5
FRANK
Considering he didn't have far to walk or anything to do beforehand, Frank still managed to arrive at the café late. Ash was already seated. He saw her as he walked passed the window. Upon entering, he walked past the queue at the service counter and approached her table directly.
"I was beginning to think I'd been stood up." Ash remained seated and held onto her almost empty mug of tea as she looked up at him. "But I know you're not like that. It's just, you're usually so punctual."
"I couldn't just drop everything," he lied and glanced back at the queue for food and drinks. "I'll just get myself a drink." He went to the counter as this wasn't the sort of establishment that offered table service. Incredibly popular, The Dalby café sold good food at great prices. There had been no expense spared on the décor, which had been the latest thing when it was done — about fifty years ago. Today it was more shabby than chic, and some of the furniture seemed to be held together with duct tape.
Frank wondered why he was there.
A few days ago, if she'd called him, he'd have come running faster. He'd have been there before her. The time apart had given him time to reflect, though, and he'd come to realize what they had wasn't what he wanted. They'd settled for comfortable familiarity without the passion or a solid foundation for their romance. That's what she'd said when she'd broken up with him. He hadn't wanted to acknowledge she was right. Not at first. He was coming to terms with the fact that she was right; they were finished. That's what this day off work was all about.
So why were they there?
"Why are we here, Ash?" Frank said as he slipped into his seat opposite his ex.
"I thought perhaps I was a little hasty, after all, we make a great couple."
Frank couldn't believe what he heard. "Who are you? You may well be a spitting image double for Ash, but you're not her. She'd know that's not true." He shook his head.
Ash shrugged and smiled as if dismissing his comment.
"You are sensitive and creative. I'm level headed and sensible. You annoy me sometimes, with your quirky ways, but I was hasty and out of line, which isn't like me. Frank you know we fit well."
Two weeks ago he would have agreed. One week ago, even. Now, not so sure. He raised an eyebrow.
"I love that you are the macho, strong and silent type, at times. But now, could you talk?"
"I'm not sure what to say, Ash. Why, after ten days, have you contacted me now?" Just as Frank had just begun to accept that they didn't belong together.
"We are looking at putting in an offer for Sky High Scaffolds. We've met with old Mr. Lisk, he wants to retire, and we're discussing a takeover, buyout, or whatever you want to call it." She released her grip on her cup and rested her hands on the table, palms down.
"What has that got to do with anything? Are you warning me to find another job before you and your brothers take over as my employers?"
"No. Not at all." Her voice rose, her brow furrowed, and she sat up a little straighter. "It would be great to have you on board, knowing you were our man on the inside. And when we're in charge we can promote you."
Her hands slowly and carefully reached across the table, stopping about halfway.
It would have been easy for Frank to take hold of them, and previously he would have done. Instead, he sat in stunned silence.
The meeting wasn't anything about wanting to get back together as a couple. He understood how Ash's mind worked. How Frank could fit in with the plans for O'Donnell Construction had motivated her actions.
"What do you say, Frank? After ten years, we know where we stand with each other. I'm sorry about what I said. Can we forget about it and pick up where we left off?"
"Pick up where we left off?" he questioned. What did she mean by this? There wasn't much to pick up. They sat in silence for a while. Frank saw no reason to end the silence; he had nothing to say. He knew Ash would say something eventually.
"When SHS merges with O'Donnells and we're in charge, we could promote you into a higher position. You don't want to be just a scaffolder your whole life, do you?"
Just a scaffolder.
Ash didn't want a humble scaffolder as her man.
Frank didn't play poker, and he knew he'd be no good at it. He couldn't stop his fingers from drumming on the table. He hoped he somehow seemed calmer than he actually felt. Inside him, anger brewed. At least he hadn't thumped his fist on the table.
He took a few deep breaths before speaking.
"My job title isn't an issue for me. Even now, I'm not just a scaffolder. It doesn't matter if you can't see that, Ash, because I've done plenty of thinking and you were right."
Ash looked genuinely surprised. "I was wrong." She shook her head.
It only fueled Frank's anger that she could be so arrogant as to think he'd rush back to her any time she wanted.
They were so not right for each other; they'd had a lucky escape.
"You were right, Ash. Even now, you are planning my future, telling me what I should want, that I should be promoted. You think I'm not good enough for you as a humble scaffolder. You've said often enough that I should be more ambitious. That's what you want: a high-flying senior guy who has a team of men working under him. I'm not that guy."
"Seriously?"
Frank just looked at her. He deserved a medal for how he'd held back and spared her feelings by speaking the honest truth, but only a part of it.
"So that's it? Ten years and you don't want a more senior position when we expand O'Donnell's because you'd rather focus your priorities? On making wooden toys in the garden?" Ash had always been scathing about his hobby. Putting him down.
He didn't need to justify himself or how he wanted to spend his time, not to her or anyone else.
"Yes. That sums it up."
She picked up her cup and walked away without so much as a goodbye. Picking up the cup was an odd move. She walked to the front of the line at the service counter and placed her mug on the counter without a word. Then she turned and proceeded towards the door. She never looked back, and Frank watched her go.