Charming: A Modern Day Sexy Cinderella Story (21 page)

I tuck my hair behind my ear in a nervous gesture and look into his eyes, “I didn’t love Jeremy. Not in the way a woman should love a man she’s about to marry. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I realized my unhappiness and knew I was simply going through the motions long before I finally ended things. I regret that when I finally realized what I was doing that it happened to coincide with his betrayal, but it is what it is.”

“What made you realize the truth?”

“You mean, besides the fact that on my wedding day, the day that’s supposed to be the happiest day of a woman’s life, I was anything but? There was also the fact that I drug my feet every step of the way, and barely had a hand in planning my own wedding. I was less than engaged in the entire process. And when I reflected on what my parents had, and what I wanted, there was a great disparity. Or, how about the fact that I had already decided to walk out before the ceremony began?” Asher’s eyes widen and I nod my head. “I had just decided to get the hell out when my stepsister walked in and dropped the bomb in my lap. But that only reinforced the rightness of my decision. Before she uttered a word, I had already realized that I didn’t love Jeremy at all and couldn’t go through with a loveless marriage. I didn’t want a life with him or even a friendship. I just wanted the connection that he had to my father.” Tears fill my eyes and I don’t try to stop them this time. “I loved my father so much, Asher. And he would be so ashamed of me.”

“What do you mean? Because of us? Because you married me?”

“No, not at all,” I smile at him, “he would like you a lot actually. And I know you would have liked him too. Although, he would give me hell for our wedding he would say, ‘Are you loving life, Ella? Because as long as you’re happy I’m happy to let you figure out your journey, whatever that entails.’”

“He sounds amazing.”

“He was. But, I think he would be ashamed of me because the marriage that he had with my mother was beautiful. It was full of light and love and respect and passion. The way he looked at my mother, and she looked at him… that’s burned into my memory. It doesn’t matter how young I was during that time, I remember. I couldn’t forget it if I tried. He would be ashamed that I thought for one second that Jeremy was good enough for me. I can guarantee he wouldn’t have chalked that up to my life’s journey because anyone could see that we were so wrong for each other.”

He hands me a napkin and I wipe the tears that I didn’t even realize had fallen down my cheeks. “So please, do not make one more decision or question anything between us because of what happened with Jeremy. He has no place here. I’ve been happier with you over two days than I’ve been with Jeremy… well since I can remember. Yes, I felt betrayed. Yes, I was hurt. But it was more about letting go of that tie to my dad, and making him proud of me, than anything else.”

Asher stands from his chair and comes to sit next to me instead of across from me. Taking my face in his hands in an act that’s become familiar, he places a gentle kiss on my lips. “I just didn’t want to hurt you too.”

Looking into his eyes for a moment, I smile then lean forward and press my mouth to his again. He opens for me and I sweep my tongue into his mouth, eager to show him without words just how fine I am and to erase any doubt from his mind. When I pull away, he has a soft smile on his lips and nods his head before he returns to his chair once more.

Our food was delivered while I was talking and Asher gave them a nod of thanks but I had never stopped talking or acknowledged it. Now I feel ravenous and dig into the food I’ve ordered. “Tell me more about your dad,” Asher says.

“What do you want to know?”

“Tell me something that not many people know about him. Something that makes you happy.”

Immediately I grin, “I know just what to tell you.” I laugh as many memories flow through my mind, but one stands out from the rest.

“Well don’t keep me waiting.”

“My dad knew how to play the harmonica. He always had his, a silver one, tucked into his blazer pocket or the front pocket of his shirt. No one knew. It’s not something he would play in public and he never put on a show, but he would play for my mom and me. I remember dancing around the kitchen as he played; he would stomp his foot in time to the music and my dancing. My mom would laugh at his enthusiasm and sometimes when I close my eyes, I swear I can still hear her.”

“Did he still play it even after she passed away?”

