20. Those Girls Are Like Fries

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"I've been waiting for you
to come and pull me back down;
 all the weight of the truth
 is taking me to the ground.
 I say,
 love ain't always pretty,
 sometimes it's ugly."

~ Griffin Peterson

Scarlett smiled at her boss and went over to the coffee table

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Scarlett smiled at her boss and went over to the coffee table. She sat on the floor and Ace followed suit, after removing his jacket, tie, waistcoat and shoes. He opened the pizza box and held it out to her.

She took a slice. "So, did the office fall apart without me?"

Ace took a slice himself. "You know, Ambrose, we went on just the way we did before you worked there."

She laughed, her mouth full of pizza.

They lapsed into silence as they continued to eat, seated side by side on the floor.

"I met Brad," Scarlett said, breaking the silence. Ace looked over at her. "He sort of ambushed me when I was coming from lunch. It freaked me out."

Ace's expression darkened, watching Scarlett. "What did he do to you?"

"Nothing," Scarlett shook her head, "He was just being Brad. He said somethings, I don't even remember. He's the worst; he really gets under my skin. Why does he bother you so much?"

Ace sighed. "He's underhanded in everything he does; business, sports, relationships."

"He's a cheater?"

Ace nodded.

"I hate cheaters."

"Why is that, Ambrose? I'm not saying cheaters should be excused, but what is the vendetta you have against them?" Ace was intrigued.

Scarlett sighed. "When I was sixteen, I had this boyfriend: Jack Richards. He was my first boyfriend and I'd grown up in foster care, without much sense of being wanted and Jack, well, he gave me that. Albeit, for about seven months."

"I doted on him because he gave me the attention I craved; I used to put up with him and his constant desire to sleep, and him never doing anything remotely nice for me than sweet-talking me. He used to say the most wonderful things, sometimes. He used to call me sweet names and tell me wonderful things, but a lot of the time that was it. I excused it, telling myself that we were young and if he could do for me, he would. If I ever told him I was upset about something, he would tell me that I'm trying to ruin a perfectly good thing or that I'm being annoying because I keep bringing up "things from the past" even though it happened literally three hours ago."

She sighed, again.

"Whenever I wanted to talk about something, he'd tell me he wants to do something else, or that he wants to sleep. And then when I tried to bring it up later, he'd tell me that I keep repeating the same things over and over again. It exhausted me, but God, I thought I was in love. For the first time in my life, someone had looked at me. For the first time in my life, I wasn't one among hundreds wanting to be cherished. I was it. He had picked me to give his attention to, so I clung to him."

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