by Tabatha Kiss
“It was the first time I’ve ever told anyone about where I really came from,” he says. “I confided in a woman who made me feel safe, but I knew I couldn’t trust her, so I panicked and pushed her away before she could abandon me again.”
I blink twice. “Oh.”
He exhales hard. “Yeah.”
My heart twinges.
Nice going, Paige.
I furrow my brow in confusion. “So, you wanted me to leave?” I ask.
He squints for a moment. “What?”
“You pushed me away. I left. And now you’re mad at me for leaving?”
“No.” He shifts on his toes with his face contorted in thought. “No. You pushed me away.”
“I thought no one has to know scribbled on a bar napkin meant exactly that.”
“Then, why do that to me last night if spending the night together meant more to you than that? ”he asks.
“I don’t know,” I stutter. “I thought it’d be a nice, romantic callback.”
“To the night you got dumped and used me for sex?”
“I didn’t—” I bite down hard. “I wasn’t expecting you to catch feelings for me, Oliver.”
“I didn’t catch feelings for you,” he argues.
“But you wanted to see me again?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “For more sex?”
“Then, last night was just a casual fuck to you?”
“No,” he says.
What the fuck is happening?
I hold my breath. “Do you have feelings for me now, Oliver?” I ask.
Blunt.
Almost business-like.
“Do you have feelings for me now?” he replies, avoiding it.
I put my hands together. “Okay, we’ll answer at the same time. Yes or no? Count of three. One. Two. Three.”
“Yes,” we answer together.
“Then, we both want the same thing?” I ask excitedly.
He shakes his head. “No.”
I slap my face between my palms. “Goddammit, Oliver, you’re giving me whiplash!”
“Hey, you kissed me, Paige!” he says. “After days of friends this and friends that and professional boundaries. Who’s lashing who here?”
“You fondled me on a train!”
“But I didn’t kiss you,” he says. “You don’t kiss someone like that unless you mean it.”
“I only kissed you after you revealed your dark and sympathetic backstory! What did you think was going to happen?! I read romance novels, Oliver! That’s like catnip.”
His eyes narrow. “Well, it’s nice to know my years as a neglected, starving orphan are such a huge turn-on for you.”
My gut sinks as he taps the elevator call button. “That’s not what I...” I sigh. “Oliver—”
“Don’t,” he says. “Just save it. We’ve said enough.”
The elevator doors open and he steps into the empty car.
“Oliver, I’m sorry,” I say.
“Yeah,” he says. “Me, too.” He taps a button on the wall. “Look, how about we just… leave it be? All right?”
I nod slowly.
The golden doors close, and a woman stares back at me from their reflection.
She’s sweaty and disheveled with a tattered, blonde ponytail and rose-red cheeks. No make-up. No friends. No boyfriend, but is that really so surprising at this point?
Who is this woman?
She’s a fucking idiot.
Chapter 27
Oliver
“Each building manager will prepare a presentation,” I say for the third time this week. “Just five-to-ten minutes of ideas for what they think can make this company better.”
Angela nods from the chair behind her desk as she skims the paper in her hand. “Sounds easy enough,” she says with a noticeable yet faded British accent.
“Graham wants to foster an atmosphere of teamwork and cooperation.” My eyes wander her office. A few college degrees hang on her wall, the earliest dating back to 1988. She’s been here a while. One of the Botsford Corp’s senior building managers. “It’s not just his company. It’s our company.”
She chuckles. “Like father, like son.”
“It’s the Botsford way.”
“For that branch of the family tree, sure.”
I grin at the obvious dig at Drake Botsford, her former... who knows.
She’d never tell.
“Shots fired, Angie,” I say.
She mimes a key near her mouth and turns it. “I said nothing.”
“You know, one of these days, you’re going to have to finish telling me that story,” I say.
“Well, I’d planned on doing just that at the next building manager retreat, but—oh!” She turns up her hands. “You won’t be there.”
I shrug. “Guess I’ll just have to fill in the blanks myself, then.”
“You could try, but you’d never get it right.” She sets the paper down. “I’ve got just the topic in mind for my presentation.”
“Oh, yeah?” I ask. “Is it something I can pass on for you today?”
“Oh, no.” She smiles. “No need to bother Graham just yet. He’s got enough going on. We’ll chat at the convention.”
I nod. “All right.”
Angela takes a long, hard look at me, her smile lingering on her thin lips. “You did it, kiddo,” she says. “Worked your way up.”
“Well, I had a lot of support,” I say with a nod at her.
She scoffs. “You had balls. Brass ones. You’re probably aware of this already, but there are quite a few people in this company who were not pleased with the news of your promotion.”
“Ian?” I assume.
“Among others.”
“How did you feel about it?”
Angela smirks. “I thought... of that shy young man in a hand-me-down suit sitting in the back of the Plaza ballroom furiously taking notes while all the other managers were busy stroking each other off and patting themselves on the back for just how wonderfully successful they were. They thought the war was over. Meanwhile, you were sharpening your blade.”
