Can't Let You Go

***TALLY/HONEY***

Late Wednesday morning there is a knock on my office door. "I'm available, you may come in," I call as I finish up reading a memo.

"How did I do this time?" Ashton's got the face of a kid looking for praise. "I knocked and waited for you to answer."

"What do you want Ashton? I've got things to do," I say offhandedly as I return my attention to the computer screen

"Actually, your next appointment is with me. I've got you for a full thirty minutes." He makes himself at home on my sofa.

"How about I give you thirty seconds?" I deadpan.

"You've gotten a lot more feisty over the years."

"I've stopped seeing only people's ideal sides and started standing up for myself."

"Speaking of standing up for yourself, I met with our pal, Daruis, earlier. He says that you're working on a construction project in Chile and could use a former ambassador on your side. I'm willing to talk to Mom on your behalf if you're willing to come sit comfortably with me and talk like friends."

"Isn't that contradictory? Darius spoke to you, you'll speak to your mom. That's not me standing up for myself. And Darius had no business talking to you about it without clearing it with me."

"That's not how it was. We just met for coffee and chatted. I'm the one who asked if my mother's connections would be helpful. You know the current administration is not very popular down there. But they loved the former president and his ambassador. Just come chat with me." He pats the cushion next to him.

I seem to get baited into conversing with him no matter what so I decide to relent and step out of the defensive. As I'm walking across the room, I hear him mutter something under his breath. "What?"

"Shit. Did I say that out loud?" He pulls his lips back in an apologetic grimace.

"You didn't say it loud, but you said something. What was it?"

Looking away with an abashed half smile, he confesses. "I said 'fuck, you look good.' Sorry. I mean, I'm sorry you heard it, not sorry I thought it."

I look down at my attire self consciously. It's a simple, royal blue sheath dress with a neck that isn't too low and hem that's not too short. Sitting next to him, I don't bother to hide my skepticism.

"You still have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?" He shakes his head.

"I'm well aware of my looks and how they rate compared to others," I say glumly. "You, of all people, don't need to try to flatter me."

"Why me 'of all people?'"

"I'm particularly aware of how I rank against Emily's looks. You and my mother made it very clear."

He reaches out and takes my hand. "I'm so sorry that people have hurt you by their relationships with her. I can't speak for your mother, but I can assure you I didn't end things with you because of your appearance and I didn't fall for her because of hers. It's an ineffable attraction. Liam obviously feels that way towards you. The way he looks at you... He barely even glanced in Emily's direction when we all met."

Moving my hand away from his causes it to fall to my thigh and he squeezes me lightly, almost absentmindedly.

"I bet if you asked him what he thought of her, he wouldn't even remember who she was."

I look pointedly down at his hand and he suddenly draws it back, looking sheepish.

"So, ah, tell me about this big project that you're in charge of?"