by J. J. Bella
It took a few days of adjustment to accustom herself to her old apartment, which seemed even tinier and cramped than it usually did after spending so much time at Scott's massive home. But she knew that this apartment was hers, and that however tiny it was, she earned it herself.
The day after she returned, she began looking for jobs in Berkeley, eventually settling on a bookkeeping position at the university. The pay wasn't great, but it was familiar and comfortable to be back on campus. After her first week, she began to settle into something like a routine, even making friends with some of the fellow employees her age.
Another couple of weeks passed, and Ashley found herself growing more and more accustomed to living on her own; the idea of dating even began to sound somewhat enticing. But thoughts of Scott continually slipped into the forefront of her mind, to her chagrin. As much as she simply wanted to move past the part of her life that he represented, she couldn't help but think about him, and the feelings that she had developed.
Then, one day at work, one of the fellow former students that worked in her building, a boyish, young man with chubby cheeks and a charming smile named Kyle, sat down with Ashley during their lunch break. It was an unseasonably warm day, and they decided to have their meals on the quad. They chatted, discussing their lives post-college, their shared anxiety about their futures now that they were in the world of adults, and other small-talk subjects. And as they talked, Ashley considered what it would be like to date someone like him, someone who was her own age, someone less established, someone who was at the same point in her life as her. She'd spent the last few weeks in the world of the Silicon Valley elite that the idea of being with a peer was far from unappealing.
As they finished their lunches, Kyle spoke as if reading her mind.
"So," he said. "What're you doing this weekend?"
His soft but handsome features squinted in the sunlight, his messy hair blowing gently in the afternoon breeze.
"Um," said Ashley, gripped by what he was likely about to ask. "I don't know; nothing, really."
"'Cause, there's a show tomorrow in Oakland that my friend's band is playing at, and I was wondering if you wanted to come with me," he said, his voice timid and unsure.
Ashley was conflicted. Kyle was a normal college boy, the type that someone like Ashley should be dating. But, try as she might, she couldn't get Scott out of her mind. Scott was mature, bold, and handsome in the way only an older man could be. As she sat next to Kyle, his expression eager as he awaited her answer, she realized that her heart just wasn't in it. She wanted Scott, but she'd made her decision.
I guess I just need to suck it up and get back out there, she thought, taking in a deep breath and preparing to accept his offer.
But before she could speak, a voice spoke from behind her. It was a familiar, voice manly and low.
"Sorry to interrupt," he said, "but I the girl you're speaking to is taken."
Ashley caught a glimpse of Kyle's eyes widening and looking up as she turned around in the direction of the voice. Looking up, she saw with joy that it was Scott, his usual wry smirk on his face.
"You're…you're taken?" asked Kyle.
"Engaged," said Scott.
Ashley smirked. "Yeah, what he said."
"Oh, OK," said Kyle. "Umm, nice talking to you, then."
With that, he hastily gathered the rest of his lunch and left the two alone.
"Good to see you," said Scott.
"Good to see you, too," said Ashley, realizing that despite the anger she'd been feeling towards Scott these last few weeks, he was happy to see him.
"Already getting back into the world of singles?" he asked, his eyes on Kyle as he scampered away.
"Gotta start somewhere," said Ashley.
A moment passed.
"So, what are you doing here?"
"I wanted to talk," said Scott, taking a seat on the bench next to her.
"Yeah?" asked Ashley. "I thought I told you that…whatever we had going on was done with."
"You did," said Scott. "And I was prepared to accept that. But I found out what happened between you and Mr. Welsh."
Ashley's eyes widened. "You did? How?"
"Let's just say that he had a reputation, and I walked in on him putting his pudgy hands all over the new assistant we hired."
"You're kidding," said Ashley, her voice low and serious.
"Nope. I asked him what the hell he was doing, and he assured me that the girls love it, that it's all part of the chase. I brought you up, and he said that you were one of his…more prudish attempted conquests."
