by J. J. Bella
Damn, thought Scott as Ashley stood before him, a small folder tucked under her arm, I didn't count on her being this much of a…distraction.
"Yes, Ashley?" he asked, bringing the steaming cup of coffee to his mouth.
"Sorry to interrupt," she said.
"You're not interrupting anything," said Scott.
Truth be told, now with her here doing the bulk of the admin work, there's not much I could be doing that could be interrupted, he thought.
"I just wanted to let you know I finished the financial projections for the next month. Your estimations were accurate, but there were a few tweaks I wanted to make. They're marked in red."
She stepped towards Scott, handing over the folder. As she approached, the subtle smell of lilacs wafted into his nose.
"New perfume?" he said, flipping through the papers.
"Um, yes, actually. Olivia and I did a little shopping and I picked it up there; I hope you don't mind me taking her out."
Scott finished looking through the papers, setting the folder on his desk.
"Not at all, I'm happy to see you two hitting it off; most adults tend to avoid her when she puts up that ice queen front."
"She's just shy. I used to be the same way; people mistake being shy for being, well, bitchy, if you're a girl."
"True," said Scott. "Sh-"
Before he could continue, a soft, child's voice sounded through the hallway.
"Da-aaaddd!" said Olivia, the pattering of her shoes on the stair following soon after.
Within seconds, she appeared at the door to the office. She was dressed in a simple, pink t-shirt and white pants, a pair of new sneakers on her feet, her blonde hair in a high ponytail.
"Dad!" she said.
"Yes?" asked Scott.
"It's Saturday."
"You're right; it is."
"And we always do something fun on Saturdays," said Olivia, preparing her argument.
"We have been known to do fun things on Saturdays, yes."
"So…can-we-go-to-the-beach?"
Scott shot a sly glance at Ashley, noting that a gentle blossoming of red was breaking out across her delicate features.
"We may have stopped off for new swimsuits this afternoon."
A small grin tugged at the corner of Scott's mouth.
"OK, I think I can get away from the office for a few hours. Ashley, call the driver and let him know that of our plans. I'll be ready in a few minutes."
"Yeeesss," said Olivia, her fist closed, pulling her elbow to her body in a victory gesture.
The three of them pack up the beach necessities, prepared some sandwiches, and changed into their appropriate attire. Ashley emerged from her bedroom wearing a wide-brimmed hat, and a black, one-piece bathing suit, a white sarong wrapped around the curves of her waist. Scott's eyes fell upon her slim arms, noting that it was skin that he hadn't seen before.
Enough of that, he thought, getting their gear loaded by the door.
Soon, they were off, down to Baker Beach at the Presidio. The group found an open stretch of sand among the crowds and spread their blankets. Once everything was in order, they all took their seats on the packed sand, the blue of the ocean spreading out before them, the gentle sound of the waves against the shore the only sound beyond the light chattering of fellow beach-goers.
"Perfect day for the beach," said Ashley, looking out onto the water through a pair of large sunglasses.
"No kidding," said Scott, slipping a pair of Wayfarers out of the front pocket of his linen shirt and putting them on. "Fall's gonna be here soon; gotta enjoy these days while you can."
Scott watched as Olivia shucked off her shorts and shoes until she was in nothing but a red-and-white striped swimsuit.
"Come on," she said, stomping a foot into the sand. "Let's go into the water!"
Scott and Ashley shared a knowing look.
"No water until you've got your sunscreen on," said Scott.
"Fine," said Olivia.
"You relax," said Ashley, standing up. "I'll get her."
Scott leaned back, watching Ashley walk across the sand with delicate, feminine steps, the sunscreen in her hand. She applied a healthy amount on Olivia, who ran off towards the surf as soon as she was covered. Then, Ashley slipped off her sarong, tossing it onto the picnic basket.