“Yes, but not as much. I mean, as I grew up I quit dancing when he played, but he would still pull it out when he was trying to cheer me up, or sometimes he would simply hold it in his hand rubbing his thumb over it as if doing so brought back the same memories of my mother for him as they do for me. Late at night sometimes, as I would fall asleep in my room, he would play in his office and the music would drift down the hallway. I have his harmonica. It’s one of my most valued treasures.”

“Thank you for sharing with me.”

“Thank you for asking.”

Asher opens his mouth to say something else but before he can an individual sitting down at our table interrupts us. “Excuse me, but aren’t you Asher Charming?”

Surprise clear on Asher’s face, he takes in the woman seated to his right smiling cheerfully at him. She’s scantily clad – wearing a bikini so small her double d’s are barely contained. She’s wearing a cover up over the top, but given the fact it’s white and sheer, she may as well not have bothered. She must be cold, because I’m pretty sure her nipples could cut through steak and while she’s practically devouring my husband, yes that’s right, my husband, with her eyes, she’s twirling her hair. Her eyes are hungry and the look on her face clearly says, “fuck me.” I don’t like it. Not one bit. My eyes move back to Asher’s face and bless him his aren’t looking anywhere but at her face. It lowers my hackles a little. But only a little.

“Yes, I’m Asher.”

“Oh my god, I knew it. I’m such a big fan.”

My mouth falls open in shock when she leans closer to Asher and presses her boobs against the side of his arm. Annoyance and possessiveness flash through my body making it heat up in a sick wave that makes me almost rise from my chair. A quick day dream of me grabbing her by the hair and flinging her away from Asher like she’s as light as a feather and where I’m apparently wonder woman flashes through my mind and makes me grin. Asher looks shocked and is barely disguising the grimace on his face. “Um thank you. I appreciate your saying hello. I hope you enjoy your day,” he says to her kindly but clearly in a dismissive tone. However, it’s clear she doesn’t get the point. At all.

“Oh my god, what are the chances that I would run into you in Cabo San Lucas? Why are you here? Are you filming a movie? I totally saw in the tabloids that you got married. Is this her?” She jerks a thumb in my direction, but her eyes don’t leave his face. And if I’m not mistaken her tone became a bit irritated when she asked that particular question.

“I’m sorry…”

“Tabatha.”

“Tabatha,” Asher says, “But I’m having breakfast with my wife.” And there go the chills at that description. “We’re in the middle of an important conversation so I’m not really able to answer all of your questions right now. Thanks again though for stopping by.”

“Can I get a picture with you first?” And I’m convinced it’s going to take brutal force to get her the hell away from my man.
Wait, my man? Where did that come from?
Anyway, she’s not leaving.

“Um-” Asher hesitates and looks at me then back at her. Looking at Tabatha I see that she’s sticking her lower lip out in a pout silently pleading with him to give in. “Okay, sure.”

She cheers when he agrees and jumps up and down in her seat making things… jiggle… god help me. Looking away from her so that it keeps me from attacking, I see a couple girls by the door watching every move their friend makes with avid eyes. I suppose I should be thankful that they didn’t all mob our table.

With regret and apology in his eyes, Asher pulls his hand from mine and I give him a smile, knowing this just goes with the territory of what he does for a living.

Tabatha holds up her phone and puts her face close to Asher’s. Without warning, Tabatha turns her face and tries to plant her lips right on his. Somehow he manages to see her coming and turns his face so she misses his lips, but they still land near the corner of his mouth. Asher jerks away, and this time, I do partially lift from my seat, because she crossed a line, but she yells thanks over her shoulder and jets out of the restaurant as fast as she can. My eyes follow her as she jogs away with her friends and they are all giggling and looking at her phone. When I look back at Asher, I see he’s dragging a napkin over his face trying his best to get the bright pink lipstick off but it’s just smearing even more.

Dipping my napkin into my water glass, I move to his side of the table, place my hand on the side of his face and gently nudge it to look at me. “Ugh, I’m sorry,” he says.

“Why are you apologizing?” I ask him as I dab my napkin on his face and try to remove the lipstick he hasn’t already removed himself.

