Slack: A Day in the Life of Ford Aston

A waitress walks by with a tray and I tap her on the shoulder as she passes. “Have you seen Miss Corvus?” I ask politely. I creep her out, I can tell, because she immediately pulls away from me and then points wordlessly over the crowd to Antoine’s office.

She’s gone before I can thank her.

It’s quite difficult to be polite and when I’m handed rudeness in return, it makes me want to morph back into the old me.

I drop that thought as I make my way through the throngs of people and spy Rook standing just inside the door with Veronica. They are thick as thieves these days. If I were Spencer I’d watch out. They will be into trouble soon, if they’re not already.

Ronnie is wearing a short black dress with very high heels. Her look says she takes her fun seriously.

Rook, on the other hand, is dressed like a dark princess. Her dress is not a dress. It’s a gown. A long midnight-blue gown that breaks the black only rule, but no one cares because she is stunning. The dress has a tight strapless bodice and elaborate skirts that touch the ground. Her hair is flowing down her back in long waves and atop her head is a shiny blue cardboard tiara.

Just as she turns and spies me, the light catches the blue of her eyes and her crown at the same time. It’s like a flashbulb and my mind takes a picture.

“Rook,” I say loudly and with a smile. She winces and it’s official. She’s been avoiding me. “It’s your turn, let’s go.” Veronica pats her on the shoulder like she needs her sympathy and that makes me angry. But I strike through that emotion and beckon my friend with a finger.

“Ford,” she starts. “I’m not in the mood. I’m tired of talking. I’m sorta drunk. I’m not ready for this. I’m—”

She goes on and on like that but she follows like a good girl and I just tune it out. We exit the studio and walk down the hallway to the room where I’ve set up the camera. When I wave her through the doorway she’s still talking about waiting guests and Ronin missing her if she stays too long.

I nod. Yes, yes, yes, I get it, that nod says. I motion for her to sit. She sits. She always does as she’s told when I’m the one asking.

It should make me feel good, that I have this control over her. But it doesn’t.

I sit across from her and sigh.

And it’s only then that she notices. I’m surprised it took her so long, her skills at reading body language are astute.

“What?” she asks. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

“I’m not going to tape an exit interview of you, Rook. We have so much footage of you from the news, there’s no need.”

She smiles and the knife slips in. She gathers her dress in her fingertips and rises out of the chair. “Good, then I’m not needed here and I’ll just be going,” she says, twisting the knife just a little.

“I’m leaving,” I say quickly.

“What?” she asks, halting her fleeing feet mid-stride. “But it’s not midnight yet.”

“I just want you to know I did it all for you,” I say, ignoring her statement. “And I’d do it again if that’s what makes you happy. I only ever wanted what’s best for you.”

Her whole body softens at my words. “Ford…”

“And I understand why you wanted to stay in community college and finish your general ed classes and not transfer into Boulder just yet. Online classes are better. The weirdoes and haters are thinning, but they’re still out there, so that keeps you safe. I’m proud of you, I want you to know that. Whatever makes you happy makes me happy.”

She sits back down, rests her elbows on her knees and props her chin up in her hands. Surely she knew this would have to end eventually.

“If it were anyone else, anyone but you who wanted me to give them so much for so little in return, I would’ve walked away and never looked back a long time ago. But you make it so, so difficult to turn away. And I couldn’t let the sadness and pain touch you. It drives me mad when you’re unhappy. I lie awake at night wishing I could bring Jon back to life and torture him myself. I wanted to kill that Abelli ass**le for even entertaining the thought of selling you. I want to pull you into my chest right now and keep you for myself. Because, Rook, I just want you.” I stop to study the shock on her face for a moment before continuing.

“I. Fucking. Want. You,” I say, my voice a deep rumble in my throat. “If I’d found you first instead of Ronin, you’d be mine right now. And I’d never let you go. I know what you think of me, of the girls I have, of my”—I look away for a fraction of a second, then drag my heated stare back to her slumped shoulders and sad face—“idiosyncrasies. But I am nothing like Jon. I have never been anything like those men on that list.”

“I know that, Ford,” she says softly as she reaches out to touch my arm.

“Don’t.” I pull away before she makes contact with my suit coat. “You cannot touch me. If you touch me…” I shake my head, unable to continue.

“If I touch you what?” she asks with an air of challenge.

My own mother hasn’t even touched me as many times as Rook has, so this probably does deserve an explanation. “If you touch me I’ll touch you back. I’ll cup your face and kiss your mouth. I’ll hold you close and make you choose me.” I stop and swallow hard and then lean into her space and whisper, “I’ll ruin everything if you touch me. I’ll ruin us. I’ll ruin this. I’ll ruin you, just like you said. I’ll ruin you and I’ll ruin your life. And I love you too much to ruin you. So I’m leaving.”