Drake and Ashley: The Complete Story

by Noelle Stevens

  But no, I didn’t want to risk never seeing him again.

  When I get home, Emily is sprawled on the couch watching something on TV. “Hey, Ash,” she says when she sees me, then she sits up to make room for me.

  “Hey.” I sink onto the couch next to her and wonder how much of my day I should share with her. Her eyes are on me, and I turn to her with a half-smile.

  “Okay,” she says, sitting up even straighter. “What’s going on?”

  My shoulders slump. “Am I that easy to read?”

  “Uh, yeah. I’ve known you since high school, Ashy-Ash. So yeah, I can tell when something’s up.”

  I chew on the inside of my lip, preparing myself for the inevitable scolding.

  “He made a move on you,” she says, then purses her lips. “The jerk. He did, didn’t he?”

  Oh, Em, I want to say. It’s sooo much worse than that. Instead, I chew harder.

  She reaches out and pats my mouth. “Stop it or you’ll make yourself bleed.”

  I throw my head back against the cushions. “It’s no more than I deserve.”

  Her eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Wait, what?” When I don’t reply, she swats my leg. “Stop making me guess and tell me what happened.”

  I lift my head and meet her gaze. “You know how Drake had me work from his house today? To oversee the tile layers while he was out of town?”

  “Yeah . . .”

  “Well, he got home right when I was about to leave.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Well, we kissed.”

  Her eyes narrow. “Uh-huh.”

  I press my lips together, then blurt, “And we slept together.”

  She stares at me a moment. “I’m confused. How does that make you the bad guy? He’s your boss, remember?”

  “Yes, which is what I reminded him of when he was about to fire me.”

  Shaking her head, she tsk-tsk’s me. “I tried to warn you, Ashley. I did, didn’t I?”

  Her I told you so attitude pushes me over the edge, and I burst out laughing. “Yes, you did, Em. Yes you did.”

  “I think I’m missing the joke here.” Her eyebrows furrow with worry, like I’m losing it.

  “I think I forgot to mention the part where I’m in love with my boss.”

  “Wait. Love love? Or lust love?”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s love love.”

  “Okay, but I still don’t see why that’s funny.”

  “Oh, believe me, it’s not. But if I don’t laugh, I think I’ll cry.” And then I do. Big wracking sobs that shake my body and make my nose run. Emily pulls me against her, but that just makes me cry harder.

  “It will be okay, Ash,” she says as she rubs my back. “You’ll find another job. And you’ll find another man. Don’t forget about Jonathan. I think he really likes you.”

  It takes a minute for her words to penetrate the fog of my brain, but when they do, I sit up, wipe my eyes and nose, and smile. With a stuffy sounding nose, I say, “I don’t have to find a job. I still work for Drake.”

  She recoils as if I slapped her. “What?”

  I nod.

  “I thought he fired you.”

  “No. I convinced him not to.” I pause, then my chin trembles with unshed tears. “Convinced might not be the right word. Manipulated is more like it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I explain how I told him it was his weakness that had put me in the untenable situation, and that it wasn’t right for him to fire me since he has all the power.

  Her mouth falls open, then she laughs. “I didn’t know you had it in you. Wow.” She smiles. “And he bought it?”

  I don’t know why she thinks it’s so great. I feel terrible about it, but I nod.

  “That’s awesome,” she says. “You bested the CEO.”

  I frown. “But don’t you see, Em? I’m the one who sought him out. I tracked him down, found out he owns this consulting firm, applied for a job, got the job, and once he showed the slightest interest in me, I practically threw myself at him.”

  “So what? Are you saying it’s your fault that he took advantage of his employee? He’s the CEO. If he can’t control himself around you, that’s not your fault.”

  “Do you really think so?” Her words make me feel a little better, like maybe I’m not so awful for saying what I did.

  “I know so, Ash. That’s the way it works.” She looks at me intently. “Are you really going to keep working for him now?”

