"Isn't it funny
how day by day,
nothing changes,
but when you look back,
everything
is different."
~ C. S. Lewis
On the Wednesday afternoon that followed, Scarlett took her seat in a chair in the second row of the room where Ace was due to head the panel in ten minutes.
She brushed off her surprise rendezvous with Terrence Burke, who thanked her for the insight she had given him on Ace's proposal. She brushed off how he had mentioned that tomorrow, she would get to see the light drain from Ace's face, as well. She removed from her mind that he was her actual employer and not Ace.
She emptied her mind of everything other than her ability to support Ace at that moment.
Ace entered the room with the other panelists and saw her seated near the stage, dressed in a red pantsuit, making it even harder to miss her in a crowd of people dressed in drab colours. He gave her a surprised smile. Scarlett returned that smile of hers that told him that everything in the world would be quite alright.
Slowly, the room filled with people and the panel began their discussion.
After a few minutes of introduction, Ace stood up and began his presentation.
Scarlett looked around as he was speaking and realized that he commanded the attention of the room so easily; everyone had stopped their conversations and was listening to him intently.
They listened to him with rapt attention, almost like they didn't know what else they could possibly be doing at that point in time.
The rest of the panel were all clearly older than Ace and probably had over a decade of experience on him, but even they looked at him with a sort of admiration at the intelligent manner with which he addressed the gathering.
Scarlett took down notes that interested her and make note of questions she wanted to ask.
When her eye caught the notes of the person next to her, she realized that Ace had not explained the intricacies of the topic of micro-markets well enough for everyone to understand the importance of the subject matter.
When Ace finally finished his presentation and opened the floor up for questions, despite the fact that she had seen his notes and gone over the things he would say with him, she stood up and asked him a question about micro-markets.
Ace stared at her for a moment, in his head, wondering why Scarlett was asking him a question, to which she knew the answer to. He then, realized that she only did it to ensure that he was able to reiterate and better explain the main point of his whole presentation.
Someone inside him swelled with gratitude and he smiled at her, before going on to explain the topic again. He realized that in doing so, he was able to reach more people in the audience.
Once he took his seat, he caught Scarlett's eye and mouthed to her, "Thank you."
Scarlett smiled her charming smile and shrugged, like it was nothing.
The day's proceedings ended with that discussion panel and Scarlett slipped out of the room to get herself some refreshments. Ace was approached by a throng of people to commend him and ask him even more questions.
Scarlett watched him answer questions in a gracious way, but knew that he wanted nothing better than to slip away into the comfort of his own room. She waited, leaning against the doorframe to the hall, watching at the crowd dwindled. Slowly, one by one, people left the room and finally, Ace was able to leave about forty-five minutes after the discussion had ended.
He walked up to Scarlett, rubbing a temple with two of his fingers.
"I saved you some cookies," Scarlett held out three cookies wrapped in a tissue to him.
Ace sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Thank you, Ambrose."
He took one cookie and ate it whole.
Scarlett watched him roll his shoulders as he chewed, clearly tired out from the day.
"Are you going to turn in?" she asked, as they began walking in the direction of the elevators.
Ace sighed, tiredly and shook his head. "I guess I should go for dinner with these people. You can have whatever you like, Ambrose."
Scarlett nodded. Ever since the fellowship dinner on Sunday, Ace hadn't joined Scarlett for dinner and had always spent his time with the various businesspeople at the conference. The entire hotel seemed to be overrun with businesspeople from all parts of the globe.
Ace nodded to her and walked into his own room without another word.
Inside her own room, Scarlett let the pins out of her hair and thought.
She picked up her phone and ordered room service.
After that, she walked out of her own room and knocked on Ace's door.
It opened promptly and Ace stood there, his suit jacket discarded, tie removed, top button undone and sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He looked at her expectantly.
Scarlett pushed past him and walked into the room. "You and I are having dinner here," she informed him.
Ace hesitated and then shut the door. "What?"
"You clearly don't want to be in the company of all of these people and you're obviously tired. Tomorrow is a big day for you, so tonight, you stay right here, have dinner and relax," she said, decidedly, standing in his room and crossing her arms over her chest.
Ace's eyebrows raised. "Are you commanding me, Ambrose?"
She nodded. "You don't really enjoy having dinner with most of these people, so you might as well just stay here because you and I both know that you enjoy my company."
Ace chuckled, softly. "What makes you think that?" he asked, walking towards her.
"Whenever you come back from spending a networking hour with them, there's always a crease between your eyebrows. It's like you almost want to torture yourself by subjecting yourself to their company. Not tonight. You have a big launch tomorrow, so we're not aggravating ourselves tonight," Scarlett watched his face as he came towards her. "And, you don't really get that crease when you're in the company of yours truly." Scarlett's tone was teasing.
Ace had, on his face, that strange smile of his. Slowly, he sighed. "Thank you, Ambrose," he said, almost in a whisper, "I would have made myself sit through another dinner with them, if you hadn't said that."
Scarlett nodded, like she was telling him that she was right.
They stood in the room, facing each other, about a foot apart.