Through his dark lenses, Scott drank in the sight of Ashley in her simple one-piece, the contours of the suit curving perfectly along the shape of her hips. Her legs were shapely and smooth, her skin fair and flawless. Scott watched as she applied the sunscreen to her body, her hands slowly moving over her comely shape.
Damn, thought Scott, I can't believe this is the same girl I knew all those years ago.
"Coming?" asked Ashley, looking at Scott over her shades.
"In a bit," he said. "I think I'm going to catch up on some reading first."
"Don't be long," Ashley said with a smile, turning towards the beach, her full, perfectly proportioned rear hanging out of the bottom of her swimsuit.
Scott smiled a wry grin, his eyes on Ashley's hips as she strode into the water, thoughts he knew he shouldn't be thinking drifting into his mind as he sat in the warm, afternoon sun.
5
The afternoon passed, and soon the sun began to sink lower into the sky. The early evening chill set in, and soon the group was ready to head home. Ashley noticed her skin was taking on a hint of red, and she figured that was as good of a sign as any to start getting back.
But as she stepped out of the surf for the last time, her eyes settled on Scott. Having long shucked off the light, linen short sleeved button-up he had been wearing, his sculpted, flawless body was now on display. Ashley's eyes moved over his smooth, toned pecs, his wide, strong shoulders, and cut abs; she couldn't spot an ounce of fat on his body if she tried. And, even better, the skin-tight, black swim shorts he was wearing gripped his ample package, leaving little to the imagination.
No lusting after the boss, Ashley had told herself. Especially one who screwed over your friend the way he did.
But the words rang hollow in her thoughts; did she really know for sure that what Regina said about him was true?
"I think I could go for some pizza," said Scott, slipping his bookmark between the pages of his novel. "What do you guys say?"
"Yeah!" shouted Olivia.
On the way home, Scott put in an order for a couple of large pies, which arrived at the house just about the time that they did. Scott took the pizzas from the delivery man as Ashley opened the front doors. Once the table was set, the three of them dug in, satisfying the hunger from their long day out in the sun. Soon, they were full, nothing on their plates but small pools of orange grease. Ashley looked out through the back windows and saw that the sun was dropping low in the sky, the brilliant, clear blue of the say being replaced with creamy oranges and soft purples, the dark of the night above it all.
"Dad, can I have some ice cream?" asked Olivia, a smear of grease on her beaming smile.
"Do you have any homework?" asked Scott, skepticism in his voice.
"No. I mean, yes. I mean, a little."
"Go finish your homework and we'll talk."
"Fine," said Olivia, pushing herself away from the table.
"And don't forget to clear your plate," said Scott.
Olivia took her plate and glass with her to the sink, set them in, and left the room. Ashley watched her with a look of admiration, noting that she seemed to be quite well-behaved for a girl that age without a mother around.
"I don't know about you," said Scott, putting the pizza into one box and shutting the lid, "but I think I could go for something a little stronger than soda."
"That sounds just right to me," said Ashley.
Scott slid a bottle out of the hanging wine rack. After a moment or two, he had the thing open, a pair of glasses poured full with ruby red liquid placed before them.
"It's a nice night," he said. "Care to join me on the deck?"
"I'd lo
ve to," said Ashley.
The pair headed out to the deck. Once they were out, they both noticed a slight chill in the air. Scott flicked the power on a nearby heater, the air around it filling nearly instantly with a pleasant warmth. They both took a seat, each sipping their wine, their eyes on the lights of the city, the gentle din of the faraway traffic floating in the air.
"Mind if I ask you a question?" asked Scott, breaking the silence.
"Um, sure," said Ashley.
"You still keep in touch with Regina?"
Funny he'd ask, thought Ashley, he didn't seem like he was too concerned about her, what with how their relationship ended.
"Why do you ask?"
"Curiosity. We were engaged, after all."
Ashley took a sip of her wine, the rich taste washing over her tongue.