  “Yes,” I immediately reply. That’s not even a question.

  “Why? What is it about this guy that you love, huh?”

  My gaze goes to the TV as I try to come up with a way to explain the way I feel, then I turn to Emily with a smile. “It’s hard to explain, Em. There’s something about him that draws me to him like a bee to honey.” I giggle. I never thought I’d use that saying in reference to myself.

  Emily rolls her eyes. “That doesn’t tell me a dang thing, bee-girl.” She smirks. “That’s my new nickname for you. I’ll call you Bee.”

  I gently swat her arm. “Don’t you dare.”

  She grins. “So why else do you think you love him?”

  I pause as I gather my thoughts. “Well, when we were at his cabin he took me on his snowmobile and we rode up to this ridge that overlooked the valley below. The view was incredible.” I smile at her. “I don’t know, Em. It’s like, as he stood next to me with his arm around my shoulders, I just felt this . . . connection.” I frown. “It’s hard to explain.”

  “Okay. I guess I’m sort of getting it. I can see that you really seem to feel something for this guy.”

  My lips curve into a smile. “Plus he’s so hot.”

  “Oh, really?” Emily’s lips purse, like she doesn’t know if she believes me. “Do you have a picture?”

  “No.” Then after a second. “Wait, yes. There’s a picture of him on his company’s website.”

  “Let’s see.”

  I take my laptop out of its bag, boot it up, and a moment later we’re looking at Drake’s official photo on his company’s website. I glance at Emily to see her reaction.

  She leans forward, her gaze glued to Drake’s face. “Does he have a brother?”

  I laugh. “Told ya.”

  “Just ‘cause he’s hot, that doesn’t mean he’s right for you, Ash.” She drags her gaze away from Drake to look at me.

  “I know that,” I say, annoyed. But I’m only annoyed because she speaks the truth. It’s just truth that I don’t want to hear.

  “Well,” she says, “after what happened today, don’t you think it will be even weirder than it was before?”

  “Maybe. But if I quit, he’ll forget about me. I can’t allow that to happen.” I smile. “Besides, I really like my job.”

  She frowns. “It’s your funeral.”

  Twenty-Five

  DRAKE

  As I sit in my bed, unable to move, unable to process what I’ve just done, I berate myself for my indiscretion. Did I really just take complete advantage of Ashley? My assistant? How could I do that? What kind of man am I? Then my mind tells me exactly what kind of man I am.

  A man who’s really attracted to the woman he met in the most unlikeliest of places. On the side of the road by his weekend cabin.

  I remember how I almost ran her over as she flagged me down in the middle of a blizzard, how she hurt her ankle when she threw herself out of the way of my truck, how I brought her to my cabin to care for her.

  When I think about all the playing we did, all the flirting, I smile. There are so many things about her that I like, but then I frown.

  You can’t have her. You blew it big time. You told her you have no interest in a relationship and she believed you.

  I think about the whole pretend-housekeeper thing. I’d been having a good time with Ashley—finally able to relax and forget about work for a little while—when Rachel had shown up. That had been awkward, but Ashley had been a good sport and had agreed to pl
ay along and pretend to be my housekeeper. Rachel had even seemed to buy it.

  I chuckle as I think about how well Ashley had played the part. My laughter turns to an angry scowl when I recall how Ashley had forced my hand and basically told Rachel that I’d slept with her.

  I’d been so pissed, but by the time I’d dropped Ashley off to pick up her car, I’d gotten over it. It seems silly now, but I’d even brought the copy of Lord of the Rings to Reno with me—a copy that she’d been reading—in the hopes that I would run into her and I could let her borrow it.

  I’d been more than surprised when she’d shown up in my office for an interview to be my assistant. Of course I’d hired her. When I’d looked into her earnest face, there was no way I could turn her away. Plus, I liked the idea of seeing her every day, even if it was in a more official capacity.