Ace broke their silence. "Thank you for asking that question today, Ambrose. It really helped me to drive my point home."
"I'm glad I could be of assistance. It was a good presentation. I learnt a lot, actually. I even wrote down some questions that I wanted to ask you," she said.
Ace nodded. "If you don't mind, I'll answer all those questions when we're back home," he exhaled, "I think my brain is mush at the moment."
Scarlett giggled. "Oh, yeah. Don't worry about it. I'll just bug you about them later."
Ace gave her a small, slow, lopsided smile. "You do seem to have learnt a lot, actually. I could tell from the conversations we've had over breakfast. You've done very well this week."
Scarlett bounced on the balls of her feet, gently, with a big smile. "Really?"
Ace nodded. "You've been conversing well, asking intelligent questions. You've been learning. I'm proud of you, Ambrose."
Scarlett stopped moving. Her red lips parted. She looked up at Ace, her whole expression changing. He wondered if he had said something wrong. Before he could ask, he saw Scarlett's eyes shining as tears pooled in them.
"Oh," he breathed, "I'm sor –"
His words were cut off by Scarlett stepping forward and putting her arms around him. She sighed heavily, leaning against his chest. Despite his confusion, Ace tentatively lifted his arms and wrapped them around her, as he was engulfed in the light scent of vanilla around Scarlett.
Scarlett's torso twitched every time she let out a shaky breath, tears falling and dampening the front of Ace's shirt.
A few moments later, Scarlett withdrew her arms and stepped back shaking her lowered head. "I'm sorry," she sighed in a soft voice, dragging the back of her hand across her face. "I didn't mean to. It's just that no one really says that to me. Sure, Grace does, but I feel like she only does it to be nice or give me a boost sometimes, but now, coming from you," she gestured to him, not meeting his eye.
Ace took a small step forward and lowered his head to meet her eyes. She lowered her gaze.
"I've never really heard that being said to me. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to spring that on you." She sighed, heavily, sniffing and wiping rogue tears that had spilled from the corners of her eyes.
"It's alright, Ambrose," Ace assured her. He hesitated, "You should be told that more often."
He cleared his throat, almost regretting saying it.
Scarlett sniffed and gave him a small smile.
After a few silent moments, the doorbell rang and a voice called, "Room service."
"Dinner," Scarlett said.
Ace nodded and turned to go to the door. He opened it and a smiling bellboy wheeled in a cart. "Good evening, madam, sir. Where would you like this?"
Ace cleared some files off the coffee table. "Just here."
After he was gone, the two of them sat down.
Ace looked down at the very many plates and raised his eyebrows. "What do we have, Ambrose?"
"Oh, I hope you don't mind. I sort of ordered everything on the room service menu that caught my eye. I've heard that the food at this hotel is really good, so I think I went to town. Sorry. You can take it out of my paycheck –"
"Ambrose."
Scarlett stopped and looked at him for the first time since she had cried into his chest. He was giving her his small, secretive smile.
"What?"
"I'm not going to ask you to pay for dinner. If it weren't for you, I'd be enduring another boring conversation. I'm glad that I'm here, instead."
Scarlett smiled. "I'm glad, too."
She took the cloches off of the plates, making delicious aromas rise from the dishes. They spoke about the various things that had happened over the week as they ate dumplings, chicken wings and plates of noodles.
"Tell me about the launch tomorrow," Scarlett said, biting into a chicken wing, "Why is this such a big deal to everyone here?"
Ace glanced at her. "Are you really interested?"
"Well, obviously. I wouldn't really ask if I wasn't, would I? Gee, for a guy who gave such an intelligent presentation, you sure can be stupid sometimes."
He sighed, with a smile. Not many people, especially not his employees had defied him or spoken so savagely to him before.
"Well, it's a presentation of the products that you launch. There are going to be investors at the launch tomorrow and everyone wants to impress them," he said and went on to explain how everything worked.
Scarlett listened, intently.
In the back of her mind, something was asking her why she cared. She had never cared about the companies of the people she had worked for before, but here she was, taking an active interest. She even asked him questions about how he had come up with the idea and Ace answered, finding her questions good practice for the next day.
"Ambrose, may I ask you a question?"
Licking the sauce off her fingers, Scarlett nodded, picking up another chicken wing.
Ace set down his fork and leaned into her. "Why are you working as a PA?"
Her chicken wing paused, halfway into her mouth. She withdrew it and pressed her lips together. Scarlett angled her head. "What?"
"You are interested in learning and you are obviously intelligent; the way you understand new concepts and ask questions. You can be so much more than someone's assistant," Ace explained and immediately wondered whether that offended her.
Scarlett, however, did not look offended. She looked thoughtful. She looked back at him, debating whether to tell him the truth about why she was just an assistant. "Do you really think I'm intelligent?"
"It shouldn't matter what I think, but I do," Ace replied.
She tossed the wing back on to her plate and leaned back in her chair, watching him.
"I never went to college," she admitted.
Ace said nothing. He simply nodded and waited for her to continue.
Scarlett lowered her head and looked at him through half-lidded, darkened eyes.
