Aspiring Nobody

Chapter 33 My mistake

ERIN'S POV

As I gulp down half a glass of water at the kitchen sink, I hear Styles clap his hands and ask everyone to head outdoors. What am I doing here? I feel like his shiny mid-life crisis: only he's not middle-aged, and I'm not shiny, and no one even knows about me.

"Well, that was an interesting little display I just witnessed in the hall."

The unfamiliar female voice has me spinning around to see Natasha pulling a bottle of wine from the fridge. Where did she come from? I didn't see her when Styles was introducing me to the posh crowd.

"I hope you know what you're getting yourself into with a self-absorbed playboy like Ashley, darling?"

Since I have no idea how to respond, I say nothing.

"He won't commit to anyone. Well, he was engaged to that little twit once, but that didn't last."

As Natasha pours wine into her empty glass, it gurgles, splashing over the bench top. I set my glass down beside her tall, thin stemmed wineglass, and she scrunches her nose up.

"Darling, we're not drinking from a goon bag. This is a three-hundred-dollar bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon." She grabs another wine glass from the bench and starts pouring. "So, what is it you're after with him?" she asks.

Without sounding argumentative, I pick up my glass of wine and say, "how is this any of your business?"

She takes a sip of her wine and then licks the wine from the corner of her mouth. "True, darling, true. But just be aware that Ashley doesn't have romantic relationships, only sexual ones. That's what he does. That's how he works. He'll say anything to get his way. He is his father's son after all. It's learnt behavior."

I'm not sure if I should toss my wine in her face or listen with open ears.

She takes another sip of her wine and then points her glass at me. "Besides, his father would never approve of him being with you."

"Why?" I ask.

She lifts her chin and looks down her pointy nose at me. "Because you work in a strip club, darling. He'll think you're nothing but an aspiring little nobody looking to gain a rich somebody."

A burst of heat rushes through my body.

"Darling," she taps her black pointy fingernail against the wineglass, ting, ting. "You don't look so good." She takes another sip of her wine.

As the floor moves beneath me, I grab hold of the bench and somehow steady my weak legs. My pulse is pounding in my eardrums. She knows.

Oh. My. God.

This is no coincidence. How does she know? Who else knows? How long before Styles finds out? What do I do now? How do I respond? Without uttering a single word, I flee the room. Once I'm out the kitchen door, I run down the hall and don't stop until I reach the bathroom by the office. I need a place to hide, so I can compose myself before I bawl.

I wish I could go to Styles and confess — tell him I made a serious mistake — and I would if I weren't afraid of repercussions; but even if had the courage to tell him now, I wouldn't while he has a house full of guests. That would be unfair and inconsiderate. But who am I kidding, I don't have the guts to tell him? I'm too scared he won't want me when he finds out. Hah! That's if he even wants me beyond sex. And if what Natasha said is true, then I am nothing to him.

Her words keep rolling around in my head: 'You're just an aspiring little nobody looking to gain a rich somebody.'

I splash three handfuls of cold water onto my face and then stare into the mirror. Black streaks are running down my cheeks, and the hair around my face is wet. I look a mess. I'm such an idiot. Simone was right about this whole thing with Styles being a disaster waiting to happen.