Drake and Ashley: The Complete Story

by Noelle Stevens

  I sit up straighter. “Precisely.”

  Clearly confused, his eyebrows go up.

  “That’s the whole idea,” I say, my voice filled with enthusiasm. “I’ve been your assistant, so I know exactly what kind of help you need. I’ll be your assistant tonight. I can do whatever you need me to do, and then you can finish that much sooner. Let’s start with dinner. I can get us something to eat.” I barely pause. “Don’t you think that’s a great idea?”

  “That’s very thoughtful, Ashley,” he says, then he chuckles. “But I thought we agreed your days of being my assistant were over.”

  I wave my hand like that’s a tiny nuisance we don’t need to consider. “It’s just this once. And it’s not like you’d be paying me or anything.”

  I hear a sound in the hall outside Drake’s office, and then a feminine voice says, “I’m sorry it took so long, Mr. Drake.”

  I turn towards the door and see a stunning blonde woman holding what I can only assume are bags of food, based on the heavenly scent that wafts out.

  “They were really busy tonight,” the woman says, her eyes going from Drake to me, and back to Drake.

  “That’s okay, Jasmine,” Drake says, then he gestures to a small conference table in the corner. “You can put it over there.”

  I can’t stop staring at the woman. There’s something very familiar about her, although I can’t put my finger on it. My guess is she’s a few years older than me, and I can’t help but admire her fantastic figure, especially with the way her stylish clothes hang on her.

  She carefully unpacks the food, setting two steaming containers on the table, then places napkins and utensils beside them before turning back to Drake. “I’ll just grab some water from the break room.”

  “Hold on, Jasmine,” Drake says.

  She and I both turn to face him, and I think he looks slightly nervous.

  “Yes?” she asks.

  “I’d like you to meet my . . . uh . . . my girlfriend. Ashley.” Drake’s eyes go to me and he smiles. It’s a genuine smile, and it warms me.

  I smile back, then stand and face Jasmine, who walks towards me with her hand held out.

  “It’s so nice to meet you,” she says.

  I briefly shake her hand as I force a smile onto my mouth. “So, you’re Drake’s new assistant.”

  “Yes. This is my third day.”

  Drake never mentioned how beautiful she is. My forced smile grows. “And he’s having you work late already?” Then I glance at Drake, who looks distinctly uncomfortable, before meeting Jasmine’s gaze.

  “Yes. But it’s okay.” She laughs softly. “That’s my job, after all.”

  I wonder if she has any idea that I was once Drake’s assistant. Then I remember how that ended, and a bright flame of jealously flares inside me as I imagine the closeness with which he will work with this beautiful creature.

  I know why she looks familiar. She reminds of Rachel. AKA The Witch. Drake’s ex. She looks remarkably like her.

  This realization just adds another level of discomfort to this whole thing. For me at least. “Yes,” I say. “Of course it is.” I look at Drake and wonder why he picked this particular woman to be his assistant. Does he miss Rachel? Does he regret breaking it off with her? She’s so much more sophisticated than me. Self-doubt and insecurity run rampant through my mind.

  “Again, Ashley,” Drake is saying. “I’m sorry I have to work tonight. I’ll call you later, okay?”

  He’s dismissing me. Hurt, and feeling like I’m an unwanted intruder, I plaster a smile onto my mouth. “Yeah. Sure.” I turn to Jasmine. “It was nice meeting you.” Not.

  “You too.”

  Without looking at Drake again, I hold my head high as I leave his office. Punching the button for the elevator, I feel a twinge of regret for quitting my job as Drake’s assistant.

  Wait a minute, Ashley-girl. If you hadn’t quit, you and Drake would not be dating. Plus, you love your job.

  My self-talk does nothing to cool the heat of my jealousy towards Jasmine and the fact that she gets to spend each and every day—and evidently some evenings—with my man.

  That’s right. He’s your man. Not hers. Now, get over yourself.