"Oh my God," said Ashley, feeling sick to her stomach at the idea of Leonard putting his hands on another girl. "Then what?"
"Well, I kind of lost control, and I may or may not have hit him."
"Hit him?"
"Maybe."
In spite of how she knew she should've felt, Ashley was overjoyed. Not only for revenge for what he put her through, but for the fact that Scott was able to stand up for another girl before Leonard could do the same thing to her.
"And how'd he take it?" Ashley asked through a smile.
"About as well as one could hope."
"Deal's off, then?"
"Deal's off."
Ashley, a smile on her face, shook her head.
"Never thought I'd hear about you losing your cool like that."
"Happens to the best of us."
"And Michael? Is he out too?"
"Nope. Surprisingly, he's still on board. Figures that an old-fashioned guy like that wouldn't be down with serial sexual harassers."
Another moment of silence passed.
"And that wasn't the only reason that I wanted to talk to you."
"Oh?" asked Ashley, looking at Scott.
"I…know our arrangement was…unorthodox, even a little bizarre."
"To say the least."
Scott's mouth formed into a wry grin.
"To say the least. But I liked it. I was happy, for the first time in a long time. Even though our relationship was a sham, it meant more to mean than my time with Regina. Not since my marriage with Olivia's mother can I remember being so happy to be with a woman."
Ashley felt tears form in her eyes as he spoke.
"Ashley, you're smart, beautiful, driven- all of the qualities that I want in a woman. And I was a fool to let you go so easily."
"What're you saying?"
"I'm saying…that I love you. That I want to give what we had another shot. But for real this time. No pretend marriage, no shams. Just you, me, and Olivia."
Ashley's heart felt tight with joy. She realized that despite what she might've told herself over the last few weeks, these were the exact words she wanted to hear. The tears that she'd been holding back now pouring down her face, she threw her arms around Scott.
"Yes," she said, "I love you, too."
Then, Scott took her chin in his hand, looked deep into her eyes with his sparkling, blue eyes, and brought his lips to hers. Ashley let her body fall into the kiss, her heart soaring with joy and love, all that she wanted now sitting right there before her.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Months had passed and spring was finally arriving. The low chill of winter was fading from the air, and Ashley awoke ready to start her day. But when she placed her arm on the side of the bed where Scott slept, she felt nothing but a cool indentation.
Where on Earth is he? she thought, rising and stretching her limbs amid the sun streaming in through the bedroom window.
Ashley stepped into her slippers and left the bedroom, the smells of breakfast food cooking filling the air.
"Hi, Ash!" said Olivia, setting down her iPad and beaming a broad smile at Ashley as she walked in.
"Hey, kid," said Ashley, mussing her hair as she walked past her and to Scott.
Wrapping her arms around his waist, she planted a kiss on his cheek as he flipped a pair of pancakes on the griddle.
"My favorite," said Ashley, looking at t
he pancakes with a hungry eye.
"I know," said Scott, his smile warm.
In the months that had passed, Scott and Ashley not only made their status as a couple official, but their business partnership as well. Through weeks of negotiation, Scott and Ashley secured funding for his software venture, and the product was sold to a buyer for a sizable fee, in addition to royalties on future sales. With the money from his software secured, the two went into business together as fifty-fifty partners, branching out into a real estate firm that was now in the process of making investments in properties all over the city. With Scott's capital and negotiation skills, and Ashley's keen eye for finances, the two were already set to have a very, very profitable year.
Ashley moved back in, of course, and the previous two months had passed for the two of them like a blissful dream. Olivia was ecstatic, and she and Ashley continued to bond as they had before she moved. Scott was pleased to see Ashley be the female figure in Olivia's life that he knew she'd needed, and before too long, he began to think of the long-term plans for him and Ashley.
"So, any big Saturday plans?" asked Scott, piling the pancakes onto a plate and setting them in front of Olivia.
"I don't know; I was thinking about taking this one to the park, if you'd like to come."
