Ashley Wilson looked in horror at her computer screen. Her eyes were wide, her jaw was slack; there was no way that the numbers could be right.

Down to my last hundred dollars, she thought. How is that even possible?

She mentally scanned through the events of the last week, thinking about the cups of coffee here, takeout food there, that oh-so-quick trip through the clearance section at J Crew.

Sure enough, it added up.

Ashley closed the laptop in front of her, eager to get the bad news out of her sight.

Two months! she thought, standing up from her desk and pacing around the tiny bedroom of her student apartment. Two months I've been jobless; how has that even possible?

But she knew.

Only a few months ago, Ashley was on top of the world: Dean's list at University of California, a great job as a personal assistant to one of the top software executives in San Francisco, and her future looking rosy. However, things all took a turn for the worse on that fateful day two months ago.

When she strolled into the sunny offices of Welsh-Sanderson that life-changing afternoon, she had no reason to think it wouldn't be a day like any other. But she remembered the events of that day with an unwanted clarity.

"Hey, Ash!" said Annie, one of Ashley's friends and coworkers, taking a seat at the other side of the long table in the middle of the main office floor.

"What's up, girl?" responded Ashley, her green eyes flicking up from the spreadsheets that she was currently poring over.

"You doing anything after work?" asked Annie, peering at Ashley from beneath her choppy, brown bangs. "Me and some of the other girls are going to Harper and Rye for some drinks after we're done. You in?"

"Oh, I dunno; Mr. Welsh has got me going through this information from that client we just picked up last week and I have no idea how long that's gonna take. I feel like I'm gonna sleeping here tonight."

Annie rolled her eyes playfully. "Please, you know how Welsh is- everything's gotta be done not only perfect but ASAP or it's the end of the world."

"Well," said Ashley, blowing a strand of her strawberry blonde hair out of her face. "BS or not, I have to get this done."

Annie flashed a smile of her cloud-white teeth. "Such a diligent little worker girl."

"Hey, not all of us have our parents paying our way to Berkeley," said Ashley, letting her frustration get the better of her. "Some of us have to work for our tution."

"Yeah, yeah, my parents are rich, I know. But you don't have to be loaded to come out for a quick drink. Come on...what if tonight's the night you meet that perfect, rich guy who's about to sell the next Tinder for, like, sixty-million."

Ashley looked up with a coy smile; Annie's ruthless man-hunting was a source of endless amusement for her.

"OK, fine," said Ashley.

"Yes," said Annie, pleased to have won the battle.

"I still have to finish this up; you guys go ahead without me and I'll meet you there."

"Deal," said Annie, standing up. "But no flaking out this time; I want to see that sexy little booty of yours."

"No flaking," said Ashley, holding up the middle and index finger of her right hand in a scout's honor gesture. "Promise."

Annie winked, and was off, leaving Ashley to her spreadsheets.

The afternoon passed into evening, and when Ashley looked up from her finished work, she saw that the office was nearly empty. A quick glance at phone let her know that it was nearly seven. Taking one last look at her Excel documents, Ashley hit "save" one last time before forcing herself to close her laptop and be done for the day.

Standing up, her legs screamed with joy as she stretched her body, her slender arms extended above her head, the air of the office cool against the strip of stomach that was now exposed.

"Miss Wilson," called a voice behind her.

With a gasp, Ashley spun around and was greeted with the sight of one of her bosses, Leonard Welsh.

Mr. Welsh was the co-founder of the firm where Ashley worked. He was a short, heavy-boned man with a face that perpetually seemed to be scrunched in worry, his features striking Ashley as those of a baby- a baby with male-pattern baldness, that is. His dark, wide-lapelled suit was tailored perfectly, hanging off his body in the most flattering way possible for a man of his round, corpulent shape. One of the top software executives in the valley, Ashley knew that despite his soft and unthreatening exterior, he was a man to take seriously.

"Another late day?" he asked, his small eyes peering out at her over a pair of gold-rimmed designer glasses.

"Oh, just looking over the information from the Dupree account; want to make sure it looks in order."

"Good, good," he said. "Say, speaking of which, we had some recent developments with the account; an opportunity for a, ah, special project has just presented itself. Why don't you come to my office for a moment? I think you'd be perfect for it."

"Uh, sure," said Ashley.