  I ride the elevator to the first floor, my mind on ways to keep Drake’s thoughts on me when I’m not around.

  Fourteen

  DRAKE

  That wasn’t awkward at all.

  I’d dreaded introducing Ashley to Jasmine and I’d hoped to put it off as long as possible, so I’m less than thrilled that Ashley showed up unannounced.

  And now she’s pissed at you.

  Frowning, I walk to the table where Jasmine’s laid out our dinner, and gather my food before carrying it back to my desk. Jasmine’s gone to get water from the break room, which gives me a minute to think about how to smooth things over with Ashley.

  When she left, I could tell she wasn’t happy, and now it’s up to me to fix things.

  “Here you go, Mr. Drake,” Jasmine says as she deposits a cup of cold water on my desk.

  “Thanks.”

  Without me inviting her, she gets her plate of food and sets it on the desk across from me, then settles herself into a chair and begins eating.

  Wouldn’t this be a cozy sight if Ashley were to appear? I hold back a frown, fairly certain that Ashley won’t be coming back anytime soon.

  “I finished reviewing the first draft of the slide deck before I got the food,” Jasmine says, then she sips her water. “I found two typos and marked the places where I thought you might want to clarify.”

  “Okay, thanks.” A mix of irritation and admiration sweeps over me, but I can’t complain about her efficiency. I just wish she wasn’t so damn gorgeous. I hold back a laugh. Before Ashley, I never would have though that. Then I get angry with myself for being so concerned about Ashley’s opinion on the looks of my assistant. I hired Jasmine for her qualifications, not her beauty. Then why do you keep thinking about it?

  Subtly shaking my head, I ask Jasmine what in my presentation was unclear, and she launches into her explanation.

  ASHLEY

  When I get home, I’m happy to see that Emily is there. I need to talk to someone about this new wrinkle, and who better than my best friend?

  “Bee,” she says as she jumps up from the couch at my arrival. “How was your weekend?”

  Her use of my nickname is like an explanation point on my concerns about Drake, but I force my worries away for the moment. “Tell me about yours first. How was Lake Tahoe?”

  “Only fantastic.” She begins a detailed description of all the fun she had with Nick, which in contrast to my last few days, certainly does sound fantastic.

  “That’s great, Em.”

  She smiles. “How was your weekend?”

  My shoulders slump, then I fill her in on everything—the run-in with Evan at the dance club, Evan’s behavior at work, and my surprise encounter with Jasmine, the spitting image of The Witch.

  “Oh,” she says. “Wow. Sounds like things have been interesting.”

  “You could say that.” I sigh. “The thing with Evan is a little awkward, but my main concern is this chick who’s going to be working with Drake everyday.”

  “And some nights,” she helpfully adds. “Don’t forget that.”

  As if I could. “What should I do?”

  Her lips purse. “Hmmm. That’s a tough one. I mean, after you only lasted a week, I don’t think he’s likely to fire her when she’s barely started.”

  “Right.” I shake my head. “Wait. I’m not suggesting that he fire her.”

  “Maybe you should. You know, just to see what he says.”

  “What?”

  “You won’t mean it. It’s more like a test. Like, how much does he care about your feelings on the matter?”

  I groan. “Emily, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

  “Hey, my talking points worked out pretty well for you, so don’t dismiss this out of
hand.”

  She has me there. She was the one who’d come up with the idea that if Drake wanted to date me, he’d have to commit to being exclusive. She’d also suggested that Drake and I shouldn’t sleep together until we were seriously dating. He’d agreed to both talking points and everything had turned out just fine.

  Then a new thought hits me. “Emily, what if he’s regretting dating only me? What if he really wants to date other women too?”

  “Don’t be stupid. The man loves you.”

  I think about our interaction at his office that evening. He’d been happy enough to see me, although at first he’d seemed more uncomfortable than happy. “Yeah. I guess so.”

  Emily’s eyes narrow. “What do you mean you guess so? Just a week ago you said he told you he loves you. That’s not going to change just because he’s hired some hottie to be his assistant.”