"Not really," said Ashley. "She went off to grad school –NYU, I think- and never looked back. She graduated a couple of years ago and stayed in the city, got a job in public relations, I think. Most I see of her is on Facebook. Usually just pictures of her on vacation or whatever food she's about to eat."
"Hmm," said Scott.
What, not a good enough answer? thought Ashley. Hoping she’s miserable?
Emboldened by the half of glass of wine she'd drunk, Ashley posed a question of her own.
"I have to admit, I'm a little surprised to hear you ask about her. There a reason why you still care?"
Scott turned to Ashley, his eyebrows raised in curiosity.
"Well, like I said, we did use to be engaged."
"Regina was really hurt by what you did you her, just so you know."
"What I did to her?" asked Scott. "What do you mean?"
Ashley closed her eyes, focusing carefully, making sure not to say anything too far out of line.
"I was close to Regina at the time," she said after a moment. "She was a wreck after you broke up with her. You should've heard half the things she said about you."
"I'd be very interested to hear them."
"The specifics aren't important," said Ashley, covering for the reality, which is that she had a hard time remembering exact complaints among the tears and invectives, "but I had to see my best friend be an emotional wreck for months. Whatever you did to her, you did it well."
Scott took a slow sip of wine, weighing the words carefully.
"I know you're –or, were- her friend, but that doesn't mean that everything she says is the gospel truth. There are two sides to every story, you know, especially when it comes to relationships. Maybe you'll learn that one day when you've done some growing up."
With that, Scott finished his wine and went back inside.
Shit, thought Ashley, scolding herself for taking such a stance on what was a long-dead issue. Would it have killed you to take the boss's side? At least he had the good sense to cut the conversation short before it got too heated.
But Ashley couldn't shake the echoes of Regina's accusations. What could Scott have done to make her feel so emotionally devastated? She considered this as she slowly worked her way through her wine.
He was being pretty evasive about the subject, thought Ashley, swirling the last dredges of wine in her glass. Maybe there is something to it? Something more than what he's letting on…
Ashley drained the last bit of wine, turned the heater off, and went back inside. After depositing her glass in the kitchen sink, she returned to the living room to see Scott curled up on the couch with Olivia, the lights in the room dim aside from the children's movie on the TV. Each of the two had a big bowl of ice cream on their lap, their eyes on the screen.
A warm smile crossed Ashley's lips as she watched the scene from a distance. After a time, she went to the kitchen and prepared her own ice cream, filling her bowl with three healthy scoops of chocolate truffle. She joined the two in the living room, watching out of the corner of her eye as Olivia drifted off to sleep, her head resting on Scott's shoulder.
When the movie was done, Scott set their bowls quietly on the coffee table and scooped Olivia into his arms. She roused a bit, smacking her lips and looking at her dad through half-opened eyes. Scott gave Olivia a small kiss on the forehead and took her up the stairs to her bedroom. Each step he took was slow and careful, as if carrying the most precious object in the world.
How could a man who's that sweet to his daughter be as evil as Regina made him out to be? thought Ashley, watching the scene. I need to get to the bottom of this.
Collecting the empty bowls and bringing them to the kitchen, Ashley considered her next move.
6
"Ash, can you hand me the folder for the Sanderson project?" asked Scott, his eyes locked on the computer monitors in front of him, his fingers a blur as he worked.
"Yeah, sure," said Ashley, still not used to the nickname that Scott had started calling her.
Guess things get comfortable quickly when you're working this close for this long, she thought, pulling the magenta folder out from a neat stack of other documents and handing it to Scott.
"Thanks," he said, setting down his cup of coffee and taking the folder from her.
Ashley felt her eyelids droop. She jolted herself alert and stole a furtive glance at the large, analog clock on the wall, seeing that it was nearly one in the morning.
Not exactly how I planned on spending my Friday night, but you gotta do what you gotta do, I guess.
Earlier in the day, Ashley received a text from Scott as she was leaving her last class. Intending on heading to a nearby coffee shop and getting some study time in, but after she read the texts, which let her know that she was needed back at the house to help on an emergency project, Ashley realized that any plans for fun or studying were likely sunk.