She moved to Mr. Welsh's side, the smell of his expensive cologne overwhelming her with the scent of sandalwood and lavender. They walked down the hallway that led to the executive offices, stopping at the ornate double-doors of Mr. Welsh's office. Opening one of the doors, he gestured for Ashley to step in.

"Have a seat," he said, gesturing to the plush, red chair on the other side of his desk.

A feeling of apprehension welling in her stomach, Ashley sat down.

"Anyway," said Mr. Welsh, shutting the door behind him and walking over to where Ashley sat. "It's a just a little project. Nothing I think you couldn't handle. Not if you're averse to a little, ah, crunch time, that is."

The next few minutes were a blur to Ashley. She remembered the chubby hand on her shoulder, the smell of Mr. Welsh's cologne flooding her nostrils, the sight of his baby-like face peering down at her, a look of lasciviousness on his features.

Then, a hand on her breast, followed by a slap across Mr. Welsh's face, then finally, a fat finger pointing to the door.

Ashley remembered rushing out of the office building, her laptop pressed to her chest, the power cable still dangling from it, the evening air cool on her body, a shocked tear streaming down her face.

And just like that, she lost her job.

She knew there was nothing she could do about it. Though it was a clear case of sexual harassment, Mr. Welsh had so much clout in the Bay Area that there was little chance that anything would come from a complaint beyond media scrutiny and lawyer bills that she couldn't hope to pay. So, she let it drop, thankful that Mr. Welsh seemed content to do nothing beyond giving a bad reference to anyone who called the company, rather than blacklisting her, as she feared.

But two months later, she was still unemployed. And as her bank account dispassionately informed her, her financial situation was about as dire as it gets.

The buzzing of her phone on her desk snapped Ashley out of her daydreaming. She looked at the display and saw that it was Annie.

"Hey, girl!" said Annie, her voice as lively as ever.

"Hey!" said Ashley, still shaking the stroll down memory lane out of her thoughts.

"How's the unemployed life going?"

"As boring as ever. And now I'm about to have being broke to deal with."

"Yeesh. That bad?"

"That bad. I'm starting to wonder how much being a cam girl pays," said Ashley, hoping that Annie could tell she was joking.

"Yeah, I'm sure a goodie-two-shoes like you is all over that kind of work."

Ashley let out a chuckle, though the anxiety about her money troubles was still digging into her stomach like dozens of cold pinpricks.

"Anyway, I have some good news!"

"Oh?" asked Ashley; good news was exactly what she needed.

"I have a lead on a job, if you're interested."

"Are you serious?" asked Ashley, shooting up in her seat.

"Mhmm. I know things've been rough for you with that asshole Mr. Welsh telling anyone who'll listen about how they shouldn't hire you, but I just got a company-wide email from someone in one of the other departments asking if they knew anyone who'd be interested in an executive assistant position. Naturally, I told them I knew just the girl."

"Ohmigod," said Ashley. "Thank you so much, Annie."

"Don't sweat it. Anyway, the guy's some loaded software developer who lives at home, so you'd be working with him one-on-one. I told the headhunter all about you, and she said that if you're as great as I've been telling her you are, then the job's all yours."

A broad smile beamed across Ashley's face, her green eyes wide with joy.

"What do I have to do?"

"Just a brief phone chat with the headhunter, then you meet with the client for another interview. He's looking for a girl like you, so I'm sure you'll be fine."

"I don't know what to say," said Ashley.

"Say ‘yes,' and then look over the information I just emailed you. It's all about the guy you'd be working with. Then call the headhunter!"

"OK, I'll do it now. Thank you so-so-so much, Annie."

"No worries; I got your back, you got mine."

They said their goodbyes and hung up, Ashley still elated from the news of a possible job. She didn't want to get too ahead of herself, but the thought of her money troubles being behind her was almost too wonderful to consider. Taking a deep breath, she accessed her email and pulled open the information that Annie had sent her.

It all looked normal: there was the headhunter's information, a little write-up about the job, then the name of the client.

"Scott Everest," she said to herself, the words feeling familiar on her lips.

Then, she accessed the attachments, going straight for the photo of the client.

And when she clicked it, a sharp gasp slipped past her lips. She knew exactly who this man was. It was a man from her past, one she never thought she'd see again.