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Ash.”
    “Thanks, Chels. I wouldn't have even entertained last night without you. It was definitely better than crying on the couch and downing a carton of ice cream by myself.”
    “You know I push because I luv ya,” said Chelsea as she rested her hand on my forearm.
    “Yes, I know. Luv ya back.”
    Phew. End of discussion. I knew there would be a time and place for the rest. Just not then.

Chapter 6
     
    Chelsea and I spent Sunday afternoon shopping. That night we rented a movie and ordered takeout from a Chinese restaurant that we decided was our favorite in New York City. I spent Monday riding my bike through Central Park and curling up on the couch with a good book. There were moments where I thought of Brandon, but I fought the urges.
    Despite a reasonably pleasant end to the weekend, I woke drained on Tuesday morning. The intensity of all that happened had caught up with me. Friday night seemed distant and present at the same time. Sex with Jeremy was taken over by my fantasy about Brandon. Then there was the matter of my erotic fantasy about Brandon in my shower.
    I was conflicted about my morning meeting with Brandon. The sting of his cheating and our break-up still pained me. At the same time, I couldn't deny that my attraction to him hadn't waned. I sensed that he had a control over me, one that I allowed him to have, and I didn't like it. But it was, nevertheless, real.
    “Gotta run, I have an eight o'clock class,” said Chelsea as she grabbed her book bag.
    “I'm right behind you,” I said.
    We shared an elevator ride down and then parted on the street. Chelsea headed for the subway to Columbia and I grabbed a cab to the office. On the ride over I felt like I was having a mini panic attack. As soon as I arrived at work I headed for the bathroom.
    I splashed cold water on my face. I felt sick to my stomach. I sprinted into a stall and offered up my breakfast. I rinsed at the sink and headed to my office. Thank goodness I had a bottle of mouthwash in my desk drawer.
    “Good morning, Ashley. How was your weekend?” asked Peter, one of my social media managers.
    “Fine. How was yours?” I wasn't going to get into what my weekend had really been like.
    “Nice. Spent the weekend on Long Island with my folks,” Peter said.
    I checked the time. “Gotta run, Peter. I have an 8:30 meeting.”
    I closed my office door and headed down the hall. I had made the walk countless times the past three months. I had never dreaded going to Brandon's office until that morning. If I had anything left in my stomach, I probably would have been sick again. Being firm with him on the phone was one thing. Keeping my composure in person was entirely another matter.
    I took a deep breath and pushed through the doors into Brandon's outer office.
    Teresa was already at her desk. She looked up and smiled.
    “Good morning, Ms. Sullivan.”
    “Good morning, Teresa. I have an 8:30 with Mr. Mitchell.”
    “I'll let him know you are here.” She did and then told me to go on in.
    I paused at Brandon's door and then walked into his office. He stood from behind his desk. His face stoic. His body rigid.
    “Ashley, please sit down,” he said motioning to the couch. We had sex on that couch three months ago. It was my “welcome to New York” sex.
    I froze. What the hell is he doing? What kind of game is he playing?
    “Is there a problem?” he asked.
    What the fuck do you think?
    That was what I felt like saying. But I was going to show him that it didn't bother me. At least I was going to try to give the impression that it didn't bother me.
    I walked over and sat on the couch and crossed my legs. Brandon sat in the chair opposite the couch. He tented his hands as he looked at me in silence. I figured he was gathering his thoughts.
    “So, how are we going to do this?” he asked after a few moments.
    “Do what, exactly?”
    “Make our professional relationship work,” he replied.
    My stomach settled a bit. I was still anxious