Page 68 of Tell Me What you Think

Olga goes red, but she doesn't look away or try to hide the slight tremble in her hands.

"So—I'll reach out about the meeting and start looking for flights?" she asks.

"Yes, and a hotel. I'd rather not sleep on the street," Marina jokes. "And I don't think I need to tell you you're coming with me."

Olga smiles to herself and starts taking notes.

"It'd be a waste of company money, booking two rooms when we're only going to use one," Olga says, and Marina stands and leans against the table beside her, looking down at her.

"It turns me on so much when you get that brazen—seriously, it doesn't suit you at all and it's incredibly sexy," she confesses quietly.

Olga stifles a laugh and gets to her feet, cheeks burning, practically floating with happiness when Marina lays a hand on the small of her back to let her through the door first.

Chapter 26

Olga steps out of the subway and the wind cuts through her coat so hard that for a moment she feels like she's wearing nothing underneath. She shivers and her teeth chatter for a second before her body starts adjusting to the change in temperature.

When Marina opens the door to her apartment, she's barefoot and finishing up a call with her mom.

"Come in," the host whispers with a smile that sends a couple of spasms through Olga's stomach.

Marina closes the door, tells her mom she'll call back in a couple of days, and finally says goodbye.

"Hey." Her smile shifts, and the color rises in Olga's cheeks immediately.

"Hey, I'm a little late, I'm sorry, the subway—"

Olga can't finish her apology because Marina grabs her by the coat, pushes her against the wall, and kisses her with everything she's been holding back all week. And that's the end of whatever Olga was going to say, because her mind goes blank and her body forgets about the cold. Marina cups her face in both hands, and Olga's hands are already slipping under her sweater when the intercom buzzes and makes them both jump.

"Damn," Marina mutters against her mouth, her pulse still racing.

"Are you—are you expecting someone?" Olga stammers, her legs unsteady.

"Dinner," Marina groans, with a dramatic sigh that makes the assistant laugh as she rests her forehead against Olga's and reaches for the intercom.

Olga laughs, presses her hands to her cheeks—which feel like they're about to burst—and then bends down to pick up her bag, which she hadn't even noticed had slipped off her arm.

They both got out of the office late. Marina had just enough time to get home, shower, and call in the dinner order before her mom rang. For Olga it was similar: she went to her apartment, showered, grabbed the backpack with a couple changes of clothes she'd packed the night before, and headed out to catch the subway.

"I ordered sushi—I didn't have time to think and I know you like it. I would've loved to cook something, but…" Marina sighs, exhausted.

Lately they've been working until very late, and she always drags herself home.

"Don't worry, sushi is perfect," Olga says with a smile.

They don't even bother setting the big table; they're both so wiped out that they eat at the small one, sitting on the couch.

"Your apartment is really beautiful," Olga says, looking around.

"Thank you."

Marina glances at her living room. She's not a professional decorator, but she has a good eye and she likes to change things up every so often, especially in this space, where she spends most of her time at home.

"Oh, by the way—I wrapped up the Lisbon arrangements before I left." Olga wipes her mouth with her napkin and pauses to take a sip of white wine—Marina's favorite, and one she's slowly becoming addicted to herself. "I've got the flights and the reservation, and the meeting got pushed to noon instead of eleven, which is actually better because at least we'll be able to stop by the hotel and drop off our bags."

"What time does the flight leave?"

"Um—" Olga tries to remember. "Wednesday at seven fifteen. We'll have to get up early."