You're Still the One

by Sasha Clinton

  “You know I’m being crazy, right? I’m usually not this… uninhibited.”

  “Keep being crazy. I like where this is going.” His eyes were on the road, though his mind was definitely on her.

  “It’s going to Kat’s apartment.” That was where it was going.

  “Yep. And here we are. Kat’s apartment.” He said it in a matter-of-fact way and she had to wonder if the chemistry from a second ago had been a mirage.

  He pulled up at the corner of the street where the apartment building was, and penetrated her with his gaze, drawing out all the audacity that had lain dormant in her since sixteen.

  Being the object of his smoky gaze made her blood rush faster. He had eyes to die for—heavy-lidded, mysterious and utterly delicious.

  His lips were pursed so tight that she wanted to open them up. Lick them and then dive into this interesting stranger she had met. Ashley leaned closer to him, until her eyelashes fanned his jaw.

  “You’re a risk-taker, aren’t you?” she asked, tilting her head upward. “Wanna take a risk tonight?”

  “Depends on the return.” The coldness of the gray vanished. She had never thought of gray as a warm color, but now she did.

  His body language was clear. He was up for this. Their eyes met and confirmed their intentions.

  Then her tongue darted to his lips, licking along the outline of them. He had a warm mouth, smooth enough to make her slide easy, yet rough enough to make it exciting. When she relented, he drove his lips into hers and suckled them, not even allowing her a breathing break.

  Rapture stung her lips. Andrew probed into her, conquering her mouth with his and making her squirm with emotions she couldn’t control. The teasing of his tongue tantalized her lips. She clenched her groin and pulled her legs together to contain the currents that were rocking her lower half.

  The fragrance of him mingled with the heat of their kiss, setting her nerves on fire. His hands roamed free over her shoulders, exploring her skin. He grabbed her thighs and kneaded the flesh with his hands while bombarding her tongue with a sensory explosion.

  “Want to come in?” she asked.

  All she knew about him was that he was a good driver. Yet she wanted to sleep with him. When had she become so reckless?

  At least you know his name and what he does.

  “I don’t do drunk girls. We’ll have to wait till you’re sober.” He had more sense than her, which was always a nice quality for a man to have. “You might feel differently about this night tomorrow. And then you’ll blame me for having taken advantage of you.”

  She didn’t argue. It was the first time in her life she had kissed someone so impulsively. And the first time she had felt so satiated with just a kiss.

  “I’ll see you again, though, won’t I?” she asked. She tried to find the chit of paper with her number in her purse, which she’d saved, in case a lucky encounter like this happened.

  “Not unless you’re up for midnight dates in my office. I’m fully invested in my business right now. It’s a twenty-four seven thing for me.”

  Dates in the office sounded romantic, in a corporate sort of way. It would be a new experience, if nothing else. She’d identified the type of guy he was—workaholic, ambitious and focused—the minute she’d met him. She was attracted to him precisely for that reason—he was what she was not.

  Andrew let out a sigh. “I’m sorry if I led you on. I was just acting on the attraction I felt for you. My first commitment is to Dracosys. You’ll have to live with that if we continue seeing each other. Can you?”

  “I find your dedication very admirable. And dates in the office sound incredibly kinky.” She licked her lips.

  That got his eyebrows up. “You’re the first girl who’s said that to me.” His finger trailed over her cheek. “Think about it carefully.”

  In response she bit his bottom lip. When she was sober, she was definitely going to regret this move.

  “Here’s my number.” She shoved it into his jeans pocket, getting a good feel of his sinewy limbs in the process.

  “I’ll text you mine. You know, if you change your mind tomorrow, you can always tell me. I’ve made more than my share of stupid mistakes after getting drunk.”

  She freed herself from the seatbelt and opened the car door.

  “I am a steadfast woman.” She placed one high heel on the sidewalk “Once I’ve made up my mind, that’s it.”

  “You’re ticking more and more boxes on my perfect girl list.”

  “You have a list? I thought only women made lists like that.”

  “My list is mental,” he said. “And I keep forgetting half the qualities on it, which defeats the whole purpose of a list.”

  She shut the door and waved to him, walking to her apartment. He waited until he saw her enter the building before zooming off.

  Touching her lips, which were still moist from the kiss, she couldn’t help but feel exhilarated. There was something about him. Something about Andrew Smith that sent every atom inside her into a nuclear explosion.

  Shaking her head, she keyed in the code to get the apartment door to open.

  What a crazy night.

  Chapter 2

  The next day

  Morning had a way of unearthing all the dark things that should be stored away in hard-to-reach places. Like guilt.

  And few things incited guilt as much as drinking binges. She’d drunk too much last night. Way too much. She was going to need a liver transplant soon if she didn’t cut back on her alcohol intake.

  Her head defined the word agony, with its incessant pricking and throbbing. The gallons of health-damaging cocktails she’d downed last night were coming back to bite her in the ass.

  Ashley rubbed her tired and blurry eyes. Her consciousness had returned five minutes ago, but her brain was already chaotic with thoughts of what had happened after she’d left the bar.

