“Carter, your girlfriend’s a genius.” Delia snatched up the ringing phone the moment I stepped into the community center office.
“Yes, ma’am.” She spoke into the phone, nodding her head eagerly. “You can send your donation to the address listed on our website.” She paused, pointing toward the seat in front of her desk.
I took the hint and sat down.
“No, ma’am, thank you. Yes, Carter Ashford is certainly an asset to this town.” She beamed a smile at me. “I’ll be sure to tell him.” She dropped the phone back in the cradle.
“Okay, what is going on? And how do you know Harper’s my girlfriend when we haven’t made it official?” We hadn’t even had that conversation ourselves. I leaned back, stretching my legs out in front of me. It had been a long morning already, and I wasn’t in the mood for town drama.
Delia gaped at me. “Haven’t you seen the paper today?”
“Not yet. It was a crappy night.” It wasn’t enough that Harper’s dad chased me down the street, but my morning started off with an irate call from my father. He wasn’t happy I was still working at the wine bar. He’d assumed I would be sick of it by now and happy to take on a cushy executive position in the company.
He hadn’t been amused when I told him I liked being a barback and had no plans to pursue another position.
“You need to read that.” Delia threw the morning’s edition of the Weekly Wine across her desk just as the phone started ringing again.
My face was plastered across the front page with several pictures from the career day event at the center.
I snorted at the headline. “Is There A Philanthropic Ashford Hiding Among Us?” Dad was not going to like this.
I couldn’t help the grin tugging at my mouth as I sat back to read the highlights from career day. It was sweet of Harper to put us on the front page with a catchy headline.
“Oh crap.” My eyes widened at the audacity of my hopefully-someday-more-than-girlfriend. “She did not just do this.” I laughed, trying to keep it down while Delia was on the phone.
Most residents of Superiore Bay will be accustomed to The Ashford and the tight fist he holds on his millions. The same millions he holds over his own children, treating them like puppets on a string. It’s no secret that Conrad Ashford walked away a long time ago, but has another Ashford scorned the old man?
“I’m so dead.” I snort-laughed, thinking of my father’s face when he read this. I was surprised I hadn’t received a summons yet.
What about the young Ashford playboy we all know and love? (Especially this reporter.)
Did she just profess her love in the newspaper?
The one who scoots around town in his cherry red Ferrari,
“I do not scoot!” At least not anymore. My old girl was still sitting at the local garage waiting for me to admit she was totaled.
… shirking his duties in favor of fun and sun … and anything that sets the old man off. We all know Carter Ashford.
At least we think we know him. But then, this reporter has always known there was so much more to this man than he would have us believe.
We’ve seen him in his latest role as a hardworking barback and the world’s worst waiter at the Ashford Wine Bar. But how many of us have noticed the thankless work he does for the community of Superiore Bay?
The countless volunteer hours he’s logged at the local community center is shocking to this reporter. (I did the math. It’s over ten thousand hours!) In the last seven years, Carter Ashford has quietly been there for the children of this community, day in and day out. And they adore him!
I could feel my face flushing with embarrassment … and pride. I never wanted or needed such recognition, but Harper had laid it all out there for the whole town to see.
The phone rang again, and Delia grabbed it, her eyes alight with happiness. I returned to the article to see what more drama Harper had stirred up. She went on to report on the conditions of the community center and how much we were lacking. How we had the volunteers to do the work, but our funds were so minimal we couldn’t do half of what we’d like.
It was all true, but her article had painted me as the savior of the Superiore Bay Community Center. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I was a volunteer like all the others. I just had more spare time on my hands because I was the rich kid with no direction.
“You don’t look happy.” Delia set the phone down. “Harper is an angel for doing this for us.”
“Doing what?” I set the paper back on her desk.
“Haven’t you heard how much this phone is ringing?”
“Sure.” I shrugged.
“Donations, Carter.” She leaned forward. “They’re flooding in by the hundreds. The people of this town want to help us do more. They want to give us full funding.”
“Seriously?”
“Harper set up a Go Fund Me link on the Weekly Wine’s website. It’s lighting up like the Fourth of July, and people are calling wanting to mail their donations into the center directly. She’s a genius. If you don’t marry her, I will.”
