Ashton Croft Confidential

by Ava Moore

  I grab my bag, exhale deep and saunter on over, feeling very apprehensive the entire way. Drew waits for me to stand behind her in her chair, ensuring I have a proper position to view her computer screen. She logs onto the Star Struck homepage and sure enough, there is a headline that reads ASHTON CROFT SINGLE! PUBLIC SPLIT FROM STONE AFTER ONLY 24 HOURS along with a video to boot. “You ready?” the other girl teases. “You ready to see the damage you did last night and how you made us all oh so proud?”

  I ignore her and keep my sights on the computer screen ahead, tapping Drew on the shoulder. “Just play it.”

  They both share a devilish stare and then set their eyes upon the screen. Drew presses play and I hold my heart in my chest.

  The video starts with Samantha Stone leaving the test screening in a different car and without Ashton in sight. The media swarms her and flashbulbs go off like crazy, lighting the entire sidewalk. “Samantha! Who was that girl Ashton got into a fight with and why isn’t he leaving with you?”

  You can plainly see the frustration on her face as she turns around, faces the camera and yells, “It’s over. Now, fuck off.” Her security team forces her into the town car and sends her away into the night.

  It looks as though the cameramen are all about to quiet their cameras when someone yells in the distance, “Ashton! Ashton!”

  Everyone in unison flips around from focusing on the street to Ashton, who leaves the event in a flurry of media following him around like he is prey. “Ashton! What happened! What happened to Samantha! Who is the girl?”

  Ashton continues walking towards the SUV designated for him, his security guards manhandling the crowd and doing their best to keep them all at bay. “Ashton! What do you look for in a girl?”

  The question stirs something inside of him and he turns around, much to the dismay of his team. He pauses for a moment, collecting his thoughts as he stares at the ground and then, flashes his Hollywood smile towards the cameras. “I like it straight up – never sugar coated,” whips his hair and vanishes into the safety of the blackened SUV, speeding off into the darkness of the night.

  “See? You caused a break up, Parker. Nicely done!” Drew exclaims turning around in her seat to face me but I don’t give her the reaction she is hoping for. Ashton’s words penetrate deep into my soul. They were the words he used during our first cheers at dinner and the ones that resonated with me the most. Those words are our words and I know he was talking about me, thinking about me, when he said it. His smile says it all. He feels the same way about me.

  Conflicted and with the battle to end all battles raging inside of me, I swallow hard and walk towards the exit of the room, not saying a word to the girls.

  “Hey! Parker! What’s the matter?” the one girl calls out after me. “Croft got your tongue?”

  The two share a diabolical laugh and I pick up the pace to leave the office faster, tears forming in my eyes and my entire body shaking. “Parker! C’mon! Don’t tell us you are falling in love with him! You don’t want to ruin the job and lose it all!”

  Their threats hit me hard and far too close to home. This is my biggest fear of all; that I get too close to Ashton and end up getting my heart broken in the end. Now, I have so much more to lose than I did just last week. Now, my job is on the line and my future in writing relies so heavily on this job. Jane is such a powerhouse and if I do her wrong, even just once, I can kiss my career bye bye. Before, I was just a lonely columnist with not much to her name and now, I’m the lead gossip writer for one of the largest celebrity magazines in all of North America. Now, I am someone, even if that someone is not who I want to be. Now, I matter, to more people than just my family and friends, and that is something that I am going to have to get used to.

  I’m tempted to call Ashton as soon as I’m free from the premises and have some privacy from the sharks that are the other writers at Star Struck, but I still can’t bring myself to do it. Some fear is still holding me back and the fact that he took me on one of the largest emotional roller coaster rides I have ever been on, is still really distressing to me. I allowed him into the fortress surrounding my heart, thinking that he was worth it and although most of the signs pointed to yes in this moment, it’s not how the majority of the week has felt. The sex was amazing but weird, the conversation flowed and halted all in the same moment and he has been missing in action this entire time. I don’t think I’m ready to start something with someone whose life I have to follow online and via the media, but still, there is and always will be something about him that pulls me in.

