Longing and Lies Read Online Free Page A

onto her face, highlighting her prominent cheekbones. “So,” she said on a breath, “what’s on the agenda for today?”
    But even as Mia ran down the list of upcoming events they had to take care of, Ashley’s mind was elsewhere. Elliot Morgan. Babies. Twenty years. Maybe this is a blessing in disguise.
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    Ashley walked through her small one-bedroom apartment, which she’d worked diligently on to transform from the drab place she’d originally rented into her cozy abode. Being an R&B music buff, she had one wall in her living room dedicated to some of her favorite artists: Smokey Robinson, Stevie, Luther, Gladys, Anita Baker, The Temps, James Brown, Michael Jackson, Jazmine Sullivan, Earth, Wind & Fire, Frankie Beverly and Maze, and Maxwell to name a few. Her collection was extensive, going back to some classic 45s and collector’s items album covers.
    The sparkling wood floors were dotted with oversized pillows, low tables and standing plants. Rather than curtains or blinds in the windows, they were covered with hanging philodendrons.
    But her bedroom was truly her sanctuary. Her queen-sized bed with its downy pillow-top mattress took upmuch of the small space. But it was truly fit for a queen. To conserve room, she had her flat screen television mounted on the wall. The one great amenity was the walk-in closet that housed her extensive wardrobe, another one of her addictions—clothes.
    That brought to mind these new living arrangements. How was she going to get along without her music and all of her clothes and shoes? Sighing she tugged off her cropped sweater and put it in the bag for the cleaner.
    She sat down on the foot of the bed and pulled off her ankle boots, just as her cell phone began to ring. She pulled it from the case on her hip and frowned at the unfamiliar number. She pressed the talk icon.
    â€œHello?”
    â€œHi. Ashley?”
    The low timbre shimmied up her spine. “Who is this?”
    â€œSorry. It’s E—uh, Elliot Morgan.”
    Her heart bumped against her chest. She cleared her throat. “Oh,” was all she could sputter as she tried to get her brain to catch up with the fact that he was on the phone.
    â€œLook, I know I was being a jerk earlier today. And we, uh, probably got off on the wrong foot.”
    Her brows rose in surprise. “Probably,” she teased and could almost see a smile on his face. She crossed her legs.
    â€œSo I was thinking that before we do this live-inthing maybe we should try to get to know each other…first.”
    â€œMeaning?”
    â€œHave you had dinner?”
    â€œNo, I haven’t.” She swallowed over the sudden knot in her throat.
    â€œCan I interest you in dinner?”
    What the hell! Was he asking her out on a date? Her pulsed pounded and her thoughts short-circuited.
    â€œHey, maybe that was a bad idea. Guess I’ll see you on moving—”
    â€œNo. I’m sorry. You just caught me off guard. Dinner. Sure.”
    â€œI can pick you up in about an hour. Is that enough time?”
    Her eyes widened even further. A real date. “Okay.” She started to give him her address.
    â€œI already have it. In the file,” he added by way of explanation.
    â€œIf Jean is nothing else, she’s thorough. I’ll see you in an hour.”
    â€œRight.” He hung up.
    Ashley sat with the phone in her hand for a good two minutes mesmerized by what had transpired. Maybe the “real” Elliot Morgan would show up at dinner. She shook her head, her spiral curls and twists dancing on her head. Taking a quick look at her watch, she hopped up from her bed and began peeling off her clothes as she darted for the shower.
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    After numerous wardrobe changes, she’d finally settled on elegantly casual. She selected a pair of black straight-legged jeans, a pearl-gray blouse that shimmered in the right light, with a black silk button-up sweater. She