  I’d told her that if she worked for me she would have to forget about our time at the cabin, but in reality I can’t forget. Especially the way she pulled me out of myself and helped me remember how to have fun, how to be lighthearted. There’s something about that woman that I can’t resist, and if I’m honest with myself, I want to have her in my life. Maybe even as more than my assistant.

  My hands fist in my sheets as I think about our conversation from just a short while ago. She’d asked if I would date her if she wasn’t working for me and I’d said I would, but I’d made it clear that it probably wouldn’t last.

  You’re such an idiot. You know you want her. What are you so afraid of?

  I frown, angry at myself for letting my fears stop me from really giving myself—all of myself—to a woman. I think of Rachel and know I’ve only allowed her to see the serious part of me. Ashley, on the other hand, has seen my fun side, as well as my serious side—and she didn’t run screaming from the room. Yes, she said she’d rather work for me than date me, but at least she’s sticking around.

  I punch the bed, then throw back the covers and go into the bathroom to take a cold shower.

  I need to think about something besides Ashley Spencer.

  Twenty-Six

  ASHLEY

  When I get to work the next morning, Drake isn’t in his office. Half disappointed, but half relieved that I don’t have to face him just yet, I log in to my computer. There’s an email from Drake saying he’ll be working from home that morning while the tile layers grout the tile, but he’ll come in when they’re done.

  Knowing I have a brief reprieve before I have to face him, I start working on my task list. When Drake arrives after lunch, he stops by my desk, which startles me. I’d almost expected him to ignore me.

  “Good afternoon, Ms. Spencer,” he says, his smile tight.

  I look up at him and nearly catch my breath. He’s not wearing a tie today and he looks especially hot with the top button of his shirt undone under his grey suit. “Hello, Mr. Drake. So the tiles are done?”

  “Yes.”

  “I confirmed your one thirty meeting and double-checked your slide-deck. Everything should be ready to go.”

  “Great.” Then he nods once and walks towards his office.

  I watch him go and recall the conversation I had with Emily the day before, then wonder if I did the right thing by convincing Drake to keep me as his assistant.

  “There’s a delivery for you, Ashley,” a soft voice says next to me a moment later, interrupting my thoughts.

  I turn to see Mindy, the receptionist, holding out a vase of beautiful flowers.

  Are these from Drake? As an apology? I’m surprised, but pleased, by his thoughtfulness—or maybe it’s guilt? “Thank you,” I say as I take the vase from Mindy. After she walks away I tug the card out of its holder and rip it open, eager to see what Drake said.

  Ashley - Just wanted you to know that I’m thinking about you. Jonathan.

  Thoughts swirl within me. It’s not from Drake. Of course not. He told me to forget about what happened. Why would he remind me by sending me flowers? Especially where my co-workers can see them. Dumb, Ash.

  I frown. But why is Jonathan sending me flowers? Does he really like me that much? How do I feel about him? I think about the fun we had when we went dancing the previous Friday night, and how Drake had been jealous of Jonathan holding me so possessively.

  Even though I kind of like that Drake was jealous—but only because it means he desires me—I wonder if his feelings could lead to him finding an excuse to fire me so that he won’t have to see me every day. Panic that Drake mustn’t know that Jonathan sent me flowers pours over me, and I jump out of my seat, then pick up the vase.

  Frantically looking around for a place to dispose of them, I slowly spin in a circle, but stop when I see Drake walking out of his office. His gaze goes directly to the lovely flower arrangement I hold in my hands, then he looks at me.

  His jaw clenches once, then he smiles and walks towards me. “Those are beautiful.” The smile withers on his face. “From Jonathan, I presume?”

  He remembers his name. “Uh, yeah.”

  “How very thoughtful of him.”

  “Mmm hmm,” I say.

  “Better keep them in water,” he murmurs, then turns and stalks away.

  My shoulders slump in defeat. At least I tried to hide them from him. I just wasn’t fast enough. I set the vase on my desk, then work until it’s time to set up the conference room.