  I hold my cell phone in my hands as the summer air plays with my hair and contemplate dialing his number. I get close, but some imaginary force field continues to hold me back. I’m a firm believer in everything happens for a reason, so I’m having a hard time doing this because it means something; maybe something deeper than I can comprehend right now. Both my brain and heart have been through the ringer this week and my entire life has literally been turned upside down. Right is wrong, wrong is right, stop is go, go is stop and I sometimes don’t even know if I’m still Tricia or if, deep down, I’m turning into my asshole alter ego, Devan Morris. The $10,000 check in my hands makes this thought all the more questionable.

  I ultimately decide to hail a cab from the point in which I’m standing on the sidewalk and am able to command one in seconds. I instruct the driver to head back through midtown and to take me to my apartment, stuffing my cell phone into my bag. If Ashton Croft really wants to be with me and really wants this to be a happy ending, he will have to end the games and come searching for me. If he wants me, he can come and get me.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “I’ll take chocolate over sex any day of the week,” Cris snickers, with a mouthful of chocolate ice cream stuffed into her mouth. We share a smile and I do the same, loading my mouth with a spoonful of delicious comfort.

  When Cris came into town earlier this afternoon, the last thing I expected was a phone call from her at the airport, asking if she could come and stay at my apartment with me. Of course, in the current state that her marriage is in, the last thing I want to do is make things harder for her, so my entire afternoon was spent cleaning my apartment head to toe, which basically consisted of me hiding a lot of things into my closet space and other nooks and crannies. I also went through an entire tub of Lysol wipes, trying to get rid of some of the grime on nearly every surface of my apartment. I have to admit, when I do clean up, it looks quite cozy in here.

  We are nestled on my couch bed, watching TV on my tiny flat screen while eating through an assortment of delicious junk food items we got from the convenience store a couple blocks away. Typically, my apartment would be hotter than hell on a summer night like this, but rain has started pouring down outside and with the windows all open, the cool wet air helps to decrease the temperature in here by a lot. It’s refreshing and very fitting for a night in.

  I haven’t had a girls’ night like this with Cris in ages. In high school, this was a regular occurrence for us, but with both of us moving across the country, attending different schools and ending up in different states, both pertaining to our living quarters and lives, we weren’t able to do this at all. It’s refreshing having her back and even more refreshing having a clean apartment to be proud of.

  “Why do they insist on doing this kind of shit to us?” I try to snarl through a mouthful of ice cream. “Why are guys such assholes?” We have been man hating for nearly three hours now, ever since she arrived. My apartment is littered with candy bar wrappings, take out food boxes from Peeking Garden, empty crushed cans of beer, snot filled Kleenex and verbal lashings to all of the men who have ever done us wrong. To me, this is like a regular weekday night but to Cris, I am sure her body hasn’t handled this much wasteful food or stress in ages.

  “I just don’t know why Greg would do this to me. To our family,” Cris begins, I can see the tears welling in her eyes again. You can’t have a good man hating session without shedding s
ome tears.

  I reach over and pat her on the back, turning down the volume on the TV to hear her better, “I don’t know sweetie, but what I do know is that you are a goddess and most men would kill for the chance to be with you.”

  “I just don’t want any other man,” Cris sobs between mouthfuls of ice cream. “I just want Greg and now I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  I pat her on the back again, hoping the human touch will bring her some reassurance. “Time heals all, unfortunately. I think it’s a good thing that you got away this week and will have the boys here with you this weekend. It will help for both of you to clear your minds.”

  Cris nods and wipes the tears away from her eyes. “I need another beer.”

  I smile and get up to head on over to the fridge, “Coming right up!”

