“What has you smiling?” Thad asked.
“Instagram.” She took only a second to glance up at him before returning to her phone. “Kara or Dom added still shots of our interview and people are losing their minds over how cute Duchess and Puddin’ were this morning.” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “Unfortunately, those rumors seem to be spreading.” She looked up at him again. “Everyone thinks we’re a couple.”
Thad hunched his shoulders. “I usually don’t care what everyone thinks, but in this instance…”
Ashanti sent him what she probably thought was a mean glare. All Thad could think about was how cute she looked when her freckles deepened with her blush.
“I’m pretty sure you’re going to approve of this last backdrop,” the photographer said. She hooked the grommets through two hooks then let the backdrop unfurl with a flourish. It was a portrait of Buckingham Palace.
“Ah!” Ashanti squealed. “I love it!”
“Aaaaand,” the photographer said, drawing the word out as she darted to the boxes of props. She pulled out a tiara and crown. “Accessories worthy of a duchess and her duke.”
They were nearing the two-and-a-half-hour mark of whatwas supposed to be a two-hour photo shoot, but Thad knew better than to say anything. Other than that stupid bow tie that had tried to choke him, the afternoon had not been all that painful.
But he was still relieved when, ten minutes later, the photographer wrapped up the photo shoot. They left shortly after.
“We are totally having picture day at Barkingham Palace,” Ashanti said. “I’m ordering one of those backdrops as soon as we’re back home.”
“I could have predicted that the moment that backdrop fluttered to the floor. Your eyes lit up.”
“It’s so adorable! This is also a genius fundraising tool. I’ll probably buy three dozen of those calendars for holiday gifts.”
They spent the next hour playing tourists, snapping pictures in front of Penn Station, the Garden, Macy’s and, of course, the Empire State Building. Thad found out the Flatiron Building was on her list of must-sees, so they headed south.
They ended up at Madison Square Park. Puddin’ and Duchess were both recognized, of course, and after taking pictures with fellow dogs, Thad unclipped both their leashes and let them run free in the smaller, enclosed dog park.
“What an afternoon,” Ashanti said as she plopped down on a bench. “I needed this.”
“I could tell,” Thad said without thinking.
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
Shit. If he’d just messed up the lighthearted mood of their afternoon, he would assign fifty push-ups to his damn self.
“I wasn’t going to say anything, but earlier, when we were still at the Luke and Leah show, you seemed upset,” Thad said. “You always have such a positive vibe about you. Even whenyou were chewing me out for buying the Bywater house out from under you, it was the politest chewing out I’ve ever seen.”
She laughed. “And here I thought I was being too mean to you,” she said.
“My sister has given me more attitude when wishing me a happy birthday, Ashanti. You are seriously the most upbeat person I’ve ever met. Seeing you upset earlier threw me a little. You said all was okay with your sisters, but…” He shrugged. “It still threw me.”
“Everything is okay,” she said. Then added, “For the most part.”
“And the other part?” he asked.
This time her laugh held very little humor. “You know that saying ‘smile to keep from crying’?”
He didn’t like the sound of that. Thad settled his elbows on his thighs and looked over at her. “You want to talk about it?”
She sent him a wan smile. “Thanks, but you didn’t come to New York to be my therapist, Thad. I’m not unloading all of my shi—crap on you.”
“First, it’s okay to say the wordshitaround me. I promise I won’t judge you, because I will likely say much worse without even realizing it. Second, I would never suggest that I’m capable of being anyone’s therapist. I’ve been seen by enough therapists to know that I could never do the work they do.
“Yes,” Thad said at the sight of her arched brows. “I have no problem admitting that I’ve been to therapy. Some mandated by the US Army and a couple of times just on my own. I’ve got shit I’ve had to work out. I could probably do with a few more sessions. My point is that I’m not trying to be your therapist. Just a friend,” he said.
“And as your friend, I want you to feel comfortable enough to share what’s bothering you. I’m pretty good at listening to people get things off their chests. It was a requirement of my job for a long time.”
“That sounds like a therapist.”
