I think that maybe if you just asked her what was wrong and found out, maybe I could fix it. Because I fucking miss her.
I never really understood how much until yesterday evening when everyone was leaving work and I looked back on the day and realized how many times I was probably making a fool of myself by trying to talk to her.
And every time she gave me a look that started out with anger, then betrayal, then almost as if looking at me was too much she flounced away.
I mean, I don't usually go get coffee from the employee breakroom. I'm the owner of this place. I like to leave the peons with a place to congregate and think they have some control.
I went in there about nine times yesterday.
Each time I went in it was the same deal. Ashley was in there and she got quiet when she saw me. Her eyes looked at me like she absolutely hated me. Like the first day we met in the elevator. Then she looked like she was going to cry. And then to maybe keep me from seeing it, she ran out of the room, making some excuse.
I'm starting to think that something is very, very wrong.
And I'm going to ask her, right now.
We're in the employee briefing area—the same place they set up a podium for me to announce that I had just bought the magazine.
God, life was so much easier before I even met Ashley, wasn't it?
Maybe it was easier...but it wasn't happier.
That's why right now I'm walking around the room to Ashley.
She sees me approach and looks around her. She's next to that brunette. What's her name? Natalie, I think. She doesn't seem to notice me, looking at something on her phone. But Ashley's eyes go wide as I approach. She quickly looks left and then right, and I can tell she's wondering if there's any place she can run.
But there isn't. And if I'm going to have to do this in public, then fuck it. She's that important. I walk the last step toward her and lean in.
She's trembling in...fear?
I have this odd sensation to just yell BOO! and make her jump.
But that would just end badly for all of us.
Instead I whisper as discreetly as possible in her ear, "Ashley, what's going on?" I ask.
She rolls her eyes at me, but other than that stays silent.
"You've been avoiding me and I want to know why," I demand, but it's hard to demand when you're also having to whisper. "If it was something I did I want to know. You know that when you do things I don't like I tell you. It's called being honest with each other."
As I say the word 'honest' she darts her head toward me and her eyes flash in anger.
But I can see her try to control herself.
Finally she speaks.
"Let's talk after the briefing," she says simply, trying to make it sound as if that will explain everything.
I shrug. Whatever, I'm willing to do that. Besides, the room has pretty much filled up with people and a few of them are starting to stare at us. I'm not worried about them. If I choose Ashley as the woman to stand next to me, I expect them to fall in line. But I don't want her to get singled out any more than she's been, so I take a step away and head to the podium.
"Thank you for coming, everyone," I say and look toward the dais that has some of my notes. But, unlike the first time I stood here and addressed this group, I don't really need the notes this time.
No, I have them prepared, but I think I can talk pretty much from the heart.
"This magazine used to be great at one point," I tell the crowd and they begin to nod. "But sadly, it's not great now."
There are some gasps and I can see Ashley staring straight at me. She's waiting for something. But what?
Does she know?