  “So, what are you going to do about Ashton?” she asks, as I dip my head into the fridge to get two cold ones. I pause for a moment, allowing the refrigerated air to help me collect my thoughts. I grab the two cans of beer and turn around to her, closing the fridge door behind me.

  “I have no idea.”

  “It just doesn’t make sense. You two have this insane connection at the bar just with your eyes, go on this incredible date and then he gets so awkward, he makes the rest of your week a living hell of a guessing game. Why does he do that?”

  I hand Cris her beer and dive into mine, hoping the carbonated booze filled liquid will help me think of anything, but I just shrug my shoulders.

  “And then, he breaks up with Samantha Stone, leaves you this subliminal message via the Internet and then doesn’t bother to call you?” She’s right. Ever since I left the office, I haven’t heard a damn word from Ashton and trust me, I have kept my phone on my body for the whole day, stopping to check on it on occasion but constantly being disappointed.

  “I don’t know love, but what I do know is that if he did care as much as he leads on, he would have done something about it,” I take a swig of beer and stuff my face with more junk food.

  “Have you tried calling him?” Cris asks, innocently and genuinely.

  I stare at her with frozen eyes and all I can do is shake my head and guzzle my beer down quickly.

  “How come?”

  This was supposed to be a fun night, Cris!

  I keep tending to my beer, hoping she will drop the subject but I know she won’t. I just shrug my shoulders again and keep downing beer, hoping that being in a tipsy state will make talking about this easier.

  “Are you afraid?” Cris stops drinking, eating and shuts off the TV, knowing me better than I know myself. If I don’t have anything in the room to focus on, I will have to share my feelings and she knows it. She looks deep into my dark brown eyes and waits for my reply.

  I can feel the tears forming in my eyes again, which is ridiculous considering how much I have sobbed this past week. I try to shake them off. “It’s nothing.”

  “Bullshit. Tell me. You need to get this out.” Damn you, Cris, for being such an amazing friend.

  I take a deep breath in of the cool summer rain air and let it all out in the next moment, my breath trembling as I do so. “I’m just scared.” I try to choke back the tears but I’m having a hard time doing so, my beer can shakes in my head as I try to steady it.

  “What are you afraid of?” Cris comforts me with a hand on my leg, trying to get me to look up at her and to let it all out. Thanks, Dr. Phil.

  “I’m just afraid of being hurt again,” I confess, finally allowing the seven words to escape out of my mouth that have been holding me back from love for the past four years. It feels cathartic but in the same breath, it’s hard to admit to it. I take a deep exhale in, filling my lungs with air after the fact and let it all out again, feeling for the first time in a long time, freedom - freedom from Dan, freedom from financial stress and freedom from the barricade around my heart.

  Cris says nothing and instead, scoots over on my plush couch bed to embrace me into her arms and cradle me as I sob like I’m her offspring. The hug is the most comfort I have felt in a while and the security is something I have longed for, so I embrace it, with every ounce of my being. She wipes the tears from my eyes and reminds me that true friends really do exist in this world and are more like family. “Do you think maybe Ashton is just afraid as well?”

  The question stabs through the fortress around my heart and sinks deep inside of me. I stop crying instantly and sit upright, facing Cris. “What do you mean?”

  She swallows and repositions herself, smiling at me all the while. “Well, I’m just playing devil’s advocate here but what if he feels the same overwhelming emotions you do? What if he is going through the same inner turmoil and keeping his distance because he is afraid of getting hurt again too?”

  “Wouldn’t he have called though? I haven’t heard from him all day,” I try to stand my ground and try to refrain from taking her words into too deep of a consideration.

  “Didn’t he call you like twenty times last night?”

  I find my lips curling into a smile and I thwart the reaction with some half-assed pout. “Twenty-five times to be exact.”

  Cris puffs air through her nose sarcastically and slaps me on the leg. “You doofus. If he didn’t care, you wouldn’t have heard a single world. He’s trying. You have to give him that. Plus, the cryptic message with the paparazzi. He’s trying.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “He could try harder.”