“You make me sound so manly,” I quip.
“Darling, the only thing manlier than taking what you want is doing the work to earn it,” she says. “You earned this. Don’t let the circle-jerking morons make you think otherwise.”
I chuckle, but I note her advice. I always have.
“Hey, why didn’t you ever put your name in for the Liaison position?” I ask, curious.
“What makes you think I didn’t?” She waves a hand. “Once upon a time, maybe I thought about it, but...” She shakes her head. “I’m happy here. Boston is my home now.”
“You know, I’m starting to see the appeal,” I say. “I went out last night. Saw a bit of the town up close.”
“Where d’you go?”
“Muffin Top bakery.”
She perks up. “Did you get a cupcake?”
“Yes, I got a cupcake.”
“Good cupcakes.”
“Amazing!”
Her desk phone rings. She answers it with a pause and clears her throat before speaking. “Hello?... Yes. ... No, go on and cancel it, then. ... All right. Bye.”
She hangs up and leans back in her chair.
“Cancel what?” I ask.
“Oh, just another meeting that could easily be an email,” she quips. “Kind of like this one!”
I button my jacket as I rise from my chair. “And miss the chance to see your beautiful smile again?” I wink. “Not a chance.”
“God!” She rolls her eyes, amused. “Don’t tell me you’re still madly in love with me.”
“You’re far too much woman for me, Angie. You know that.”
“Damn right.”
I take a step back toward the door, then pause. “Seriously. You’ve known me since...” I shrug a shoulder. “Do you really think I’ve got this?”
Angela smiles, showing
sincerity in her wise, old eyes. “I think if you put your mind to it, you can do anything,” she says.
I nod, comforted by her response. “Even you?” I joke.
She laughs. “Oh, fuck off.”
I bow as I open the door.
“Hey, kiddo,” she says, stopping me. “I’m really proud of you.”
I smile. “Thanks.”
“You’re here through the weekend, yes?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I answer. “Lunch tomorrow?”
Her brow piques. “On you?”
“On Graham.”
“Then, yes.”
“Maybe you can finish telling me that story then,” I say.
Angela mimes a key near her mouth and turns it.
I exit her office, stepping immediately into the busy front desk area of Botsford Plaza Boston.
Paige rises from a chair behind the desk with her clipboard. Just like always, my eyes instantly draw a line down her body from head-to-toe. She wore blue today but, for the first time on this trip, I didn’t get the memo.
I wore the red tie.
She detaches her file and hands it to me, her movements stiff and cold. “Your meeting went a little long, so I finished the gift shop on my own,” she says, barely making eye contact with me.
“Sorry about that,” I say. “Angie and I are—”
“It’s fine,” she says over me. “The audit is complete now, so... have a good weekend. Our flight to Miami leaves Sunday night at seven.”
My gut clenches.
Oh, right.
Flight.
“Okay,” I say.
Paige walks off without another word. She rounds the desk and heads toward the golden elevators, never once glancing back at me.
Graceful. Elegant. Professional.
Good.
It always should have been like this.
Chapter 28
Paige
Gertrude tightened her grip on the knife handle, hoping to quell the shaking in her fingers as she knelt behind the tractor. Her breath turned white in the air, so she lowered her head, knowing that the cool wisps would give away her location.
The barn door opened. The thick sound of boots thumped across the cold ground. He was drawing close.
Tears streamed down Gertrude’s face.
She knew she was about to die.
I wince as I shove the bookmark between the pages and slam the book closed.
Nope.
Nope nope nope.
I thought the book would be less scary if I read it out in public in broad daylight. I was very, very wrong. Not even the bustling Saturday afternoon foot traffic across the hotel lobby could tone down the ghastly imagery on each page. And I mean each page. Holwood really, really wanted to freak people out in this one, I think. Or maybe he was just going through something. Or maybe I’m just a huge wimp. I don’t know.
I’ll pick it back up later.
I glance around the hotel lobby as I reach for the soda bottle on the table beside my seat. There’s always something going on at a Botsford Plaza. You just have to know where to look. My eyes bounce from business suits to sundresses to fancy coats to smiling staff. On the surface, nearly every Botsford Plaza looks the same. Dig a little deeper, and...
I sigh. I’m really going to miss this.
A new Plaza every day. A new city. A new lobby to watch people in. A new way to pretend that my life is anything but—
Oliver?
He steps off the golden elevator in front of me. I snatch the book and open it, quickly using it to shield my face as he wanders by. Just a random guest sitting in the lobby, reading a book. Nothing to see here...
The knife teased her flesh as it twisted—
No, don’t actually read it!
I peek over the top. It doesn’t look like Oliver noticed me sitting here. He walks right past me toward the front desk in a pair of casual slacks and a thin, blue sweater. Sleeves rolled up. Hair styled down to scratch his eyebrows.
Damn, he’s handsome.
Too bad that train has railed.
It’s for the best, I tell myself.
We’re through. Finished. And I’m pretty sure I can forget about that job offer, too.
