goes POP! as everyone cheers, pouring alcohol into paper cups and cheering about the room.It finally feels like I’ve e
*Asher*“Oh, that’s nothing.” Ophelia declares this so nonchalantly that I hesitate a moment. My phone is blowing up with notifications that have tagged us both. But these aren’t standard messages people are sending. There are threats, violent thoughts, and desires. I don’t normally interact with my social media accounts. This, though, is much different.“No,” I slowly start. “Nothing is someone just saying they don’t like you. These messages aren’t nothing, Ophelia.”“It’s been happening for months, Asher. I’ve just turned off all my social media notifications.”I rear back like I’ve been stabbed. “MONTHS?!”She nods, shrugging like she’s just misremembered something that isn’t important. “Yeah, I just figure people hate me because I’m dragging your image down or something? I didn’t tell anyone, though. You have enough stress on your plate; I didn’t want to add this, too.”I can’t help but laugh at her wanting to protect me. Hasn’t she realized I’d do anything for her? “My love,
*Ophelia*The screaming patrons of the concert hall cause the backstage area to rumble under my feet. That, mixed with my nerves, has me quivering. All my work has brought me to this moment. But I can’t help the ache in my heart not having Asher here but know there’s no time to wallow. Tomorrow is the championship game, and the team can’t go anywhere, even if they want to.I take in a deep breath, shuddering as it exits my lungs. I shake out my hands next and start pacing back and forth.“You okay, Ophelia?” Daphne appears by my side, her phone in hand as always. She’s dressed in a t-shirt with my name printed across it and a pair of jeans, with a blazer thrown on over the ensemble.She reminds me of Carolanne, and I’ve dubbed her my older sister. She’s been so attentive, helpful, and even kind to me. I’ve cherished her advice and compassion, so I know I can share my anxieties.“I’m nervous as hell, Daph. I don’t need to be. I’ve been rehearsing for months and know nothing impedes
*Ophelia*"Miss Lane!" a voice bellows.I don’t stop to check over my shoulder at the stout man with a wiry mustache pursuing me. "Don't you dare run!" he snaps, the threat hanging heavy in the air. His companion is close behind him as they follow me through the busy bar. They are after me for my debt, and these particular collectors are a nasty breed…I finally find my way to the restroom hallway. As I glanced over my shoulder again, I pushed the door open without checking the gender on the door. Inside, a man stands at the urinal, his mind focused on the task at hand. But his concentration shatters as I burst through the door, and with a frantic gesture, I implored him to keep silent."Get out," he hisses, his voice a mixture of annoyance and disbelief.“Please,” I beg quietly. “I need help!” "No, you shouldn’t even be in here," he declares, his tone firm as he turns away from me, determined to wash his hands of the situation.Before I can respond, voices sound from out