Page 88 of Scandal
“My point is that this couldn’t wait.”
I very much doubt that, and from the look on Asher’s face, I think he does too. “What couldn’t?”
She peeks over her shoulder and, seeing Asher and me sitting up in bed, both clothed and not pawing at each other, she turns around. It’s barely sunrise, and the woman is already dressed head-to-toe in Chanel, with perfectly styled hair and flawless makeup.
I pull the covers up a little higher.
“Would one of you like to explain exactly what happened at last night’s film premiere?”
Asher and I turn to one another, and although I’m sure we both know what she’s talking about, Asher responds with a mischievous grin, “It was averyeventful night. Care to be more specific?”
His hand squeezes my upper thigh under the covers, and even though she has no idea what he’s referring to, my traitorous face still turns red.
She folds her arms across her chest and sighs impatiently at her son. “Did you threaten Graham Sinclair?”
“No.”
“The morning papers say otherwise, Asher.” She pins him with a pointed glare. “There are pictures of the two of you in what appears to be a heated argument—one where you end up manhandling him at his own premiere. So tell me, how’s that not a threat?”
“I asked him to apologize,” he simply says.
“You…” She scoffs, throwing her hands up in frustration. “You asked him to apologize? For what? What could possibly be so important that you needed Graham Sinclair to apologize for?—”
“He insulted Mercury.”
Her eyes widen, and her demeanor shifts instantly. “What do you mean? What did he say?”
“It doesn’t matter what he said?—”
“He insinuated that our relationship was fake and asked when we might end it so he could ‘get it line,’” I say. I know Asher thinks he’s protecting me by censoring Graham’s words in front of his mother, but it only lessens the severity of his actions.
And I won’t let the asshole get off that easy because I know what he said to me was probably only the tip of the iceberg compared with what he’s done to others.
Theodora’s eyes dart from me to her son, then she gives a firm nod and says, “I’ll be sure to let Connor know. Now, as for?—”
The door bursts open again, and before Asher can groan about privacy and respect, Mac walks in and immediately marches up to the countess. He says something to her in anurgent, hushed tone, and I watch her eyes go wide, then lock onto Asher.
“Your father collapsed on his morning walk,” she says. “He’s been rushed to the hospital.”
ASHER
My father’s cancer diagnosis has not yet been made public. As far as everyone knows, he is in perfect health, and I am just the scandalized son of an earl who’s finally returned home in hopes of repairing his image.
Much to my surprise, my mother even suggested I hold off on announcing my retirement from the band, out of fear that it might spark speculation that my father’s health was in jeopardy.
I told her she was being paranoid, reminding her again that we were not (technically) royal. No one is that invested in the life of a single earl, but then she reminded me how often my face appears on the front page of the paper, and so she ignored me and sent the request to Lance anyway.
So as far as anyone knows, Manic at Midnight is still alive and well.
If they only knew…
Mercury and I have been sitting in the tiny A&E waiting area for over an hour when my mum finally appears, a cloud of flustered annoyance. I’ve got a ball cap and glasses on, a shitty attempt to hide my appearance, while Mercury is dressed down in a hoodie and jeans with her hair tucked under a borrowed capof mine. So far, it seems to be working. Either that, or no one expects Asher Knight to show up at a rural hospital in the middle of Scotland.
Either way, I don’t care.
All my thoughts are on the frail man somewhere in this hospital, and the fate that awaits me if he doesn’t walk out of here.
The countess barrels toward us, her heels clicking on the floor as she barks into the phone, then tosses it into her purse without saying goodbye. “He’s stable for now, but they’re running tests. Come,” she commands, gesturing sharply. “We’re moving to the relatives’ room.”