“Because, she kissed me, right in front of you.”

“Does that happen a lot?”

He lifts his shirt up at his stomach and uses the inside of it to scrub at his mouth. “Some people are definitely more aggressive than others, but for the most part people are respectful. They just want a chance to say hi, shake my hand, exchange a few words and take a photo. There’s always someone that pushes too far though, like our new, uh, friend Tabatha.”

“You’ve been kissed more than once then, huh?”

“Kissed. Groped. Pinched. I’ve gotten gifts of lingerie sent to my hotel room, and have also received phone numbers and room keys. I’ve even had bras and underwear thrown at me before so I guess the answer to that question would be yeah, definitely.”

Instantly I feel bad for him, “That must suck… I mean… I’m assuming that must suck?”

He smiles, “Yes, it does. I’m not a fan of people that cross the line. That’s why I’ve been enjoying my time here so much. I mean, being an actor is my job and it wouldn’t be an easy thing to give up. I love it. And in some ways the fans and their quirks and actions come with the territory in great part, but I don’t care for being violated like that. I don’t care how famous someone is, or isn’t, no one no matter what deserves that kind of behavior. I’m sorry it had to happen when we were together.”

“Please stop apologizing. It’s not your fault.”

“No, but that doesn’t mean it’s something that’s easy to see or be around.”

“I’m not the kind of person that would let someone else change my mind about another. Certainly not someone that doesn’t know anything more about you other than your name, movies, and maybe a few random facts they read in a magazine. Shame on her for doing that. Now, let’s talk about something else.”

With a smile, we do just that. We talk about his family some more and some of his favorite childhood memories. We talk about some of the things he did with his friends in Cabo before we met up and we talk about some of his movies.

“So you’re telling me you don’t actually do any of the car chasing stunts in your movies? Oh my god, I just don’t think I can be with you now.”

He laughs and chases me down the street.

Asher takes me to a structure that looks like a small outhouse. He gives his name to the man working inside and the man points toward a boat. With a smile, he takes my hand once more and nods and thanks him. “Come on,” he says to me. “Look for boat number thirty-five.”

When we find it, Asher smiles and says hello to the men on the boat and hands them a piece of paper. They take a look at it and help us climb on board. As soon as we are seated comfortably, and offered life jackets, which we do not put on, but place at our sides, the men start moving around the boat. I’ve not been on a boat before so am unsure what they’re doing exactly, but a couple of them unwrap ropes around an anchor secured to the dock and curl them up on board the boat. Another man starts the boat and before long, we’re taking off moving rapidly away from the shore.

The wind is in my hair and the scent of salt water in my nose. The sun is warming our skin and I look at Asher with a big smile. I think I could get used to doing these firsts with him. “We’re going for a ride?” I ask him.

“Yes, but they’re taking us to a spot where we can go snorkeling. I rented the boat for a private snorkel session, just the two of us. Well and them,” he gestures with his head toward the guys manning the boat.

Grabbing sunscreen out of his bag he tells me to remove my cover up so he can protect me from the sun’s harmful rays, to which I giggle a little and then I do the same for him. Once thoroughly protected, we sit back and enjoy the ride to our snorkeling destination. Putting his arm around me, he holds me tightly as I snuggle up to his side, content to enjoy this with him.

Once we reach an alcove where we are promised the best snorkeling in Cabo, we suit up in our snorkeling gear. Life vests, fins, mask and snorkel in place, we’re shown where to go in order to see the most fish and are given safety instructions on what to do should we feel unsafe or see a shark. Nervous flutters occur at the mention of a shark, but I calm when we’re told that seeing one would be rare, they aren’t generally around this area.

When we carefully move to the side of the boat to jump, I look down into the water before looking back at Asher. I smile around the snorkel already in my mouth at how silly he looks in his snorkel gear. And then realize I likely look just as silly. He reaches out to grab my hand and removes his snorkel from his mouth, “Together?”