Chapter 5 Five

Ashley

I try to think, but for the past few weeks, Tristen has just been on my mind. As hard as it is, I can't let go of the fact that my tummy still quivers when I make eye contact with him. I have to try avoiding eye contact with him, his biceps, and his piercing blue eyes. Everything that spoke of him.

I have also avoided the beach for now. The memories that cling to the beach are strong, giving me the urge to slap myself out of the stupidity I portrayed back there.

I try to think of what this new wedding should be about. Tristen isn't joking with this wedding for two things: the groom is his best friend and he is to be his best man at the wedding, so he's always concerned about the outcome of the wedding.

He has called a meeting for all the planners and I don't want to be late for the meeting. I wash my hair and straighten it, combing out the tangled hair. I pack it up in a tight bun. Looking at the mirror, I apply a light lip gloss. My mom always said my lips don't need lipstick, so I always wear my lips with just lip gloss. I miss my mother more than I can imagine.

I throw up a black skirt and my favorite blue, breezy blouse. With the right pumps to match, I walk out of my room with a smile on my face. No matter how many times Tristen has tried to frustrate my life, I try to stay bold. My life in New York is the backbone of my strength. Sometimes I wonder what Mom would say when she looks at me from up above. I hope she's proud of the girl I'm becoming.

I walk into the planning room, wishing that I'm not late. There are fifteen chairs placed around a large table, with Tristen's chair in the middle. I was scared with the thought of making suggestions in front of a lot of people, but Trisha assured me that the planning committee is a nice group and that they're welcoming to other people's ideas.

I don't hear any noise from inside the room, so I guess I'm here early. I slowly open the door and take my seat at the extreme, wanting to be lost in this group. I wish I had surveyed the room before entering, if not, I would have waited for another person to enter before I got in.

Tristen is seated at the center, his hands tapping noisily on the mahogany table. I wish I can get out of this room, but that will be termed as the most awkward thing I've done in my life that includes drooling in class and almost setting the chemistry laboratory on fire, so I sit in and pray that other members will come in soon.

The next thing I hear is his echoing, reassuring voice. "Why are you sitting at the extreme?"

"Nothing." I don't want to talk to Tristen right now, so I busy myself with twisting my fingers.

He raises one of his bushy eyebrows. "You sure? Well, you don't have to decide, I do. And my decision is that you sit close here since you're the one in charge of the wedding plan. Or...?"

I know his next words. He's threatening me again. He'll want to send me on the street. I bite my lower lips and slowly move out from the chair. I tuck it in and walk up a chair not too far from him and also not too close.

He smirks and shakes his head. "Next to me."

I roll up my fist, but of course, I can't punch him in the face. First, he's my boss; second, he'll probably like it, so I just move up to the chair next to him.

Here, I can smell his cologne, and I am trading the air with him. I can't breathe. My hands are shaking and sweaty.

Oh, Lord. I wish to be somewhere else right now.

We don't talk, only sit in silence, waiting for the other people to come in. Sitting close to him, I remember all that I did when I was younger. I remember when I broke a plate at his feet because I was fidgeting at his stature. Trisha had laughed me in the face because of it.

I can hear my heart beating.

Sweet Mary.

The door creaks and my heart dances for joy. My prayer has been answered.

An older woman walks in. She doesn't smile and her hands are filled up with paperwork.

"Good morning, Mrs. Fable."

She still doesn't smile. "Good morning, Mr. Moore."

This isn't the company I'm hoping for. She sits down opposite me and I feel her cold stares. Suddenly, the temperature in the room drops. I shiver.

I wait still until the whole room is occupied with all the members of the planning committee. As expected, the last person to walk in is Trisha smiling ear to ear.

"So, let's start." Tristen's voice rings.

We all sit up, except for Trisha who's slouching on the cold table.

"Any ideas?" he's no longer sitting, his height intimidating everybody, especially me who's close to him. Mrs. Fable doesn't seem to be shaken at his audacity, probably because she's been working with him for a long time.

I'm tempted to raise up my hand, but no one's hand is raised, so I sit in, waiting for someone to bring up an idea. But no one dares to raise their hands up.

"Ashley?" his voice awakens me from my dormant state. I jerk up, feeling bile at the pit of my stomach. I have something to say, but I'm not sure my voice can carry it. Worst of all, I'm not sure Tristen will approve of it.

"Yes..." I trail off, my voice lost between my vocal cords and my diaphragm.

"Tell us your idea for the wedding." His hands are crossed between his large chest, his eyes are pressed down at me, chasing away what I have in store.

