by J. J. Bella
"Don't worry about it," said Scott. "Well, I think I'd like to bring you along. Your resume's great, like I said, and you are a familiar face."
Ashley's face brightened, the red replaced with a warm glow.
"Oh, that's so great to hear," said Ashley. "I can start whenever you need me to."
"One thing about that," said Scott. "As you've noticed, my job is my home. I do all my work here, and I'm always on the clock. I know you're a student, but I'd still need you available at odd hours. With that being said, this position would require you to move in here, temporarily, at least."
Scott watched Ashley's eyes widen in surprise.
"That shouldn't be a problem," said Ashley.
She definitely wasn't expecting that, thought Scott.
"Rent free, of course, which I'm sure works well for a student like you. You'd have your own bedroom, closet, bathroom- your own wing, more or less. It's just me and Olivia here, after all."
"Olivia?" asked Ashley, Scott catching her gaze darting down to his ring finger, clearly wondering if Olivia was a wife.
"My daughter; she's ten. I may need you to watch her from time to time. You'd be compensated for your time, of course."
"That's fine with me."
"Excellent," said Scott. "Then let's get started, shall we?"
Chapter Three
Of course he recognizes me, thought Ashley, her hands clenched into tight fists as she sat on the living room couch. Of course.
She was mortified as she thought about the girl she was back when she was friends with Regina, the girl she was when she met Scott. Gawky, self-conscious, easy swayed- a second-tier follower living in the shadow of Regina, a girl who, with her age and experience, seemed bigger than life. Ashley remembered how she felt when she met Scott, the charming, wealthy fiancé. She was envious at first, but soon accepted that girls like Regina and men like Scott just lived in a different world than her, that it actually made sense for people like them to get married, and the faster that Ashley realized this truth about how the world worked, the better off she'd be.
And, of course, there was the matter of the end of that engagement.
Forget about it for now, she thought. Just get through the interview. You can stress out about it later.
"Well," said Scott, setting his laptop on the coffee table, "shall we take a tour of your new home?"
New home, thought Ashley as her eyes scanned the enormous expanse of the living room, taking in the expensive art, the tasteful furniture, and the state-of-the-art electronics. Not to mention, the incredible view of the city through the floor-to-ceiling windows that composed the back walls.
"Of course," said Ashley, maintaining her professional demeanor in spite of the swirl of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.
Scott rose and spoke: "This is the living room, of course. Good a place to start the tour as any. Come this way."
He walked to the back end of the room, closer to the magnificent view. Ashley let out a small gasp as she approached, her eyes on the span of the city, to the left, the shimmering waters of the bay to the right, and the Golden Gate Bridge that peeked out through the buildings straight ahead. The house was situated on a hill in the exclusive Russian Hill area, one of the wealthiest parts of the city. Ashley's head swam as she tried to figure out how much a home like this in a neighborhood like this with a view like this might cost.
"Deck is out back," said Scott, gesturing to the sizable deck attached to the back of the house, a set of stairs leading down to the green expanse of the backyard. "We're up pretty high, so it's actually somewhat peaceful. I like to get most of my reading done out here."
"Mhmm," said Ashley, her eyes still on the view.
"Kitchen is this way," said Scott, stepping away from the back windows and heading down a curving hallway.
Ashley followed, and soon they were in a sleek, modern kitchen of stainless-steel appliances and granite surfaces. A large island was in the middle, and copper cookware hung on the wall. A small nook with French windows was in one corner.
"Help yourself to anything in here, and don't be shy about cooking. Maids come three times a week, so don't sweat about making a mess. Groceries are delivered every Monday, and if there's anything you want, just add it to the whiteboard on the fridge and I'll put it on the list."
"Sure," said Ashley, her voice small.
Scott led her back through the living room.
"Upstairs is, well, upstairs," said Scott, gesturing to the angular staircase of light-colored wood and sturdy black handrails. "That's where Olivia's room is, my bedroom, as well as a few spare rooms that I haven't quite figured out what to do with."
Spare rooms, thought Ashley. Quite a thing to have in one of the most expensive cities in the world.
"You'll be down this hallway," said Scott, pointing down the long hall lined with doors on both sides.
