Across Space and Time

CHAPTER TWO - KEEP THE CHANGE

I may not be the sweetest person on the planet, but I consider myself to have a decent moral compass and I generally try to treat people with respect. I won't go out of my way to be unpleasant, and I honestly don't try to get into arguments with people.

But I WILL call bullshit when I see it and that's exactly what I saw when I passed by the window of a hotel lobby on my way to work on Thursday when I saw Ashton sitting at the bar with his hand on some girl's thigh while he whispered god knows what into her ear.

Absolute bullshit.

I should have just kept walking to work and pretended I didn't see anything. I should have stayed in my own lane, scoffed to myself, and texted Grace about what I saw.

But then I thought of his wife and his daughter, and I thought about the lies he fed me about being single, and how when I found out he was married after we had been sleeping together for a few months, I initially felt so guilty, like it was my fault he was cheating.

I thought about how he told me he loved me so early on in our relationship and could see a real future with me, we're talking within three months. He told me that he had "a few things to take care of" before we could move in together. His apartment was "under construction" which is why we always ended up at mine.

Our relationship had more yellow flags than an NFL game, but when you're new to a city, working two jobs while applying to law school, and it's been awhile since you've gotten laid, sometimes you put your blinders on and ignore all gut instincts that tell you when a guy is hiding something.

I met Ashton when he was getting lunch with clients at the restaurant where I work during the week. The restaurant is located near Wall Street, and we have a full bar at lunchtime, so we are typically packed from 11-4 Monday through Friday.

I waited on his table and he was undeniably, albeit unprofessionally, flirting with me while he ordered drinks for the whole table. He tipped me $500 on a thousand dollar tab and slipped his business card into my receipt booklet before he left the restaurant.

Ashton Jefferies, Investment Broker

It was flattering. I mean, he was handsome and obviously successful, but I immediately tossed his card into the trash because there's absolutely no way in hell I would ever text a guy who gave me his number via a business card. Unless I legit want to talk to him about business, which I did not.

Ashton came back to the restaurant a few weeks later, this time alone and, I later found out from the hostess, he requested to sit at one of my tables.

"You never called me," he fired at me before I even greeted him.

"Yeah, I threw your card away," I said, pretty sure this would be the end of our conversation.

"You owe me $2.25 then. Those cards weren't cheap," he said, glancing at me over his menu.

I dug into my pocket, pulled out a wad of cash and shaved $3.00 off of the pile. I slammed it on the table in front of him.

"Keep the change," I told him with my sweetest smile plastered across my face. It was a ballsy move, and it could have backfired, but I had a feeling this guy could handle the banter. And if he couldn't, then it wasn't meant to be.

He sucked air in through his pursed lips before a smirk appeared. "So how does someone get you to call them?"

"Well, usually having a conversation with me first is a good start," I reply, while I fill his water glass.

"Ok, so let's have a conversation," he said, putting his menu down on the table.

Ashton was very convincing, wearing his expensive suit and expensive haircut like he walked off the pages of some Armani ad.