I try to stand, but my heels are giving me away. When I'm straightened up, I pull a tight smile and face the pair of fourteen eyes fixed at me. I don't even want to count Tristen's eyes that are at the back of my head.

My knees are weak.

I ready my tone. "I... I think we should use Mexican culture as the theme of the day."

When no one objects to what I say, I continue. "The bride is Mexican, so I think we should impose the use of Mexican food like tacos, enchiladas, mole, elote, tostadas, chiles en nogada..."

Tristen sighs. "We get the point, Ashley."

Thankfully, The whole board doesn't laugh, so my confidence isn't really crestfallen, but embarrassment doesn't escape my face. My cheeks burn.

"Should I continue?" I ask, nervously.

He nods once. "Go on."

I gulp. "So, we should use those as the theme. I checked the list of florists and I have decided that we should go with a flower that trends more in Mexico than any other country." Some people are nodding, giving me more courage to talk.

"So, maybe, we can go for the Yucca flower or the Chocolate Cosmos. There's a florist who deals with different varieties of flowers, so we can set up a meeting with her."

The whole board is smiling now, jotting down my ideas. My back is turned against Tristen, so I don't note his reaction. I hope he's happy about this. "We can fix up a Mexican made dress or something like that."

Everybody laughs at this comment and I feel happy that I'm led to speak to them.

"I haven't researched more on their colors, but I'll want us to use Mexican colors on the cake. That's if we all agree with the plan."

I'm done with my speech so I turn to Tristen. "That's all I have for now."

I spot that he's somewhat baffled with my idea, and it's exhilarating that I surprised him, proving to him that I'm better than what he makes of me. I sit back in my chair, waiting for his remarks.

Tristen clears his throat. "Ashley, that's almost a good one."

My cheeks burn. Almost?

"I see you have properly researched your idea, so I'll give that to you, but I think you would have done better. Mateo, as you know, is not Mexican, so we don't want this to be a one-sided thing. Yes, I know you want it to be cultural, but you have to blend both cultures. You should do better next time."

His words sting my heart. All the happiness I've gathered from the board's acceptance to my idea crumbles and my face is downturn.

Trisha stands up. She always stands up for me. "I think Ashley gave us a nice idea. She's new to planning and her ability to craft out a beautiful idea for this wedding should be appreciated. That's her own thoughts concerning the wedding–which I totally approve of. You can't just erase what she's said."

The only person that can stand up to Tristen is Trisha. All other members of the board just wait to see the verdict of everything playing out.

Tristen tuts. "Well, she would have done better than what she brought to the table. Being mediocre is not accepted in this board."

My eyes sting now, not just his words. I try to keep myself from standing up and bursting out of the room, because that will prove that I'm weak and a big failure. I sit still in my seat.

Trisha melts into her chair, but I'm sure she's also burning with fury. Tristen raises his head up above, satisfied by the outcome of this meeting. I don't know why he's bent on frustrating me.

"Any more ideas?" he doesn't look like someone who just tore another person's esteem into two. The board doesn't reply. Everybody sits tight in their chairs. I'm sure he'll call someone else.

"Well, if there's no more ideas left to be shared, we'll have this meeting another day. You may all leave."

Everybody walks out in haste, and I join them. I don't care if my heels break now. I just need to get the hell out of here and go cry into my pillow.

I'm grateful he doesn't stop me from going, but Trisha calls me back. "Ashley?"

I don't turn, but double up my speed. I don't want to talk to anyone right now, even Trisha.

"Please wait, Ashley." She pleads.

I wait, holding the tears for a little more time. "What? Your brother has ruined my life already."

"Please, just wait."

I don't want to break down in the hallway, so I take her to the bathroom. I check around if someone is here, but when I see no one, I let the tears fall.

"I'm so sorry, Ashley."

I turn my face from her. "Will you keep apologizing on your brother's behalf? You're always sorry for him."

"And I truly am." She takes my hand. "You know you're my best friend. I don't want anything bad for you."

I hug her, crying into her soft, silky black hair. "But why is your brother always against me? Why?"

She pats my back. "I'm so sorry he's being a jerk to you, but I think that's how he is. He's a perfectionist and always wants his things to be done in the right way. I'm so sorry you have to go through all this because of him. He's extra cautious about his things."

I shake my head. "That's not enough reason for him to torment me."

"Yes, I know, I'm sorry. Don't take this deep, he has nothing against you. Please, Ashley. Please."

I pull out from her shoulder and wipe my red rimmed eyes. "Okay, I won't cry again. I won't."

She smiles. "That's my Ashley. Be strong. You're strong."

She takes me to my room and strokes my head until I fall asleep. I don't even notice when she leaves, because I sleep peacefully, dreaming of floating clouds.