  Cris laughs and rolls her eyes. “It does take two to tango, you remember the saying?”

  I reciprocate the eye roll and tend to the rest of my beer. “Whatever, Love Guru.”

  Cris sucks her lips into her mouth and chews on them with frustration, trying to keep it in even though I know she wants to shake me and knock some sense into me. “All I’m saying is, after twenty-five phone calls, endless voicemails and publically displaying an inside phrase that only he would recognize, you’d get tired of being the only one putting in the effort too.”

  She’s right. Again. I hate that she’s always right. No, I fucking hate that she’s always right but damn do I love her for it. “So, what do I do?”

  She smiles and passes my cell phone into my lap. “Call him.”

  I stare down at the phone in my lap and can’t bring myself to do it. I’m too petrified. “I can’t,” I shove it back in her direction. “I can’t do it.”

  Cris doesn’t let up and forces it back into my direction. I feel like we are playing some childish game of hot potato and I’m losing. “You’re Trish Parker, the ballsiest woman I know and you are going to tell me you are afraid of calling someone?”

  “I hate you,” I spew at her, grabbing my phone and dialing his number. She smiles at me with satisfaction and it’s enough to make me want to slap the smile right off of her lips, despite the fact that I can’t possibly thank her enough in this moment.

  Every ring that passes by in my ear makes me feel sick to my stomach. Forget having butterflies in my stomach; I have full on crows flapping their wings in there. I tremble on the bed and blow puffs of air out of my lungs, trying to do absolutely anything and everything to distract myself from falling apart.

  It rings.

  Once.

  Twice.

  Three times.

  No answer.

  Before the call can reach voicemail, I press the end button and toss the phone back to Cris. “No answer, so there.” I don’t want to be right in this situation though. I want to be wrong. I want him to prove me wrong and he is still failing to do so.

  “Try again,” Cris pressures me but it’s all too much.

  I dart up from the bed in utter panic and start pacing back and forth. “I can’t, Cris. This is too hard. I can’t handle this pressure.” I feel like a pinball darting back and forth across the floors of my apartment, the old wood creaking beneath each shaken step I take. “If he cared that much, he would come looking for me.”

  Then it hits me and I stop dead in my tracks, standing
upright on the floor and ready to topple over at a moment’s notice. Cris notices my newfound ghost like complexion and freezes. “Trish, you okay?”

  I cover my mouth with shock and start darting around the room again, this time with purpose. “I know where he is,” I begin, practically running to the other side of the room to grab my coat. “I have to go.”

  “Where are you going? What’s going on? Can I come?” Cris is as equally as frantic as I am and I don’t blame her.

  Before abandoning her in my apartment, I stroll over to her and place my hands on her shoulders to steady her, the widest grin stamped on my face, “If you’re right and if this is meant to be, then look out the west facing and two blocks down window in five minutes.”

  “Where are you going?”

  I smile at her. “I’m going to take a chance on love.” I run out of the entrance to my apartment and fly down the flights of stairs, my legs barely unable to keep up to the pace and momentum of my body. My heart is fluttering in my chest in a way that it has never before. I feel like I’m floating on air and the banister is the only thing keeping me grounded.

  I can’t get down to the lobby fast enough and as soon as I do, I bolt out of the building doors and hit the New York City street, the rain soaking through my clothing the instant I’m outside. Then, I run, harder and faster than I ever have before. I run two blocks straight, feeling my lungs enclosing in on themselves and the rain pouring down so hard, it nearly blinds me with every stride, but it doesn’t stop me. My body runs on pure unadulterated adrenaline and it won’t stop until I reach my destination.

  I run, illuminated by the New York City street lights until I see a figure sitting outside of The Luxemburg, soaked in the rain and curled up inside of a sweater that isn’t offering them any shelter from the rain. “Ashton!” I try to holler through the dense air, “Ashton!”