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I quell him with a squinted glare, quietly saying, “I’m not the type to sleep around, Oliver. No matter what people say. And, in a way, you are my boss, which makes this highly inappropriate.”
I can see the protests rising on his lips he quells them and finally settles on, “I won’t be your boss forever.”
My head snaps toward him. There’s something new in his eyes, something I hadn’t bothered to see before. Interest.
“What are you saying?” I feel uneasy.
He shrugs, not meeting my eyes. “Just pointing it out.”
After a few brief moments of silence, I say slowly, “Right.”
“I’m not in the market for a relationship, Oliver. I’m focused on my career. And if what happened tonight comes out, one of us will have to leave.” I meet his eyes now, my own troubled. “And we both know it will be me.”
I rise, feeling uncomfortably awkward. Mostly, I feel shaken.
“This job is important to me. I can’t sacrifice it. I’m sorry.”
As I step away from him, there’s a flaring pain in my chest. I bite my lip when I reach the door, glancing over my shoulders to see him studying me, his expression inscrutable expression.
He lets me leave.
On the other side of the door, I smile bitterly.
Look at how good I am at ruining things.
7
Oliver
It’s been a week since Lana and I slept together.
A week of polite hellos and averted eyes.
I take it in stride, even though the sting of rejection hasn’t faded.
As I walk into the building, I see Elise sitting behind her desk, her usual smile missing.
“How’re you feeling?” I approach her. A forlorn expression on her face, she lifts her eyes to mine.
“Awful,” she mumbles.
She’s short by stature. Right now, she appears even smaller. I feel a protective urge rise in me. She’s usually so bubbly and happy. To see her like this unnerves me.
Only Lucas, Lana, and I are aware of Elise’s pregnancy, but she’s refused to share any further details—not even with Lana. Lucas hangs around like a mournful puppy that has been kicked, and the dismal atmosphere is starting to get to me.
“It’s not the end of the world, Elise,” I say, trying and failing to sound supportive.
Her eyes widen in shock at my curt tone, so I try to soften it.
“You’re having a child. Knowing you, even only for this brief time, I have a feeling you will be a fantastic mother, so the baby is incredibly lucky.”
There’s a rawness to my tone, a string of hurt I try to suppress.
“Of course I’ll love my baby.” Hands creeping over her flat belly, she appears slightly offended.
“And nobody’s going to fire you because you forgot to use a condom.”
I should really work on my communication skills, I berate myself when her face turns red. However, she just fidgets miserably.