  “Thanks for the pointing out that she’s hot.”

  “What? You’d prefer he hire a troll?” Emily stares at me a moment. “Of course you would. Well, since that’s not going to happen, you have to learn to live with reality.”

  I sit quietly for a minute, then an idea occurs to me. “I know. I’ll give him a picture of me to put on his desk. That way he’ll have no choice but to think of me once in a while while he’s at work.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Emily says. “I wish I’d thought of it.” She smiles. “But I still think you should try my idea. You know, tell him to get rid of the hottie.”

  I laugh. But inside, I’d like nothing better.

  Fifteen

  ASHLEY

  All evening I wait to hear from Drake, and just when I’ve given up, my phone rings.

  “Did you get everything done for your meeting?” I ask.

  “Yes I did.”

  I want to ask if Jasmine helped, but I can’t bring myself to acknowledge the fact that she spent the evening with him while I sat home alone. Well, Emily was here, but she spent the better part of the evening texting with Nick. “That’s good.”

  “I’m sorry about the way things went tonight,” he says.

  I’m not ready to let him off the hook that easily. “What do you mean?”

  Chuckling, he says, “I think you know what I mean.”

  “Oh, because you didn’t like my idea of being your assistant for one night?”

  “That’s part of it, and for the record, I liked the idea just fine.”

  “You just didn’t need me.” When I say the words out loud, it’s like a sharp needle piercing my heart.

  “Ashley,” he begins, but lets my name trail off.

  “What?”

  He sighs softly. “I always need you. Just not as my assistant.”

  An image of the gorgeous Jasmine fills my mind, and again I think how she looks so remarkably like Rachel. This bothers me greatly. Did he choose Jasmine because she reminds him of Rachel? Or is it all just a horrible coincidence? “Your new assistant certainly seemed on top of things.”

  “She’s doing okay.”

  I hear the pleasure in his voice and know he’s happy with the job Jasmine is doing. I know I should be glad, because that means his work life will be a little easier. But deep down—actually it’s extremely shallow—I want her to fail, and fail badly. Then he’ll have to fire her, and then he can get an old hag to take her place.

  I smile at the image of an old woman, fat and wrinkled, doing his bidding. Yes, that would suit me just fine.

  “I’d love to take you out to dinner tomorrow night,” he says.

  “Let me check my schedule,” I say, the hurt from being embarrassingly dismissed lingering. I pull the phone away from my ear and bring up the calendar app, then slowly scroll through my schedule for the next night. It’s completely empty. “Yeah,” I say a few moments later. “I think I can squeeze you in.”

  “Great. How about I pick you up at six thirty?”

  “Okay.”

  We chat for a few more minutes. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says. “I love you.”

  After talking to him, I’ve begun to soften towards him and I’m no longer mad. “I love you too, Drake.”

  The next day at work my day goes along smoothly until four o’clock when Donald stops by my cubicle.

  He tells me about a new client our firm is trying to sign. “I want you to use the presentation you gave last week as a starting point,” he begins, “but tailor it for this new client.” He smiles. “We have a meeting with them first thing in the morning, but I’m sure you can be ready by then.”

  I want to impress him. After all, he’s the CEO. “Of course.”

  “Great. Evan will get you up to speed.” He pats me on the shoulder. “You’re doing a great job here, Ashley.”

  His praise warms me and gives me confidence. “Thank you.”

  He nods once, then walks away.

  Great. Now I need to find Evan and ask for his help.

  I go to Evan’s cubicle, but he’s nowhere to be found. I leave a post-it note on his keyboard telling him I need to talk to him.

  By the time he shows up at my cube, it’s nearly five o’clock.

  “What’s up?” he asks as he leans against my desk.

  I tell him my assignment, and I’m not sure if it’s my imagination, but when it’s obvious this is completely work-related, he seems to develop an air of irritation. Like he thought I would talk to him about anything else? What a jerk.

