Page 17 of Ashley
Wendy pouted. "You're hopeless. I need to live through you. I'm an old woman over here."
Ashley rolled her eyes at her. "You're barely fifty."
"Yeah and I like to be in bed by 9:00, non-negotiable. How am I supposed to have a hot night when that's my life?"
"Online dating?" Ashley tried with a laugh, and Wendy smacked her arm.
"No way, that would be worse. Meeting a stranger and just trying to find something to talk about? No, thank you." Wendy shuddered and earned a bemused expression from Ashley.
"But I'm supposed to do that?"
"I thought we covered this, Ash. You're young and gorgeous, in the prime of your youth, so the answer is yes. Yes, you are supposed to go out there and have cringey first dates for me. Don't let me down, kid."
Ashley hummed. "I'll see what I can do on the matter."
Wendy held her hands up as she skipped away. "That's all I ask, doll."
"That's all that you ask?" Ashley's hands went to her hips. "Are you forgetting the part where you want me to design fantastic costumes for you?"
"Fine, I ask two things of you. Do them for me, yes?"
"Yes," Ashley relented.
"Perf! You're the best. I expect to hear a full report on your misadventures in romance, later this week," Wendy called out to her before she vanished off to answer her assistant's question.
Ashley laughed, waving at her friend, and then turned back to her design table with a sigh. She had a lot of work to do and not much time to do it, which meant there was very little time to go on a reckless and potentially awkward date like Wendy wanted her to do.Unless you go withJames, a voice whispered to her, and she shook her head at herself. She couldn't be thinking that. She'd lost too much sleep fantasizing about the man's rugged beauty. Now was the not the time to fall down the James rabbit hole when she had a full day of work ahead of her. Ducking her head, Ashley reached for her materials and set about laying out what she needed for the first fittings of the day. The dancers would be here any second, and she didn't want to keep them waiting. There was nothing worse than a room full of impatient dancers eager to go through their paces. It made them squirmy and the fittings nearly impossible. By the time the first dancer arrived ten minutes later, Ashley was able to focus and then, by the time she had completed her second and third fittings, she was more in control of herself, more so by the fifth and sixth and downright in control of her thoughts by the eighth. When she emerged for a break at lunch time, the hall was a bustling center of work with dancers, props masters, and lighting crew all hurrying past one another. It made Ashley happy to see the activity and she was in the best mood she could remember by far when she took her lunch. She had just snagged a bottle of water when her phone went off with a text message. Ashley pulled her phone out of her pocket and nearly choked on her first swallow of water when she saw the message waiting for her.
Good morning, sunshine.
It was from James. Wiping at her mouth, Ashley opened the message and stared at it. In all her mooning over the man, she hadn't thought of what to do when and if James messaged her first.
Little one?
Her fingers tightened on the water bottle so much that water spilled over the edges and splattered on the floor, startling nearby dancers warming up.
"Sorry, sorry," she mumbled when they gave her less than pleased looks. Depositing her water bottle on the table beside her, she opened the text message for a moment before she trusted herself to respond.
Good morning! How are you?
She sighed when she hit send. It was so generic, which was safe, but it also kept her so far away from the question of asking when she could see him again that she hated it. For too long, Ashley had been safe. Her text message served as more proof of the matter.
I'm good. Thank you for asking. Are you at Natasha's?
No. I had to go back home.
And home is good?
She bit her lip at the unasked question of how she was, which she knew James was curious about. He wanted to know howshewas, not her actual home, though given her living situation, she wouldn't dare tell him about home, even if he had asked her.
Home is good.
The little bubbles letting her know James was typing appeared for a moment and then disappeared, and everything around Ashley disappeared as she waited for his text.
Just good? What is it?
She sighed at herself. He saw right through her quick little response.
I'm fine, James. I promise.