  During the meeting, I work hard to stay focused on my job, but at least twice I catch Drake staring at me. Before yesterday I would have been thrilled by his interest, but now I’m terrified that he’s going to find my presence intolerable and then fire me.

  Drake seems a bit out of sorts during the call, like he’s not focused on the conversation—very unDrake-like. When the meeting wraps up, he quickly exits the conference room.

  “What’s his problem?” one of the conference attendees from our office asks the man sitting next to him.

  The other man shrugs, and I concentrate on typing my notes, pretending like I don’t know what’s going on. Back at my desk I work steadily until it’s time to go home, worrying all the while about Drake. When five o’clock arrives, I decide to talk to him. The stress I’ve felt all afternoon, worrying about what he is thinking, is intolerable.

  His office door is closed, so I gently knock.

  “Come in,” he says.

  I open the door and see him standing in front of his floor to ceiling windows, looking at the view.

  “Drake?” I say, my voice tentative.

  He turns around and meets my gaze.

  Torment shows in his eyes, and fresh guilt flows over me in waves because I know I’m the cause of his anguish. The words I threw in his face twenty-four hours earlier were enough to cause him to call himself a selfish lowlife. Maybe he is sometimes—he’d made me pretend to be his housekeeper to keep our relationship secret from Rachel, after all. But deep inside I believe he is a good man.

  “Ashley,” he says, the torment replaced with cool confidence. “What’s up?”

  I’m worried you’re going to fire me and I can’t take it anymore. “Uh,” I stammer, wanting to ask him how he really feels, but afraid to bring up our outside relationship since I promised I wouldn’t speak of it.

  His gaze is steady on mine.

  “Is everything okay?” I finally ask as I sit, my voice soft. “I mean, you seemed distracted in that meeting today.”

  He stares at me for several long moments, then his eyes go cold. “Why the hell do you think you have the right to ask me that?”

  My eyes widen in shock.

  “We’re not friends, Ms. Spencer. I am your employer. Nothing more. Never forget that.”

  Blood rushes to my face and I feel like I’ve been sucker-punched. I know we’re supposed to pretend yesterday afternoon—and the cabin—never happened, but after the tenderness he’s shown me so many times, I never expected him to treat me like this.

  Hold on, Ashley-girl. Did you already forget that he didn’t seem to have any trouble treating you like you
really were his housekeeper? I frown, remembering how angry I’d been when he’d dismissed me after I’d made lunch for him and The Witch, then sent me to my room for hours so The Witch wouldn’t have to see me.

  I remember how hurt I’d been when he’d hurried me out of his house the morning after we’d first made love. “No, Drake,” I say now, my anger bubbling inside me like a geyser that’s been waiting to erupt. “No. You’re not my employer.”

  He stares at me, like he’s not sure if he heard me right. “What?”

  “I quit, you son of a bitch.” I stay seated long enough to see the stunned expression register on his face, though it’s quickly replaced by a clenched jaw, then I practically leap from my chair before turning away from Drake and heading towards his office door.

  He doesn’t call after me and he doesn’t try to stop me as I gather my things—including the vase of beautiful flowers—and moments later I walk out the door of Drake Consulting.

  When I reach my car, I set the vase on the ground next to the door, then dig in my purse to find my keys and realize my hands are shaking.

  Twenty-Seven

  DRAKE

  What the hell just happened? My heart pounds as my thoughts race. One moment I was standing in front of my office window trying to figure out what to do about the woman who’s been plaguing my every waking moment—and my dreams as well. The next, that very woman walks in, and with a sweet and caring expression on her face she asks me if everything is okay. And what do I do? I practically bite her head off. What is wrong with me?

  Then I realize exactly what’s wrong with me. Rather than admit to her that she’s been on my mind so much that I’m having trouble doing my job—the reason for my existence up until now—I said terrible things to her.

  I’d only meant to put her in her place, to keep her out of my heart, to let her know that there can be no future for us. I’d never meant for her to quit.