"I barely passed high school. After I did, I packed up and moved away, far away from everything that I knew. Away from Oliver. I left everything and I had nothing. The most I could do was try to find myself random jobs."
"How come you barely passed high school?"
She shrugged. Her voice was dry and low. "It's not like I had the most supportive environment. I was constantly being picked on and tormented and ridiculed. I would skip classes to stay away from people. When I tried to work, Oliver would bother me. At one point, I stopped caring. I just wanted everything to stop."
"How did you end up as a PA?"
"Aren't we a little inquisitive today?" Scarlett teased, mostly because she didn't feel like reliving the story.
Ace took the hint and shrugged. "I hope you learn, Ambrose. I hope you educate yourself. You could have done it in the past few years."
Scarlett stared at him, like this was the first time the thought had occurred to her. "I guess that's a real-life plot hole."
Ace chuckled. "Well, now you can fill it."
Scarlett suddenly seemed to realize the truth of Ace's statement: that she could learn now. But why didn't she? Even now, when Oliver wasn't in her life anymore, why didn't she learn? Why did she continue to put up with the worst men in business and hurt herself?
It seemed so strange to her that this man – this businessman – was telling her, encouraging her to improve and learn; this man who was her boss, the man whom she had kissed twice – the man who had kissed her twice – and then, never spoken about it again.
It was possible that the thought hadn't occurred to her before, but more than that, it seemed plausible that even though it did occur to her, she did nothing about it, because in Scarlett's head, she was still a helpless little orphan girl who couldn't do anything, expect now, she did it with red lipstick and a pair of stilettos.
They finished their dinner in silence and set the plates outside the door to be collected.
Scarlett plopped herself down on to one of the beds and nodded to Ace, completely disregarding every feeling that she had felt during dinner. "Pitch me," she said, leaning back on her elbows and making herself comfortable.
Ace looked at her, draped across the bed, still in her red pantsuit, her red lipstick lightly visible after the sauce-heavy meal she had had.
Scarlett barely registered him staring at her, because she was doing some staring of her own at Ace's physique. She knew he was tall, but from this angle, he was towering over her and there was always something about the way men rolled up their sleeves.
"What do you mean?" he asked, interrupting her thoughts.
"Give me the pitch speech that you're going to do tomorrow," she said.
Ace shook his head and smiled. "It's sort of a demo video. Not really a pitch speech. You'll see it tomorrow, along with everyone else."
Scarlett nodded.
"In future, however," he told her, sitting down on the other bed, "I might pitch to you, so that there is a fresh set of ears. You tend to ask some good questions."
Scarlett smiled, happily and laid back on the bed, her hair fanning out over the bedsheets. She turned on her side and reached out and gently prodded Ace's knee with her finger.
He turned to look at her, his captivating eyes focusing on her face.
"How did you get so good at this?" she asked.
Ace cocked his head slightly and there was a slight contraction of his eyebrows, though he smiled. "What?"
She looked at him through half-lidded eyes. "You obviously know what you're talking about when it comes to the trade. And you know, the people here, especially the ones at the discussion you did today, they obviously respect you and what you have to say. They're all obviously older than you and probably have decades more experience, but they listen to you and I can tell that they believe you bring something to the table. Your employees think that you're all that. You're still pretty young. How did you get here?"
Ace shrugged. "Hard work and perseverance."
"Don't give me that," she told him, "This isn't a commencement speech. I don't want to hear all that bullshit you'll tell people who want to hear a rainbow and sparkles success story. Tell me the real story."
There was a long silence.
Ace watched her for a while and then, leaned back on his elbow, his body slightly angled towards her and sighed. "Ironically, I think it's my Dad."
Scarlett raised her eyebrows.
"He always told me that I'd never amount to anything and that I wasn't good for anything. I grew up on those words. My entire life I listened to him tell me detrimental things and by the time I became about seventeen, I decided that that was all bullshit. So, I packed up, left home and I threw myself into work as an act of defiance," Ace said, his voice low.
"What does your Dad think now?"
Ace exhaled, heavily and shook his head. His eyes were cold and hard, like his voice. "I don't know. He died a few years ago of a heart attack."
He looked at Scarlett, who was wondering what to say.
"I didn't know when it happened. I didn't go for the funeral. I haven't seen my Dad since I was nineteen. Emerson told me that he had died," he went on.
"Your success is defiance against your Dad?"
Ace let out a single, mirthless chuckle. "I guess. Him and everyone else who told me that I was a kid who couldn't do anything."
Scarlett watched his face, their eyes surveying each other silently.
"I'm glad you defied him, Hardwood."
"Me, too, Ambrose. Me, too."
I wonder what you guys are feeling now.
Do you feel sad about Scarlett and Ace and what's happened to them?
And don't worry, there's quite a bit more to the story.
The Adventures of Sky and Ace will continue soon.
If you guys have a cover for the story or fan art of any kind, send it to me at writingpj(at)gmail.com.
Regarding the next story, I'll have the sneak peak of the book up soon and you guys can have another story to look forward to. ;)
Much love!