"Sounds great to me," said Scott.
They ate their breakfast in perfect domestic bliss before finishing their morning routines. Soon, they were ready to head to the park. Once, there, the three took a long stroll along the coast, the Golden Gate Bridge large and grand in the distance, a wispy fog shrouding the land on the other side. Though the day was warmer than it had been, Ashley still held Scott close, her eyes closed in happiness as she leaned her head against his shoulder. Olive ran here and there, chasing the birds that landed on the sand, the gentle hush of the waves a calming sound to Ashley's ears. Scott's arm wrapped around her waist, Ashley took sweet delight in the joy she felt at the three of them being together.
Finally, after a time, Olivia approached the pair, a look of mild frustration on her face.
"Listen, Dad," she said, putting her hands on her hips. "Are you gonna do it or what? I mean look-"
She gestured to the Golden Gate Bridge, the calm waters of the bay, the cloudless blue sky above.
"- if you're waiting for a better time, I don't think you're gonna get one."
"Hmm?" asked Ashley, turning her head to Scott.
"I, ah," he said, his face reddening- an uncharacteristic mood for him. "Well, I was going to wait a bit, for the sun to go down some, but I suppose this is as good a time as any."
He reached into his jeans pocket, Ashley's heart beginning to race with glee as she realized what was about to happen.
"I can't think of a time that I've been happier than these last few months we've spent together. When you left, it only made me realize how much joy you'd brought to my life, and how I want nothing more than to share the rest of my life with you."
He slipped the small, black box from his pocket and opened it, revealing a gorgeous, shimmering diamond ring.
"Ashley Wilson," he said, his gorgeous blue eyes wide in anticipation. "Will you marry me?"
Ashley's eyes filled with tears and her hands shot to her lips. She was so overjoyed that she wasn't sure she could speak. But she managed the words.
"Of course!" she said, the tears streaming down her face as she threw her arms around Scott.
Ashley then opened her arm, bringing Olivia into the hug. Happiness overwhelmed the couple, both realizing that while the future was uncertain, there's nothing that either of them wanted more than to spend it at each other's side.
THE END
Sham
Chapter One
Brittany Haverford revved the espresso machine at Blue Line Coffee, one of the hippest coffee shops in Williamsburg, as the sun crept in from the May morning. Outside, Brooklyn-ites marched past with purpose, their eyes penetrating and dark, as they started squabbling on their phones, pre-emptively preparing for their long days at a marketing firm or the next start-up. The world seemed brimming with people who ached with arrogance and purpose. That is, everyone except for Brittany, whose career as a designer would hopefully take off after graduation—that is, if she could afford the next semester with only a job at a coffee shop.
“So, anyway, that’s how I got the start-up cranking,” the guy standing near the espresso machine continued, blaring his “magic” toward her and adjusting his large, hipster glasses. “We have our own beans, of course, but I prefer to come to Blue Line in the morning to get a hint of the city life, you know? Otherwise, I’m just stuck in my office all day and into the night. But what can I say? Gotta work hard to play hard.” He winked at her, causing a shiver of distaste to race down her spine.
Brittany passed the coffee to his outstretched hands, giving him a false, Barbie smile. Her waif-ish figure, large, brown eyes, and short blonde hair wasn’t particularly attractive, at least in her eyes, but she sensed that it was “just enough” for the hipster assholes who snuck in and out of Blue Line in the mornings, wanting to brag and measure their dicks, so to speak.
“I’m Carter, by the way,” the hipster continued, tossing his free hand forward to shake hers. A line had begun to form in front of the register, making Brittany feel anxious and strung-out.
“Um—Brittany,” she said, turning toward the register and flashing another half-assed smile. “I’m sorry—I have to—“
“Don’t worry about it,” Carter said, shrugging and taking a step back. “I can wait.”