  He seems to get himself under control, then he spends the next fifteen minutes giving me all the background information on the potential client. “I can stay late tonight and help you finesse your presentation,” he says with a smile.

  That’s when I remember my dinner date with Drake. He said he’d pick me up at six thirty, and I wonder if I can get out of here in time.

  “Okay,” I say. “I’ll work on it now. I’ll let you know as soon as I’m done.”

  “Sounds good.”

  I work steadily for the next forty-five minutes, but by the time I’m done, it’s past six. I text Drake and let him know I’m running late. He responds quickly.

  Drake: That’s fine. Just let me know when you’re ready and I’ll come pick you up.

  Glad nothing has come up for him, I hurry to Evan’s desk, eager to get this done so I can leave. But he’s not there. I look around, wanting to ask if anyone’s seen him, but most people have left for the night, which is what I want to do.

  Slowly spinning in a circle, I search for Evan. When he doesn’t appear, I make a circuit around the office, on the lookout for him. I check the time on my phone and watch the time tick away.

  Damn it, Evan. You’re probably doing this on purpose.

  I shake my head. I know I’m being ridiculous. There’s no way he knows I have a date with Drake tonight.

  I circle back to his desk and plant myself in his chair, determined to finish this presentation the moment he returns. Twelve and a half minutes later—I know the exact length of time because I’ve been watching the clock—Evan returns.

  “Hey, Ashley.”

  I jump up from his chair and face him. “About time.” My words come out sounding accusatory, but I don’t want to alienate him. Not right now at least. I add a soft chuckle to cover my irritation.

  “Have you been waiting for me?”

  Duh. I was in your seat. Idiot. I count to three, then say, “I finished the presentation and I need to get your feedback.”

  “Sure. I’d be happy to help. I just need to make a few tweaks to my presentation first.” He smiles lazily, like he has nowhere else to be—which he probably doesn’t. “Why don’t you set up the conference room and I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.”

  I want to throttle him, but instead I smile serenely before grabbing my laptop and heading to the conference room. I set everything up and queue up my presentation, then pull out my cell phone.

  Ashley: Hey, I should be done in half an hour or so.

  I hope I’m not being overly optimistic. Twenty minutes
later I’m drumming my fingers on the polished surface of the conference table and growing more annoyed by the second.

  My patience runs out and I walk to Evan’s desk to see what the hold up is. He’s away from his desk again.

  “What the hell?” I mutter as my gaze darts around the office.

  “Sorry,” Evan says when he shows up five minutes later. “Something I ate earlier didn’t agree with me.”

  As long as his stomach issues don’t interfere with finishing our work tonight, I don’t care about them. “I hope you’re feeling better now.”

  He grimaces. “Me too.”

  “I’m all set up in the conference room.”

  “Okay. Let me grab my laptop and I’ll meet you in there.”

  While I wait for Evan to join me, I check my phone to see if Drake’s replied to my earlier text. He hasn’t, and I wonder what he’s doing right then. It’s nearing seven o’clock.

  “Okay, let’s get this done,” Evan says as he slides into the chair across from me.

  Finally.

  “You go first,” he says as he opens his laptop.

  I run through my presentation, then wait for his assessment. He wants me to completely change one part, and I hold back a sigh as I nod. His suggestions are good and I know they will improve the presentation, but I just don’t want to take the time.

  My phone chimes a message, but I ignore it as I focus on making the changes. It takes some time, but when I’m finished, I show him what I’ve done and he approves.

  “Donald should be happy when he sees this,” he states.

  I close my laptop, ready to leave. “Great. I’ll see you in the morning then.”

  He gazes at me a moment, like he wants to say something, but then he nods. “Good night.”

  I walk swiftly to my desk, drop off my laptop, grab my purse, then head to the elevator. While I wait for the elevator to arrive, I pull out my phone and read the text that arrived earlier.

  Drake: I have a client emergency and have to leave town. Text me when you get this. Maybe we can see each other for a few minutes before I head out.