“That’s wonderful.” I was delighted for the kids who would benefit from all this attention, but I still wasn’t sure how I felt about my role in Harper’s article. It was supposed to be about the kids, but she’d made it about me.
The phone rang again, and I left Delia to her busy afternoon. Part of me wanted to go straight over to Harper’s house and ask her about the article, but the cowardly part of me didn’t want to deal with her parents again. She had a lot going on with them in town, and I didn’t want to add to her worries.
Predictably, my phone rang just as I was about to sign in for the after-school program. We never had enough volunteers for the early hours, so I usually made an effort to be here while the other volunteers were at their day jobs. That was why I liked the evening shifts at the wine bar, it left me free to be here for the kids when they arrived right after school.
“Hey, Dad, I thought I might hear from you,” I answered with my most chipper voice.
“Come to the office. Now.” The old man barked into my ear and then hung up without waiting for my reply. If only I could ignore the summons, but I knew from past experience it was best if I comply and act like it didn’t bother me in the slightest.
“Gotta run,” I called to Delia. “No surprise, Dad wants to see me at the office. I’ll be back soon.”
I headed out of the building situated near the Boulevard in an older part of town where my temporary car was parked. The drive to the office was a quick jaunt across town, and I was waiting patiently in the small room outside my father’s office suite with his ancient secretary punching out something on an actual typewriter. I didn’t even know they made those anymore.
“Send him in, Birdy,” my father’s voice echoed over the intercom, cracking with age. Dad didn’t like to upgrade to new technology when the old stuff still worked just fine.
“He will see you now, dearie.” Birdy kept pecking away on her machine, pausing only long enough to push her glasses up on the bridge of her nose. “Good luck,” she called after me in a sing-song voice as I opened the heavy oak double doors to the old man’s office.
“Hey, Dad, what’s up?” I flopped onto the sleek leather couch that had been there since I was a kid. It still looked brand new. My brother already sat there. Dressed impeccably in a three-piece suit, Conner looked the part of the Ashford heir.
“Don’t give me your clueless crap, son. You know very well why I called you here.” He lifted a copy of the Weekly Wine to prove his point. “What sort of nonsense has your girlfriend cooked up?”
I was already eager to leave. Of course my father’s first thought when reading Harper’s article was that it couldn’t possibly be true.
“It’s not nonsense, Dad.” I shook my head. “But you’re going to believe whatever you want, so I don’t even know why I’m here.” I glanced at Conner for support I knew I would never get. Conner wasn’t the type to stand up to Dad.
“I had her information corroborated. You’ve amassed a shocking number of volunteer hours at that center.” He leaned over his desk, peering at me under his bushy eyebrows. “What I want to know is why you can put so much effort and devotion into this drivel and not into a real job?”
“I have a real job, Dad. I work for the family, remember? What I do outside of work shouldn’t matter.”
“We’re done with this game, son. It’s time you step up and take your place alongside your brother.”
“Oh, so that’s why you’re here.” I eyed Conner as if he’d betrayed me. “It’s a tag team job this time, huh?” That was fine. I was ready for it.
“Dad, I think we should let Carter explain himself. Clearly this volunteer work is important to him. Let’s hear him out.”
“Lena’s been a good influence on you.” I grinned at my brother, who had never once played devil’s advocate between our father and me. “But I can handle this.” I turned back to my father. “I won’t quit the center. They need me.”
Dad gave a derisive snort at that. “They need anyone with a pulse. It’s not appropriate work for an Ashford. We will give a donation.”
“But a donation of our time is somehow beneath us, is that right, Dad?”
“Don’t put words in my mouth. You need to get this reporter under control. How dare she speak of us in that way after all we’ve done for this town?”
I couldn’t stop my laughter, even though I knew that was the best way to make him even angrier. “I’d like to see anyone try to control Harper.” I leaned forward. “I need you to listen to me, Dad. And listen well. I’ve done a lot of thinking about my life and my future. Working with you or Conner in any kind of active role is never going to happen.”
I stood to leave, not giving the old man a chance to yell and bluster. “Like it or not, I will continue working with the community center. I’m passionate about it, and I happen to be pretty good at what I do. Keep my trust fund tied up if you must. I can learn to live without it. I’m done letting you manipulate me with money. I like where my life is headed. I like working at the bar and spending my days at the center. I’m going to marry Harper Chapman one day, and you better get used to the idea.”