Page 55 of Tell Me What you Think

"Yes." She lights up. "I'll tell you all about it later. Do you want me to grab you a coffee or something from the machine? Have you eaten?"

Marina looks at her watch like time has been moving so fast she's lost track of what hour she's in.

"Get me a coffee, please. And something to eat — whatever."

"You haven't eaten! Why didn't you say something sooner?" Olga blurts, horrified, standing up so fast that a brief wave of dizziness almost sends her back down into the chair.

"I didn't have time even for that."

"Go sit down. I'll be right back."

Olga rushes down the hallway like her life depends on it and heads out of the building to a Subway where she's picked up sandwiches for her boss before. It has started to rain and the cold is brutal — she didn't even stop to grab her coat — but Olga doesn't care, she just half-runs to get to the store. She picks the tuna one because she knows it's Marina's favorite, and grabs a giant chocolate chip cookie too — Marina has never asked for one, but she thinks something sweet might do her good right now. On the way back, she crosses the street to the bar across from the office to order the coffee. It's not particularly good coffee, but it's a lot better than what comes out of the machine in the hallway.

She rides the elevator up with damp clothes and damp hair, eyes fixed on the floor numbers, thinking that every day feels a little slower than the last. She rushes out again and arrives at Marina's office out of breath. Her boss is already in front of her laptop with her headphones in, talking to Duarte or some other company partner. Olga doesn't pay attention to who — she just moves to Marina's side, staying out of the camera's frame, and sets the coffee in front of her while unwrapping the sandwich and laying it open on the paper with a couple of napkins. She sets the cookie down last.

"Thank you, Olga," Marina says, looking up at her with those blue eyes full of gratitude, and Olga smiles back and nearly trips over the desk as she turns to leave.

She catches Marina's crooked grin out of the corner of her eye and curses herself fifteen times for still being such a klutz, but when she sits down at her desk, she can't wipe the smile off her face — knowing she's done something good for her boss on what looks like a truly awful day has lit something warm in her chest, like someone struck a match inside her.

The next hour is much better because Olga accompanies Marina to the meeting with the tax department to take notes while Marina requests documentation, listens to explanations, and asks for data she wants but isn't seeing on screen. By the time they finally leave, it's nearly seven in the evening, and Marina is so drained she doesn't say a word until they reach her office and she sees Olga heading toward her own desk.

"What are you doing?"

Olga blinks and straightens up before she even fully sits down.

"I'm going to type up the meeting notes," she says, biting her lip.

"Leave it for tomorrow. Come in, and close the door behind you, please."

Marina crosses the threshold, sets her laptop on the desk, and perches on the edge of it, because she has no intention of doing any more work. Olga closes the door and walks over, stopping in front of her boss.

"Okay, tell me — how did it go with Andrea?"

Olga smiles with relief, and Marina is hit with a strange, dizzying feeling when, for just a moment, she thinks that smile is because of the lawyer.

"I'll make it quick so you can go home and rest. Marc is dropping it. I just need to transfer the deed and the whole thing is behind me."

"Really?" Despite the exhaustion, Marina's eyes light up and she sits up straight.

"Yes, really," Olga answers, with a little laugh that makes her voice come out slightly high-pitched.

"God, Olga, I'm so happy for you."

Marina reaches out an arm to pull her in, and Olga doesn't hesitate — she presses against her and lets her boss hold her tight, burying her face in the curve of Marina's neck and closing her eyes, overwhelmed by the warmth and the current running through her from head to toe.

"Now you can actually sleep at night. I really am so glad," Marina continues, pulling back a little to look her in the eyes, but one of her hands stays at Olga's waist while the other rises toward her face and hovers there, suspended, as if Marina meant to brush away the strand of hair crossing Olga's forehead and then thought twice.

They hold each other's gaze, and all the noise of the office disappears at once, leaving only the unsteady breath that escapes Olga's lips and the soft sound they make when Marina leans in and kisses her. The kiss is almost as brief as the one Olga had stolen what feels like a lifetime ago, and all Olga wants to do is jump for joy — certain that this is the best day of her life.

They each take a step back at the same time, and although Olga searches Marina's face for regret, or the inevitable "this can't happen again" or "this was a mistake," she finds none of it. Marina doesn't look sorry — because she isn't — or even scared, and all she does is study Olga's face, which for once is nearly purple from the shock, but her eyes are shining brighter than ever.

"Are you going to tell me to ignore this one too? To forget about it?" the vice president asks, not moving.

Olga wishes she'd worn pants with pockets so she could hide her hands, which won't stop trembling.

"Uh… No, I don't think so," she finally says.

Marina's eyebrow goes up.