"More spare rooms," said Scott as they walked down the hall. "If you want to turn any of them into a study or anything like that, be my guest."
"Lot of space," said Ashley.
"Too much," said Scott, shaking his head. "I picked the place out with Regina back when we were still engaged. I was fine with the more…ah, modest choices we looked at, but she told me over and over, it's better to have extra space and not need it, than need it and not have it."
Ashley chuckled, thinking about how like Regina that was; always practical and future-thinking when it wasn’t her money she was spending.
"I've got a lot of work ahead of me, so I'll finish up this little tour with your bedroom."
"Are you having me start today?" asked Ashley.
"No, I figured you could have the day to ease in and get used to the place. Go ahead and relax, explore, and settle in. And don't forget to write me a list of the things you'd like to have brought over from your apartment. I'll be taking care of your old place’s rent while you're here, so feel free to have as much or little as you'd like brought over."
Covering rent just like that, thought Ashley. How much money is Scott worth, exactly?
"Anyway, here's your bedroom," said Scott, upon reaching a set of double doors at the end of the hallway.
He grasped the black knobs of the doors and pulled them open, revealing a spacious, yet cozy bedroom. The four-post bed in the middle was neatly made with soft-looking white blankets and a mound of stacked pillows on the far end. The floor was covered in cream-colored carpet. Two sets of French windows looked out onto the bay. A small vase filled with an arrangement of fall flowers was set on the nightstand. It was a lovely, homey little room.
"This work for you?" asked Scott.
"It's perfect," said Ashley, looking around the space.
"Great," said Scott. "Well, I'll leave you to it; I'm sure you've got classes today. My office is on the second floor, the first set of double doors on the right when you go up the stairs. I'm usually pretty deep into whatever I'm working on, so hit the buzzer rather than knock."
He stepped out of the room, but turned back around just after crossing the threshold.
"Oh, and welcome," he said, flashing a smile of flawless, white teeth, a pair of dimples forming on his slim checks.
With that, Ashley was alone.
Unemployed and on the verge of poverty to this, all over the span of a day, she thought, collapsing on the bed and sinking into the soft, plush sheets.
Ashley allowed herself to relax for a moment, knowing that it was nearly time for her to leave for her classes. Checking the time on her phone, she realized that if she was going to be living in the city, she was going to need to factor in a little more time for her commute. But before she could consider the issue for too long, her phone lit up with a text. It was from Scott.
Forgot to mention. I have a driver on call. I hardly use him, so feel free to have him drive you to and from campus. Also, keys to the house are by the front door.
This was followed by the number.
Driver on call? thought Ashley, relieved that sh
e wasn't going to have to deal with the public transportation from the city to Berkley, I could get used to this.
She dialed the number, called the driver, and within ten minutes another text displayed on her phone. It was the driver, letting her know he was out front. Ashley gathered her essentials and headed out the front door, where a silver, late-model Mercedes was parked, a trim, middle-aged man in a sharp black suit awaiting her.
"Good morning," said the driver in a professional voice. "Where to?"
Ashley smiled. I could definitely get used to this.
Her classes that day seemed to drag; all she wanted to do was get back to the house, explore her new home, and get started on the job. But as she sat in her Western Civ II course, listening to the stout, elderly woman drone on about Tudor England, she found her thoughts drifting towards Scott.
God, he's handsome, she thought, noticing that she was biting her lower lip as the image of his sculpted, gorgeous face appeared in her mind. But him and Regina…how that went down says a lot about what kind of guy he really is.
She remembered with striking clarity how Regina handled the breakup- the girl was a mess. Going from engaged to the wealthy, handsome man of her dreams to single and alone with the snap of a finger, she handled the loss as though she'd just had a close relation tragically and suddenly taken from her.
Asshole this, jerk that, Ashley thought, remembering the litany of curses that Regina spat out between wracking sobs, her mascara running down her high cheekbones, her red hair an unkempt mess. Ashley, as she thought a loyal friend should do, took Regina's side, believing every invective and accusation that came out of her mouth.
