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Eric followed Olivia inside her building past Clyde at his desk. “Good evening, Miss Bennett. How was the gala? Did you meet your goal?”
“Yes, we did. I won Dr. King.” She smiled.
“Really?” He smiled.
“I got the highest bid,” Eric added.
“And how much would that be, sir?”
“One fifty.” Clyde almost choked. “Good evening, Clyde.”
“Good evening, sir.”
They boarded the elevator and rode up to Olivia’s floor. “Why did you say that?” She stared straight ahead.
“Someone probably already told him.”
“No, good evening. You made it sound like you were spending the night.”
“I’m sure Clyde knows better.”
“Does he?”
“I don’t want him getting the wrong idea.” The elevator stopped. They exited and walked down to her door where they stopped, as usual. “Coming in?”
“No, I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”
“Now you’re mad.”
“I’m not mad.”
“Stop acting like a child and come inside. I’m not going to…I don’t want my neighbor to hear us.”
“What neighbor? I keep hearing about your neighbor, but have yet to see any signs of life other than you on this floor.”
“Stop it.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. She put her bag on the credenza and tried to collect herself. “What is your problem?”
“You.”
“Me.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Why are you acting like this?”
“I’m just responding to you.”
“Meaning?”
“One moment you’re all vulnerable and saying you like me and—-“
She held up her hand. “I never said I liked you.”
“You didn’t have to because your body said otherwise.”
“My body.”
