Half Hearted

Chapter Twenty Eight

| Ash |

"Out of all the people you could have chosen, you chose Stein?!" Ash tried lowering his voice, knowing they were in a public area. Still, he couldn't help the fury.

Peter didn't looked fazed as they walked down the street, "if it bothers you that much, maybe I should hire her again."

"Stein's going to eat her up alive!" Ash grunted, already envisioning the man ordering Teresa around until her bones collapsed.

"I told him to go easy on her, alright?"

Letting the subject go, Ash gave out one final sigh and then stayed silent as they continued walking. He had no choice in the matter, and he had to remind himself of that.

From Tim Hortons, they were heading to the new photoshoot. Peter thought it'd be nice if they walked instead of having Riel constantly drive them to places that were a walking distance from the hotel. Besides, the man was having troubles with his wife. He needed the break.

When the two of them reached the unfamiliar building, Peter signed in with the receptionist, and then they headed to their floor.

They got in and were greeted by familiar faces. Suddenly, Ash felt something tremble.

Teresa wasn't there any more.

Even though she'd been working under Maudie for about a week, he enjoyed having her around and seeing her frustrated face as she cleaned the equipment. He always noticed how she would keep things parallel to each other, and even symmetrical, if she could. If she couldn't, she would frown and start all over again.

The bittersweet feeling clung to him worse than his memories with Cheryl.

This is good for her.

Sighing, he continued on with his work for the day. Just one photoshoot, lunch, another interview, and then dinner.

Everything had become a routine again. No more exhilaration from the random surprises she came up with. No more moments that caught her off guard and made him want to sweep the living daylights out of her and...

Stop.

He had become robotic.

| Teresa |

I met with Mr. Stein the next day, and he seemed nice. The only thing was that he always had something on his mind.

While he was telling me what my job was - which would be the usual errands of getting coffee, picking up some files, or doing dry cleaning - he kept getting distracted by Grant's schedule.

"I almost forgot about his interview with Entertainment Weekly," he randomly stated in the midst of our conversation about which kind of coffee Grant liked.

"Uhm, Mr. Stein?" I coaxed, pausing my hand from writing.

"Yes? Oh, yes, coffee," he nodded, regaining awareness. "He usually just goes with the season. Right now it's pumpkin spice."

I wrote it down on my notepad. "And when would be my required hours?"

"Pete says you're still in University, right?" I nodded, noticing his familiarity with Peter. "Then I'd say from the hours of five to nine on weekdays, and then from eight in the morning to six in the afternoon on Saturdays. Sundays our crew is all off, Grant prefers not much work on those days."

I took note of all he'd just said, relieved that I'd have one day left in the week to dedicate to my studies.

His phone rang and he politely smiled at me, taking the call. "Hello? Yes. Really? Perfect, we'll be on our way! Great news, Grant just arrived. I'll go introduce you."