But looking back, Ashley realized that she couldn't remember the exact transgression that Scott had committed, only that he was a rogue beyond redemption, guilty of the greatest crime that Regina could imagine: making her unhappy. Ashley remembered considering this at the time, but decided against it, thinking her inquiries might be mistaken as lack of support for her friend in need. And when the pictures of Scott, ever the sought-after bachelor, appeared on the usual tabloid sites, arm-in-arm with one starlet or model or another, the gavel was slammed down, the verdict declared: Scott, as far as Regina was concerned, was a non-person.
On the way back, Ashley realized how little she knew about Regina and Scott. At the time, she was happy to simply take Regina's word on everything. But now that she was older and a little wiser, she'd learned that there were two sides to every story. What's more, Scott had been nothing but professional and accommodating. Could he really be the monster that Regina made him out to be?
Ashley slid the key into the front door and stepped inside. She assumed that she would be alone, but as soon as she stepped in, a pair of eyes fell upon her. Sitting on the living room couch, in the exact place where Ashley had been sitting for her interview only a few hours before, was a pretty, pre-teen girl with straight, striking blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and fair, flawless skin that almost seemed to glow- they were features that Ashley recognized at once. This girl could only be Olivia, Scott's daughter.
"Who are you?" the girl asked, placing the hardback book she was reading on the coffee table, her eyes locked onto Ashley.
"Oh, hi!" said Ashley, affecting her voice with as much enthusiasm as possible. "I'm Ashley Wilson, your dad’s new assistant."
Ashley strode over to the girl, her hand extended. But the girl didn't get up, and instead simply looked at Ashley's hand with an expression of mild confusion playing upon her charming features.
"Hello," said Olivia, her tone flat.
"It's…nice to meet you," said Ashley, now acutely aware of her hand hanging in the air, which she placed back at her side.
"Likewise," said the girl, turning her eyes back to the book, clearly more interested in it than with Ashley.
Ashley looked at the cover of the book, seeing that it was Frankenstein.
"Oh, that's a scary book," said Ashley. "I read it once in high school."
"Interesting," said Olivia, not interested at all.
Ashley stood for a moment, not sure of what to do with herself.
"Um, well, nice to meet you, like I said. If you want to talk or, um, play or anything, I'm in the room down the hall."
"Play," said Olivia, the word almost disgusting on her lips. "I'm almost a teenager; we don't play."
"Oh, OK!" said Ashley, her face turning bright red as she beelined out of the room.
Play? she thought, chastising herself as she strode down the hallway, wishing she was better with children.
Reaching the doors to her bedroom, she opened them, ducked in, and shut them behind her.
So much for a first impression, she thought, her eyes drifting to the bustling city through the bedroom windows.
Chapter Four
Looks like I made the right call bringing this girl on, thought Scott as he looked over the latest documents he had assigned to Ashley. A week in and not a single error; this girl's got a knack for this sort of thing.
Scrolling through the rest of the documents, Scott confirmed that the rest were in just as good of order as everything else that Ashley had turned in. Having brought her on with the initial intention of keeping his schedule straight, Ashley showed interest in the last few days in looking over his books. Eager for the extra help, Scott gave her access to his finances, and sure enough, within forty-eight hours, she'd streamlined information that was previously arranged in the haphazard manner that made perfect sense to him, but was all but nonsense to anyone else.
Scott pushed himself away from his desk and made himself a fresh cup of French roast in the Keurig he kept in his office. As the machine whirred, pouring a steady drip of hot, coal-black brew into his cup, he leaned against his desk and looked out onto the waters of the bay, the shimmering waves calming and clearing his mind, as they often did.
Still, the matter of her previous employer… he thought. Everything about her is on the level- great student, great employee; hell, she's even slowly getting Olivia to come out of her shell. What about her could possibly have resulted in terrible reference?
But before he could consider the question further, a soft chime sounded through his office, the lights dimming for a brief moment- it was the "buzzer" for his office.
"Come in!" he called out, taking the cup of coffee from the machine, the steam coiling around his face.
The door opened, and Ashley stepped in. Scott took a moment to consider her outfit. She was dressed in a simple white blouse that formed a neat outline along her slim upper body, though a hint of a flesh-colored bra could be spotted beneath it. Her slacks were gray and trim, curving downward along the shape of her thighs. Her hair was done up in the usual simple bun that she tended to wear it in, a few stray hairs dangling over the flawless skin of her forehead.
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.