  She’d kissed her possible future boss. While drunk. And enjoyed it, too. Her cheeks heated up. Another potential job down the drain. At this rate, she was going to be permanently unemployed.

  Like any insecure twenty-two-year-old, she reached for her phone to affirm whether last night had been real. There was one new message. From an unknown number.

  Hope you slept well. This is my number. I’m busy most of today, but I’ll call you after eleven, if you still want me to. Andrew.

  Ashley buried her face in her palms. The thrill she felt was worse than a thirteen-year-old-girl’s. When was the last time she’d been so excited about going out with a guy?

  She replied to him in a heartbeat, not wanting to waste a second.

  I haven’t changed my mind about you.

  The three hearts at the bottom were excessive, but in her excitement, she pressed send without thinking. Then she looked at the clock.

  It was ten. Time to look at the emails that had come in, or rather the emails she hoped would have come in, from the companies she’d emailed her resume to. Scrolling down her phone screen, she saw spam mails, ads, a newsletter she’d subscribed to five months ago, two rejections, another ad, Amazon trying to sell her books, etc etc.

  Of the twenty emails in her inbox, not a single one was a positive response from an employer. This was really depressing. She’d not had any responses this week. If this trend continued… she didn’t want to think.

  Someone knocked on the door.

  “Are you up, Ash?” Kat enquired, nervously, sticking her neck in the space between the door and the frame.

  “Up and eagerly waiting to see the unfaithful bitch who abandoned me with a stranger last night.”

  Kat sighed as she stepped in.

  She’d returned from her binge-drinking spree with Bella only five hours ago, but Kat looked fresh as a dewdrop. Sometimes, Ashley wondered if she was a cyborg.

  Kat was in work attire—a gray business suit. Brunette hair groomed into a pixie cut coupled with an air of professionalism made her look like the epitome of an efficient white-col
lar worker.

  “I was leaving for work. Just wanted to check on how you were doing… and apologize for last night.”

  Kat had managed to get a job at the New York Times. She’d interned with them for two summers and they’d snapped her up after graduation when a position had opened up for a rookie reporter.

  “Traitor!” Ashley screamed. “How could you leave me alone?”

  “Bella and I were both so drunk, we didn’t want to pull you down with us. Besides, you and Andrew looked so good together we couldn’t resist. I’m sorry. Really sorry.”

  Ashley decided not to drag this out, since Kat had to get to the office.

  “Okay, I’ll forgive you since I’m not big on holding grudges against friends, but if you abandon me next time, we’re through.”

  “Thank you. I’m sorry, Ash. I was so stoned. I’m sorry you had to come back with Andrew. Did anything happen between you two?”

  “We kissed.” Ashley cuddled her pillow close to her chest to contain her childish excitement. She could jump up and down her room for hours with her current energy level.

  “What?” Kat’s mouth hung open. “Okay, that was quick. I mean… really? Oh, my goodness. So what now?”

  “We’re going to start dating.”

  “You met him yesterday and you’re already a couple today?”

  “I know. I wish job applications moved this fast,” Ashley said sarcastically.

  “Something will come up. Don’t lose heart.” Kat rubbed her shoulders. “Or you can always join Bella and get a graduate degree.”

  “I’m not that smart or motivated.”

  Higher education was out of the question. After four years at college, even one more day was too much. She wanted to be an adult now—an economically independent citizen, not a debt-ridden graduate accumulating more student loans.

  “Bella loves philosophy, though. I could never imagine doing something so dull with my life. I like to be where the action is.”

  Hence, Kat had chosen to be a reporter. Unlike Ashley, who had as much clarity on her career path as visibility in a fog, Kat had known since she was eight (or so she claimed) that she wanted to be a political reporter.

  “Oh, look at the time. I need to go..” Kat pecked Ashley on the cheek. “Bye.”

  The door clicked shut, leaving Ashley all alone in the two-bedroom loft. Skipping into the kitchen, Ashley made herself a mug of coffee and assembled a bowl of cereal for breakfast.

  Expecting some saccharine hoops to give her her morning shot of sugar, she gobbled the first spoon in a hurry… and spat it out. Urgh! What was that disgusting flavor mixed in with the sugar?

  Shuffling through the kitchen cabinets, Ashley hunted for the culprit. She found it, sitting in a plastic container, looking all innocent. Ashwagandha.

  Kat had been bitten by the health-fad bug last year and she’d started putting exotic herbs with foreign names in everything.

  Ashley dumped the vile-tasting mess of cereal into the bin and rinsed her tongue to erase traces of it. Her cells were still craving sugar, so she poured flour into a bowl and added spoonfuls of sugar and berries to it. It had been a long time since she’d eaten blueberry pancakes.

  Despite being half burnt and completely deformed, they were sweet, which was the most important trait for a pancake. She smeared strawberry jam over them. The more sugar she could ingest in a single bite, the better.

  They tasted as delicious as they should. The charring hadn’t significantly affected their flavor. This was the most satisfying breakfast she had eaten all week. She should make this every day.

  The sound of a new email in her inbox made her jump out of the kitchen and hurtle to her laptop. Maybe it was an offer for an interview.

  Hope left her lungs when she read it.

