Page 101 of On One Condition

When I found out we were going to the annual Alzheimer’s fundraiser that he and his brothers host, I was curious how he’d act around them. Would I be a friend he brought along, or would I be treated as his date?

The kiss he presses to the side of my temple and the words “I’m glad you chose me,” murmured in my ear, definitely say the latter.

We talk for a bit about nothing of importance. It feels like déjà vu most of the time as memories come back fast and furious.

“The dinner is about to start,” Ford says. “Shall we head to the table?”

And the dinner is lavish. Filet mignon and truffle oil potatoes. A choice of various desserts. Expensive wine flowing like water.

Just like the Sharpe brothers are hoping donations will be—flowing heavily into the charity.

When Ledger, Ford, and Callahan’s speeches are finished, and they’ve been accosted by people wanting to be seen by them, I make my way back out to the patio and the view of the skyline I love. I told Ledger to take his time doing what he needs to do as I truly don’t mind the fresh air or the time to simply sit and admire its beauty.

I’m just about to reach the doorway when I get stuck behind a group of five or so women all talking furiously about some guy named Theodore and how one of them saw him with someone who wasn’t his wife the other day.

“Excuse me. May I get by please?” I ask when there is a break in their conversation.

“Oh. We’re sorry,” the one in the silver dress says before narrowing her eyes at me. “I don’t believe we’ve seen you before.”

“What family do you belong to?” the one in the gaudy black dress asks, who looks like she uses a Sharpie for eyeliner. Clearly money can’t count for taste.

“Family?”

“Yes, dear,” green dress says. “Who are you? A Rothschild? A Montgomery? A Vanderbilt? Who?”

“A Wells,” I say with a smug smile to match the ones they are giving me. “We’re not from these parts.”

“Oh,” black dress says as she blinks her way through her tangled lash extensions. “Then who are you here with?”

“Ledger Sharpe.”

“Sure, you are,” gold dress says with an eye roll to her friends. “I’m sorry, but personal assistants are all hanging in the adjacent room. I’m sure you’d be more comfortable chatting with like-kind and commiserating about how miserable we all are to work for. Besides, I hear the food in there is great too.”

For a brief moment, I’m brought back to the farmhouse. To Pop standing toe-to-toe with Maxton Sharpe. To the harsh words that fueled my inadequacies for way too long.

“I’m sure the food is good in there. Leave it to the Sharpes to treat everyone with kindness.” My smile is smug. “And for the record, I’m actually Ledger’s date, but I’ll make sure to tell his PA when I see her.” I smile, having no clue if he even has a PA here in New York.

“Oh. I wasn’t aware,” green dress says. “So you’re with him for the money then? Take it from us, it isn’t exactly the easiest life fawning all over your husband most days to stroke his ego.”

“Not the money, no. I own my own business and can support myself just fine.” I stand a little taller. “And in case you didn’t notice, the Sharpe men don’t need anyone to fawn all over them. It just happens naturally to everyone around them. Besides, fawning is beneath you.” I glance over my shoulder to see that Ledger is still otherwise engaged. I’m glad you chose me. “Enjoy the rest of your night. We truly appreciate your donations tonight.”

With that, I walk away with my head held high and a smile on my lips.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Ledger

Tonight has brought on a mix of emotions for me.

It’s the first time I’ve been home since facing the reality of what my father did—the lies and deception that kept Asher and me apart. It was easier to push it to the back of my mind when I was away, but now being here—at something we do in his honor—has made it harder to ignore.

There’s hurt. There’s betrayal. And there’s a burning need to share it with my brothers, but an even greater desire not to taint their view of the man he was since we, as humans, tend to canonize the ones we love after their death.

And to have to go up there and speak about him tonight without highlighting any of his flaws felt rather hypocritical.

Especially with Asher sitting there staring at me.

Is that why I asked her here tonight? Because I knew it was going to be tough for me? But then again, what kind of an asshole does that make me? Jesus Christ. Why didn’t I think of this before? I invited her to celebrate the honor of the man who said horrible things to her.