Oliver reads them all over my shoulder.
“Better go get that latte before the ice melts.” He reaches the door and pauses. “Amy will…she will always have my heart, but sometimes that’s not enough.”
The door slams behind him, and I scramble to pack my things, annihilate my hangover and eye bags, and get down to the lobby. Nerves flutter in my belly as the elevator lowers to the first floor, and by the time I’m in the lobby, I’m queasy with anxiety.
Jett sits at a corner table with two drinks and a nervous look I can only imagine mirrors mine. His head lifts, and the smile that appears strikes me dead center in the chest, and I falter a step before I reach the table.
“Hi,” he says, bashful. He slides the to-go cup in my direction. “I got this for you. I-I was hoping we could talk—”
“I amsosorry,” I start, barreling over him in hopes I can salvage my job and our friendship. “I didn’t mean to cross boundaries, and the last thing I want is to make youuncomfortable. I understand if you need me to step back from my position.” Tears pool, and I fight hard to keep them at bay, focusing on the condensation collecting on the side of the plastic cup. “But most of all, I’m sorry if I ruined our friendship.”
“Who says anything is ruined?” Jett leans over the table and pokes my forehead. “You might be overthinking up here.”
“Maybe a little,” I whisper, mustering the courage to look at him.
“Me, too,” he admits, pink rising on his cheeks. “It’s embarrassing, but I haven’t…”
“Kissed your employee?” I supply, trying to add some humor to this horrifying situation.
“Well, no.” He scrubs at the back of his neck. “But I was going to say I haven’t felt so conflicted about something in a long time…”
Between the hangover, the fear of losing my job, and now Jett’s confession, my brain has lost the capacity to accept and process information. My brain isbroken. That’s the only logical explanation for why the first words out of my mouth are “You hate me?”
As if I couldn’t fuck things up more, I somehow managed to make himhate me. Way to go, Sofía.
“No?”
“What are you saying, then? Am I fired? Do you hate me? Have I ruined our friendship?”
Each question adds to my downward spiral. I’m panicking, and he’s staring at me like I’m a goddamn fish out of water while nervously picking at his label.
Speak, man! Put me out of my misery.
“I’m not going to fire you.”
“You should. This is harassment. You have every right.”
Why am I campaigning for my firing? I should shut up.
“I amnotgoing to fire you, Sofía.” His tone leaves no room for argument. “I need you to stop freaking out.”
“Oh my god, I kissed you, and you didn’t even like it.”
I recognize my descent into madness, but there’s no stopping it now. There’s no list or task I can complete that’s going to make any of this better. And he’s too kind to fire me. I have to quit.
“Who says I didn’t like it?”
“What?”
He leans over the table, his face inches from mine. “Who said I didn’t like the kiss?”
“You liked it?” My tongue darts out to wet my lips.
Jett nods. “A lot, to be honest. I want to do it again.”
His confession rips the air from my lungs. “That would be—”
“Unprofessional,” he finishes. “I think that’s overrated. And if you’re done freaking out, I have a proposition.”