  Thank you for applying for the position of entry-level equity business analyst at XO Consulting. We received many strong applications for this position. Unfortunately, your application does not match the exact requirements of the position. Due to the large volume of applications we receive, we are unable to provide individual feedback.

  We look forward to receiving your application for another role in the future and wish you all the best with your career.

  HR team

  XO Consulting

  Ashley deleted it immediately, before looking at it made her emotional.

  This had been one of the positions she had wanted badly—she had almost become obsessed with it in the recent weeks. It was painful to watch it slip away.

  Where was she going wrong?

  She had no major work experience or internships to distinguish herself from the crowd, but a degree from NYU and being the leader of the brass band in high school had to count for something, right?

  The familiar panic and anxiety overcame her. What if she never found a job? What if the four years of painstaking work she had put into her degree had been nothing more than a way to boost her ego and get a worthless piece of paper?

  No, she had to stop. She had gone through these motions too many times to fall into the trap of negativity again.

  She had to look to the future. Pick herself up, dust herself off and start all over again.

  And she was going to start dating a hot guy now.

  That had to be a good omen.

  ***

  Dracosys was housed in an old commercial building in downtown Brooklyn. It shared the space with five other businesses—Shaw and Co accountants and three other legal firms whose logos were glued onto the front wall.

  The roads were a little sparsely populated, as would be expected at this hour, but there were still people, mostly late-night workers, roaming about.

  The pizza place and Starbucks on the ground floor of the building were dark. Except for one room on the thirteenth floor, all the other lights in the building were out. Ashley could guess whose room that was.

  A sleepy security guy was watching something on the computer. By what Ashley could make out, it wasn’t CCTV footage, unless Katherine Heigl and Gerard Butler were in this building.

  His head snapped up when she entered.

  “What’s your business here?” He sounded irritated since his Netflix movie-viewing had been interrupted.

  “I’m here to meet someone. Dracosys,” she said, pointing up.

  He must’ve decided that a girl wearing a pink coat couldn’t be that dangerous, so he let her go. She was so grateful for stereotypes, sometimes.

  Ashley pressed for the elevator and got off at the thirteenth floor. Industrial interiors and fading red-brick walls characterized the place. A lingering silence followed her all the way to Andrew’s room. She clutched her bag tightly, feeling like a character in a mystery drama. The only thing missing was the creepy background music. There was a lighted-up banner with the name ‘Dracosys’ in front of a door. She pushed the door and it opened. The first bullet of light made her head hurt, but her eyes adjusted to it quickly.

  Dracosys’ office was a large room that had groups of desks and chairs facing the windows. Andrew’s business must be doing well. Rents in New York were steep. The cubicles were small and cramped and overflowing with papers, discarded food wrappers and colorful stationery. If someone gave her rubber gloves, she would have cleaned this place up free of charge. It reeked of startup—messy employees and constricted cash flow.

  Three spectacled guys were huddled over a computer screen, having what sounded like a serious discussion about some bugs in the system. They were so engrossed in their conversation that she slipped by, unnoticed.

  Ashley knocked on the door to Andrew’s office—a door with the words ‘CEO’ engraved on it—before opening it and stepping in.

  Hunched over the chair, Andrew was talking to someone on the phone. He acknowledged her with a smile.

  There was something different about him today. A certain lightness which made him look more charming.

  In his flannel shirt and ripped jeans, he looked more laid-back than he had yesterday at the bar
. He also looked more real—not at all like a hot illusion that had originated from her drunk brain, though he was still hot.

  Andrew swiveled in his chair and stared out of the large window behind his desk, listening to the speaker who was on the phone with him and mumbling ‘yes’ and ‘okay’ at appropriate intervals. Periodically referring to the spreadsheet on his laptop screen, he tried to convince the person on the other end of the line of the merits of a product—a potential customer, Ashley assumed from his tone.

  She wandered around the room, waiting for him to hang up. It was a small room, but it was packed. There was a green couch that looked like a St. Patrick’s Day cast-off, flanked by an open bookshelf which had no books but was stuffed with instant noodle containers, disposable chopsticks and a variety of other unhealthy processed foods. The old mahogany desk Andrew was tapping his fingers was the only impressive piece of furniture in the room. At least it looked antique.

  Ashley made herself home on the couch.

  “Okay, thank you,” Andrew said, putting the phone down.

  He exhaled like he’d finished a trek up the Himalayas. From the expression on his face, Ashley could tell that the call had gone well.

  “Somebody important?” she asked.

  “Yeah. A really big potential customer. If I can nail this deal, it’ll do wonders for our finances.” Andrew popped the top two buttons of his shirt open and the sight of his chest made her throat go dry and her mind go wild with thoughts of running her red fingernails over him. “Sorry. I shouldn’t bore you with business on our first date.”

  He offered her a plastic cup with water and she took it eagerly. “Thanks. I like your office, by the way. It’s quirky and compact.”

  He laughed. “The last person who saw this place before you said it looked like something a bunch of eighteen-year-old geeks who were left to their own devices would come up with. But it’s not bad for two people who’ve never done anything artistic in their life, is it?”