Angela emerges from her office behind the desk and Oliver instantly grins, thrilled to see her. As she joins him in the lobby, the two walk together side-by-side, chatting back and forth and laughing all the way into the restaurant.
I raise a curious brow.
It’s Saturday.
Oliver had no meetings with Angela scheduled for Saturday.
He had nothing scheduled at all for Saturday.
I drop the book into my lap.
I...
What?
Chapter 29
Oliver
“Hey, Angie, do you ever read romance novels?”
Angela furrows her brow as she glares at me over the rim of her teacup. “From time to time. Should one catch my eye.” She squints. “Why?”
“I’m reading one right now,” I answer.
She scoffs. “You?”
“A friend recommended it to me,” I explain, “but I can’t seem to make sense of it.”
“What’s it about?”
“It’s about a couple who...” I choose my words carefully. “Well, they work together.”
Angela rolls her eyes. “Big mistake,” she murmurs.
I chortle. “I know, right?”
“Go on.”
“They had a one-night stand a few years ago,” I say. “Back before they worked together. He wanted to make something more of it, but she didn’t. Now, he’s her boss.”
“And they’re trapped together in a work environment filled with unresolved sexual tension?” she asks, smiling at the obvious.
I nod. “They tried to just be friends, but now, she has feelings for him, he has feelings for her, and every day they just keep getting closer and closer. But they work together. There are rules.”
“Sounds they should just shag and get it over with.”
“We did. I mean — they did, but it just made things more complicated. He’s got... some emotional baggage, admittedly. And she’s got something weird going on, I think. Hard to say.”
“So, what’s the problem?” Angela asks. “Why don’t they just talk about it?”
I shrug. “They had a fight. They were so close before, but now they’re avoiding each other. Work is awkward and I... I don’t understand. They both want the same thing. Why can’t she let him in? Why can’t he admit he needs her? Why they can’t just... figure it out?”
“I don’t mean to spoil it for you, darling, but they will eventually,” she says. “It’s a romance novel. That’s the point.”
“But what if they don’t?” I ask. “What if he decides he doesn’t want to get burned again and walks away?”
“Then, he comes back.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Because it’s a romance novel,” she says again.
“But what if they’re wrong for each other?” I ask.
“Then, it’s a shitty romance novel.”
I chuckle. Maybe she has a point.
Maybe Paige and I are deep in the throes of a shitty romance. Walking away would make the most sense. For the friendship, or lack thereof. And our jobs.
I glance around the busy hotel restaurant with a tingle on my spine. It doesn’t matter where I go in this building, I can still feel her everywhere. I instinctively look for her everywhere, even now. I search for that head of gorgeous blonde hair and those big, blue-rimmed glasses. But she’s not there.
She’s avoiding me as much as I’m avoiding her.
Angela tilts her head. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” she says with the wave of her hand. “Relationships are meant to be push and pull.”
I nod. “Right.”
“Eventually, if it’s meant to be, one of them will stop fighting it and everything will magically fall into place. They’ll hold hands and make love and
all that rubbish.” She winks. “In books like that, I mean...”
“Because it’s a romance novel,” I say, clearing my throat.
“Of course.” She raises her teacup again. “And if you get too bored with it, you can always pick up one of those horrific torture porn pulps you like so much instead.”
I chuckle. “That’s true.”
Our server returns with a tray effortlessly balanced on her shoulder. She lowers it down and sets our plates in front of us; Angela’s turkey club and my alfredo.
“Enjoy your meal, ma’am,” she says with a smile at Angela.
“Thank you, Stefanie,” Angela says.
Stefanie gives me a respectful bow. “Let me know if you need anything,” she says to us before shuffling off toward the kitchen.
I set my cloth napkin in my lap, still lost in thought. “Hey, Angie…”
“Yes?”
“Are men with deeply tragic backstories really a huge turn-on?” I ask, curious.
She subtly bites her lip. “Oh, god, yes,” she says.
I recoil as I reach for my fork.
Chapter 30
Oliver
“I love you,” Richard said. “You’re the closest thing in my life I have to a home.”
I exhaled slowly. “Richard—”
“I’m not leaving.” He pinched his brows together. “I’m not leaving.”
I fought it. I fought the urge for as long as possible, but I couldn’t deny it any longer. Richard was here now. He’d made mistakes. He’d left me so many times before tonight, but he was here now; right when I needed him the most.
Right when he needed me the most.
When we needed each other.
I look up from the book to peek around the airport terminal. As I scan the crowd, I make eye contact with a woman in ripped jeans. She purposefully points her eyes toward the book and back again, as if she were waiting for me to finally glance at her. She smiles in approval. It must be one of her favorites, too.
I bob my head in acknowledgment before looking down at the pages again. Normally, I might feel a tad self-conscious about reading a romance novel in a crowded place, but I’d do just about anything to distract myself from the nausea in my gut. Flights are never fun for me, but I’ve never flown at night before. I’m not sure if the dark sky will be a comfort or just make it worse.
