Ashton

You're so pretty, and smart. And talented.

  I read the text five times before I can even comprehend it.

  Oliver hasn't texted me much over the last couple of weeks. He'll usually call if he needs something or has a question about something to do with the project. Our interaction outside of the office has been fairly minimal. Thankfully. And especially since he told me about Tyson.

  This text is a shock.

  It's Friday night, the end of the third week. I'm half way through the project and everything has been going well. A meeting this week confirmed Oscar's uncle loves the website so far and all of the material I've designed so far. The promotional video is more than half complete. I left the office around 5P.M. today because I was caught up on work and was meeting my mom in Chesapeake for dinner, at 7P.M.

  It's just me and Mom, and has been since dad died when I was fifteen. She never dated again. She's been alone for ten years, so I try to visit or have dinner with her weekly. When I was a senior in high school, she had a mental breakdown. It was on the anniversary of my dad's death - three years - and she ended up in the hospital for a few weeks. It was such a hard time for me. For us both. She lives alone in the town I grew up in, in the same house that she moved into shortly after she married dad. I have tried to get her to sell the the house and move - maybe closer to me - but she refuses.

  I just pulled up to the restaurant she picked for tonight and was about to go in when this text from Oliver came in.

  I stare at it. I read it again. There no way this was meant for me, so I ignore it, even though it makes me feel all sorts of weird things. There's no way Oliver meant to text me those things. I should not be allowing my body to react the way it is, either, but I can't seem to help it.

  "This is a nice place," I tell my mom, as I pull out my chair to sit down, a few minutes later.

  She was already here when I walked in and the hostess brought me over to the table. She's already ordered her gin and tonic. Her face and eyes look tired and her graying hair is pulled back into a bun.

  "My friend Carla told me about it. I hope the steak is good," she answers. "How was work today?"

  I can't stop thinking about Oliver and that text message, but I force a smile at my mom.

  "Good. The home reno project is going really smoothly. They are loving my ideas and designs, which makes me feel good about it."

  "That's wonderful, honey." She nods and then sips her drink.

  Sometimes when I look at her now I remember those few weeks that she was in the hospital. I was eighteen. She was all I had and she wasn't doing well. It was so scary. The doctors said it was a psychotic break and she needed time to recover, mentally. After about a month and some new medication, she was back to her normal self. But now as I look at her, it's hard to believe she went through all that.

  I haven't told her about the company being owned by Tyson's family. My mom loved Tyson. She had him and I over for dinner at least once a week, while we were together. She called him her son. She thought he was perfect, just like I did. She was just as heartbroken when we broke up. It really affected her. I told her that he wasn't who I thought he was and that I needed to move on. She was mad at me. She thought I should have tried harder to fix whatever happened with us. I couldn't break her heart by telling her that she cheated on me. And then lied about it.

  "How's work for you?" I ask, knowing she'll want to talk about it. I could really use a drink, myself, but the server doesn't seem to be coming by.

  She's a nurse in a pediatric doctors' office. She's been working there for twenty years and it's the only thing that really got her through my dad's death. She took a few months off during that time when I was eighteen, but she's been back since she recovered. She loves being with the kids. I'm sure it's part of the reason why she won't sell the house and move.

  "Oh, it's good. Same as always. Busy." She pauses to sip her drink again. "Dr. Bauer is on vacation this week so Dr. Button had to take on extra patients. You know him, complains a lot, but it's all good," she smiles.

  We order our meals a few minutes later when the server - a tall, older man with glasses and a moustache - comes back to our table, and I order a glass of white wine. I sip it as we wait for food, and mom talks a bit more about her job. She shows me a picture of her dog, Barkley, hiding in a laundry basket. She asks how I'm holding up, with Christina being away. Spoiler alert - it's not great.

  My phone buzzes in my purse just as the waiter is bringing out our food, so I slip it out and check at it, since I don't want to pull my phone out again once we start to eat.

  Sorry. I'm sort of drunk. But I mean it, Ashton. U R so gorgeous.