Duty calls, she thought, sending a text to the driver before slipping the phone back into the back pocket of her skinny jeans and mentally rearranging her schedule.
The work started at a frantic pace when she arrived back at the house, a pace which had yet to abate. The project entailed gathering Scott's previous work over the last few years and preparing a presentation for a potential client who showed interest in purchasing Scott's software. So, she'd need to get the presentation ready, and he'd need to go over his code. As he explained it to her, this could be the deal he'd been waiting for. The details unclear to her as Scott slipped into impenetrable software jargon, Ashley prepared herself for a busy weekend ahead.
Stop looking at her, thought Scott, finding his eyes drifting towards Ashley as he plugged in line after line of code.
But he couldn't help himself. As soon as the line of code was typed, he'd invariably look over at her with a quick glance, his eyes settling on one part of her or another. Sometimes it would be her bare legs beneath the small pair of black shorts she was wearing, other times it would be the hint of cleavage visible thanks to the deep-v of her tight, white t-shirt. But mostly it was on her face, paying special attention to the way her lovely features would tighten in concentration as she put the information in the presentation together.
This is a distraction, he thought. The whole point of an assistant is to make work easier, not to give me one more difficulty to deal with.
But he couldn't ignore that not only was she a pleasure to look at, she was a pleasure to work with. As soon as he told her that there was a project to be done, she took on the work without a single peep of a complaint, approaching the task at hand with a keen eye and impeccable sense of professionalism, only taking breaks from the project to keep an eye on Olivia.
Not many girls her age with that level of maturity, he thought, his eyes drifting down to her fair, shapely legs once again.
"How's everything looking on your end?" Ashley asked, her eyes down on a pair of documents placed in front of her.
"Not bad. I figure if I budget four hours for sleep, we can have everything done in the next twelve hours."
"Sounds good to me," said Ashley, not a hint of complaint in her voice. "When's this meeting with the investor?"
"Sunday," he said, finishing a line of code.
"Sunday? Doesn't the term ‘day of rest' mean anything to this guy?"
"Not in the valley," said Scott. "This meeting's on the down-low, so we had to squeeze it in during the weekend. He seems to think that if this software is what I've been telling him it is, then investing in it will make him look pretty good to the rest of his firm. But he can't let anyone else get in on it before him, of course."
"Of course," said Ashley, a smirk on her face at the thought of the cutthroat nature of Silicon Valley.
A moment of silence passed as they both worked.
"Any plans for tomorrow night?" asked Scott.
"Probably just going to catch up on my sleep and studying, in whatever order I can."
"Sounds thrilling," said Scott.
"Oh, you know it. And you?"
"I've actually got a date for tomorrow night. I was going to ask you if you could look after Olivia, but getting a sitter's no problem if you need to catch up on things."
"Um, oh, I mean," Ashley said, stammering through her sentence. "I just need to get a power nap in during the afternoon and I can, um, watching her while I study. No problem."
That was…quite the reaction, thought Scott.
"I…didn't know you were playing the field," said Ashley.
"I don't, usually. It's the assistant to a client I worked with a few weeks back. We agreed to go out, but our schedules didn't actually allow for it until tomorrow."
"Oh," said Ashley. "Well, have fun."
Quite a range of emotions in that little exchange, thought Scott.
But before he could give the matter too much thought, he scolded himself again for thinking about Ashley in any way that could be considered "romantic."
This is a problem, he thought, focusing his eyes on his work. An assistant that I can't keep my eyes off of…that's something that I wasn't planning on dealing with.
Scott chose to shelve the issue for now, the work before him the true priority. But as soon as he thought he had turned his attention back fully to his work, he found his eyes drifting once more, this time, his gaze settling on Ashley's own. A tense moment passed as their eyes locked before Scott managed to break away, focusing once again on the dim light of the monitors before him.