Shit. Why couldn’t he catch a hint? Of course, these guys never quite understood she wasn’t interested. Her body language always gave them the impression that she was willing and open to their advances, often landing her with several opportunities for dates at the end of her shift. But Jesus, she’d given up on that nearly a year ago. At 23 years old, she felt she’d encountered everything this city had to offer, man-wise. They were child-like, doing anything they could to “win” women and get them into bed, and then ultimately abandoning them when they—God forbid—asked for anything like “commitment.”
Not that she had time for a boyfriend, anyway. Between work and school, she was absolutely swamped.
“Sure,” she stuttered, swiping her hands across her apron and heading back to another bespectacled man at the counter, who asked her for a scone and a cappuccino, to go, with a wink. It seemed the waves of flirtation would never end.
Tossing the scone into a white paper bag, she eyed her schoolbooks, awaiting her near the microwave. She had class later, and she still hadn’t stumbled through some of her homework, having had to close Blue Line the evening before. The bills were piling high on the crooked table in her apartment, a continual reminder that New York City was a weight on her shoulder that pressed harder with each passing day.
A ding sprung up from the toaster. She turned toward it, with a soft, “Shit!” and then snuck the two pieces of nearly burnt toast onto a plate, decorating them with a slathering of peanut butter and jelly. “NUMBER 25?” she cried out, watching as a middle-aged woman with thick-rimmed glasses trudged toward her, accepting the plate and taking an immediate, animalistic bite. Crumbs fell to the countertop below. Still, Carter the hipster waited on, tilting his weight from one foot to the other.
“Sorry,” Brittany piped to him, scrunching her nose. “We’re just pretty busy today, I guess.”
“No worries at all,” Carter boomed back, flashing a handsome smile.
I don’t have time for you! Brittany thought to herself, her nostrils flaring.
“Brittany! The line!” These words hailed from the back room, where the owner, Ian, was hunched over a computer, doing payroll. “If I can hear the grumbles from here, I know you’re not moving fast enough!”
Brittany’s eyes danced toward the door, awaiting the arrival of her always-late best friend, Sarah, who was meant to arrive to help her with the nine-thirty rush about ten minutes before. Not wanting to get Sa
rah in trouble, Brittany continued, her arms flailing like those of an octopus as she prepared flat whites, lattes, caramel macchiatos, and other sugary drinks for overworked New Yorkers. “We all need a nap,” were the words she wanted to say to them—tell them to return home, to stop the nine-to-five, to give up, if only so she could have a moment’s reprieve.
“All right, all right, I’m here!” Sarah cried out, racing into the fray and donning her apron, giving Brittany a soft tap on the back. “What do you need?”
“About fourteen cappuccinos and your head,” Brittany said, rolling her eyes. “Just once, could you come on time? Jesus.”
But her heart grew warm with the appearance of her friend, Sarah—a girl she’d met at designer school before she’d gotten Brittany the gig at Blue Line. “He wants artsy, cute girls,” Sarah had told Brittany of Ian, rolling her eyes. “And I think you take the cake on that one.”
Diligently, the girls got through the rest of the line, pushing out drink after drink, springing toast into the air and adding cheese spreads and tofu spreads and peanut butter spreads. Whatever the people wanted, they received. As she worked, Brittany felt her smile begin to sag, her legs ache with the weight of standing. Finally, after what seemed like a small infinity, the line petered out; Sarah and Brittany remained, gasping, turning toward one another with soft giggles.
“Another day, another grind,” Sarah said.
Like a ghoul, Carter’s face popped up in front of the register once more, his eyes bright and targeting Brittany. “Looks like the line’s down. Finally, am I right?”
Brittany’s heart sank. Sarah spun toward Carter, dropping between the two of them and crossing her arms. “My co-worker has to head back to prep about 400 cinnamon rolls. Can I help you with something?”
In a moment of panic, Brittany spun toward the back room, out of sight. Carter hummed and hawed before ordering another coffee to go and muttering something about “artisanal coffee, my ass.” The jangle of the bell, alerting the closing door, was the only reprieve Brittany had. She was free.