  I choke on my drink as I read this next text. Oliver did mean to send that to me, and how he's sent another.

  "Are you alright ?" my mom asks right away, looking surprised. I cough again and drop my phone back into my purse. The server smiles as he places my chicken fajitas in front of me. They smell amazing and I'm glad for the distraction.

  "Yes, I'm fine, sorry," I say quickly to my mom.

  She nods and thanks the server before he walks away. 

  We don't talk much while we eat - because the food is delicious and we are both hungry - and mom insists on paying for my meal, as well, even though I argue.

  "You drove out here to meet me tonight, so I pay," she says and then laughs.

  I let her pay, but I tell her to let me pay next time.

  "Honestly, thanks for meeting me tonight. I needed this after a long week," my mom says into my ear, as she hugs me.

  It's almost 9pm and we both still have to drive a bit to get home. She's a bit under an hour south and I'm about thirty minutes east. I'm yawning as she steps away from the hug and I suddenly realize how tired I am. We're in the parking lot near her car and it's dark, but thankfully a warm evening.

  "Of course, Mom. Anytime," I tell her, and I mean it.

  "I love you, Ash."

  "Love you too, Mom. Drive safe."

  My drive home takes almost thirty minutes. I put the window down since it's still warm, for early September. I blast my music and sing along and try hard to forget about those texts from Oliver. The last thing I need right now is any sort of drama from him. I know how awkward it will be on Monday and I'm already dreading it. Why would he do this? He should know better, even if he is drinking tonight.

  When I pull into my parking lot, I see Christina's car. She left her car behind, of course. I see her car here, daily. But tonight my chest tightens and I get tears in my eyes as I pass it to go into our building.

  I'm in my bed with my cozy PJs on when I look at my phone again. I sort of wish I'd never given Oliver my cell number. Things felt fine up until now. Even last week when we he had a drink in my office and he told me about Tyson, things were okay after that. We didn't talk about it again. We only talked about work and his business, or we avoided each other. But now?

  Please be around to talk, I text Christina, crossing my fingers

  It buzzes right away. Out at a work dinner party with Ben. What's up?

  I know her and I know she'd find somewhere quiet to talk if I needed her. But I'm most definitely just being dramatic. This can wait til tomorrow.

  Me: Oh no worries. Have fun.

  Christina: You sure?

  Me: Yeah. All good. Call me tomorrow?

  Christina: Of course.

  I'm watching a movie on my laptop half an hour later, after I brushed my teeth and washed my face. I decided I'll go to the gym tomorrow and maybe even work on the Santos website a bit, from home. I like having a plan for the day and without Christina around, the weekends seem to drag on.

  Buzz.

  My phone is plugged in and laying on my bedside table. It's after 10P.M. so I almost ignore it, but decide to check it, in case it's important. It could very well be my mom. She's the only one who really texts me, besides my boss and Christina.

  Ohhh Ashton. U R ignoring me. I wish U were not ignoring me

  Shit. Oliver waited over an hour and texted again. Three drunk texts in the last three hours. I haven't replied to any of them, but he knows I have seen them. What the hell do I do?
My stomach is tumbling, like cartwheels and everything. My heart feels like it's trying to escape my chest. And my hands are sweaty. Oliver should not and can not be texting me while drunk. I should put him in his place. Yes, that's what I have to do.

  Me: Please stop texting me. It's not appropriate since I'm working for you.

  Oliver: U were hired to work for my uncle, technically.

  Me: Sure. But please stop.

  Oliver: Fine. I'm srry. Gnight

  I stare at my phone for ten minutes, now abandoning the movie that is still playing on my laptop. I asked him to stop and he did, so why do I feel like bad about it?

  Why in the world does it feel like I've hurt him in some way? This is my client. Yes, he happens to also be my ex-boyfriend's brother. Yes, I used to care about him. But everything has changed. His brother is dead and I have moved on. Oliver doesn't have any right to drunk text me and cause me to feel the way I do, now.

  And yet, here I am. My heart is racing. Everything feels wrong. Now I really just want the next three weeks to come and go so I can get back to normal.