Reckless Abandon(70)

“Are you kidding me? I saw his photo. I would have f*cked him up and down the coast and then some. Use me, please, Mr. Asher!” No sooner are the words out of Jessica’s mouth than my head pops up, my eyes dart out of my head, and my stomach drops so low I may never be able to retrieve it.

“Asher?” Crystal asks and Lisa immediately follows with a similar look of confusion.

My head slowly rotates toward the girls and I’m met with looks of exasperation. “They don’t know what they’re talking about.”

Leah raises her hand. At first, I think she’s about to vomit and I’m quickly realizing she is . . . with words. “I should have known better when I saw him going at it. It was so damn hot. I was like, damn, there’s a man who knows how to work a woman. That’s what my sister needs!” Leah says, pointing her finger out into the open air like she’s making a monumental statement.

I have no idea what she is talking about. But Leah continues her tirade. “He had a body like Abercrombie but, like, way nicer. He was Kama Sutra all over that boat.”

Her words are sloppy but I’ve heard her say them before. She told me this about someone once. My body goes rigid as I think about what Leah is saying.

Or is it what she’s not saying that has me worried?

When we were in Italy, we saw a man and a woman having sex on Asher’s boat. Leah watched them long after I went to sleep. When I thought the boat was Devon’s, I assumed he was also the man we saw having sex on the boat. Leah said it wasn’t.

“Are you saying the man you saw having sex on the yacht, the day we arrived in Italy—Leah, did you know that was Asher?” I ask, even though I should be shutting this conversation down. My words are very controlled for being a mix of nerves and hurt.

“Of course not, of course not.” Leah waves me off. “Neither of us knew who he was. We’d never heard of him.”

I sink back into my seat, relieved my sister hadn’t handed me over willingly to someone she knew was lying.

“But when I saw him in person, I knew the guy giving us a tour was the same one giving some bow-chica-wow-wow,” Leah says with a thrusting motion, then continues, with the finger pointing in the air like she’s making a declaration. “And I said to myself, ‘Self, there is a hot as hell man here who only has eyes for your sister. And she’s been so sad. She needs something to help her forget how sad she is. Even if it’s just a flirt or maybe a little something else . . . she needs to feel beautiful. And this guy . . . this guy is going to do it for her.’ But did he fix her? Noooooo. He used her. And, therefore, he will forever be known as the Asshole.” Leah falls back into her cushion.

The Ohio girls are all shaking their heads, pissed for me that I was used. It’s not until Kimberly looks at me with pity in her eyes that I nearly lose it.

“You’re telling me that instead of warning me that he could be a player, you made it so I was trapped with him?”

“Uh-huh,” Leah says, her eyes starting to slope down a bit.

“And when he asked me on a date, you didn’t think it was important to tell me about the connection? You didn’t think I might get used or, more importantly, get my heart broken?”

“Emm-hmmm” is all Leah can muster.

Now I understand why Leah was so upset when we learned who Asher really was. She wasn’t upset for me. She was upset at herself.

I don’t know if I actually believe what is happening right now. I have a right to be royally pissed, right? I’m not overreacting. Am I?

I turn to my New York girls and assess their reactions. Lisa looks like she’s in shock, and Crystal is stoic when she says, “I think it’s time we put your sister to bed.”

Crystal helps me wrangle Leah and her friends into two cabs. Since we seem to be the most sober and know our way around town, we split up. I hail a cab with Leah and Jessica. Crystal hops in another with Kimberly and Suzanne. Lisa has to get home so she says good-bye and whispers in my ear she has no desire to share any of my story with anyone. She never cared much for Alexander Asher anyway, even if he did create the school she works at.

According to Lisa, “It’s all publicity bullshit, if you ask me.”

Crystal’s cab pulls up to my apartment just behind mine and she helps me escort the girls into my small apartment. The sleeping arrangements aren’t ideal but they’re free for the girls so no one is complaining.

I half carry Leah to my room, her weight hanging from my shoulder like a thousand pounds, as she whispers words to me about how much she loves me, how she had the best bachelorette party ever, and, of course, reminding me that she’s getting “marrriieeedddd.”

With Leah snug under the covers, I turn her to the side and place a trash bin next to the bed in case she gets sick. I close the bedroom door and make sure the other girls are comfortable. Suzanne is passed out on the chesterfield, while Kimberly and Jessica are raiding my cabinet for late-night munchies. A blow-up mattress is next to the couch for them to pass out when they’ve finished loading up on empty calories.

Slowly, blowing the air out of my lungs, I assess the damage. Not to my apartment. To my reputation.

When the air is completely out of my lips, I brave a look at Crystal, who is standing by the door with her hand on the doorknob. She is waiting for my full attention before she speaks.

“Listen, I don’t want to tell you how you should feel but from meeting your sister, I know with all my heart she was only trying to help you.”