Half Hearted

Chapter Thirty One

| Teresa |

I stumbled to regain my composure. Peter hadn't told me about Ash.

"S-sorry," I stuttered, struggling to explain what I was doing in his room. I held up my hand, showing him the shopping bag with his coat in it. "Peter told me to stay in here so that he could give me my coat back."

"Figures," Ash muttered, shaking his head. "How'd you get in?"

"He told me the receptionist would give me the card key, and they did," I answered, my hand still extended. He noticed, and finally took the bag from my hold. "I'll-I'll go then..."

"Just wait," he demanded, heading into the washroom. He came out holding my coat. "Here."

"Thanks." I made sure we didn't brush hands. Ash scratched the back of his neck, the both of us avoiding eye contact.

"Alright, bye, I guess."

The encounter was so painfully awkward I found myself thinking about it until I was in bed. I couldn't fall asleep, and my mind kept wandering to what I could've done differently to make things better.

Should I have driven faster? Maybe I shouldn't have even opened their door at all; simply leave the bag in front of their room.

Whatever, I thought, I'm probably not going to see him any time soon. Just get over it.

| Ash |

The days rolled by, and fortunately he had his job to distract himself from her. Maudie suggested the idea of trying to find a new girl, someone within his range of business.

The week consisted of them giving Ash suggestions. And by suggestions, they meant blind dates.

He was so used to them by now, but it became different. Girl after girl he found himself being bored by every single one of them.

Sure, they were all models, and they had legs that spanned for miles, but he wasn't content. Everything about them screamed overachieving.

He knew that half the girl population was bound to wear makeup, and he was completely fine with that, but there were some girls that were so over the top with their appearance, they recreated themselves everyday. And it wasn't just their looks that they manipulated. Half the time during dates, he'd notice the lies whenever he told them he liked a certain something.

With some girl named Sierra, he told her he loved watching the old BBC classic Merlin. She eagerly agreed, and he wasn't surprised. Then he continued by asking her if she loved the episode with Tom Hiddleston on it, and she said it was her favourite episode. This got him rolling his eyes, and he ordered the bill early. Tom was a friend of his, he knew very well what shows he was on and what shows he wasn't.

When Ash got back to the hotel, Peter chuckled. "Still not the one?"

He nodded, falling straight down on the bed. Peter laid his head on his hand, "when will you finally be satisfied? They're just girls - you can pick and choose which one you want by your side."

It's not that easy, he thought to himself, surprised that Peter - the romantic - sounded like the ultimate misogynist. "Just tell Maudie to give it a rest already."

"No can do. She's already got you set for this halloween."

"What do you mean? I thought that was an off day?"

"It is," Peter nodded. "But the director of Vogue's holding a halloween party while he's in the city. And you're obligated to go."

"Why?"

"Because Maudie's got you set up with another girl and you're going to meet her at the party instead of the boring old dinner. My idea. You're welcome."

He sighed, taking off his shoes and heading for the washroom.

"Oh yeah," Peter casually added in, making it sound as if it were no big deal. "I invited Teresa too."

Ash's eyes grew wide, and he stomped his way over to face the man. "You what?"

"You don't have to like her, but I do. Besides, they let me invite a guest, and since Maudie's already invited, I thought why the hell not?"

"And she agreed to this?" He asked, trying to search Peter's face for any signs of lying. He found none.

"On board, ready for the party." It was a lie, Teresa told him she'd think about it.

Ash pressed his lips to a thin line. Teresa. At a party with people like him.

No, she wouldn't even last half an hour before people would poke fun at her eyebrows, let alone the way she dressed. Yes, it was Canada - the land of the manners - but this was the fashion community.

"Talk her out of it," Ash sneered, but not making an impact on Peter.

"What? So I'll just call her up again and tell her that she's uninvited to the party? Wow, I knew you were an arse, but I didn't know you actually deserved to be called a twat."

"Fuck's sakes," he grunted, burying his head in his hands. "It never fucking ends."