by A. L. Brooks
Jenny’s jaw clenched; Chrissy was being a little too familiar. Sure, they’d become work friends, but eating off Jenny’s plate? Seriously? “Want me to get you some?” she asked pointedly.
“No, I’m good, I’ll get some in a sec.”
Jenny tilted the plate away from Chrissy, hoping she wasn’t being too obvious. She was ravenous all of a sudden, and the food disappeared in double time.
After wiping her mouth on a napkin, she motioned to Chrissy that she was off to find somewhere to deposit the trash. When she returned, Olivia stood next to Chrissy, and Jenny’s steps faltered as she took in the sight before her.
Olivia looked incredible. The teal, shimmering dress clung in all the right places, but not too closely. Just enough to give a hint of the shapes beneath; the gentle curve of her breasts, her waist, her hips. Her legs—God, those legs—were bare, and the low-heeled sandals she wore made her feet look dainty. Her makeup was subtle, in complete contrast to Chrissy’s, and her hair was held back in a plain mother-of-pearl barrette.
“Hello,” Olivia said politely when Jenny joined them.
“Hi.” Jenny swallowed. Come on, we don’t like her, remember? Stop being all tongue-tied and pathetic.
“The suit looks good on you.” Olivia’s cheeks pinked a little. She took a sip of her wine and looked away.
“Thanks.” Jenny caught Chrissy’s eye, and they both raised their brows. “I’m going to get myself a drink. Be back in a moment.”
Chrissy nodded then turned to start up conversation with Olivia.
It took as long as expected to get served at the bar, but she wasn’t going to complain given all the drinks were, at least for now, free. She took her bottle of Coors back to where Chrissy and Olivia still conversed. Well, if you could call it that. It was more like they threw sentences at each other that in no way connected or elicited the desired response.
“Oh, hi, you’re back!” The relief in Chrissy’s eyes was clear.
They tapped glass to bottle; Olivia obliged too, but awkwardly.
Thankfully, in the next moment, Derek appeared. He carried a bottle of beer and tapped it against each of their drinks. “Nice to see you all here. Maxwell hasn’t made it?”
Jenny shrugged. “He said he would be here. He’s probably talking to someone somewhere.”
Derek nodded, then turned to Olivia and let his gaze wander down the length of her and back up again.
Jenny saw it, and she knew Olivia saw it too because she shifted uncomfortably on the spot. Ugh, what a slime. Jenny had her issues with Olivia, but no woman deserved to be looked at like that by anyone.
There was a small sound to her left, almost a snarl. Chrissy glared at Derek and Olivia. She masked it when Jenny looked at her, but it had been unmistakable: Chrissy was deeply pissed at what Derek had done. Was that solidarity with a fellow woman, or something more?
“Derek, can I talk to you about something?” Chrissy’s tone dripped with sweet syrup.
“Sure.” Derek wrenched his gaze away from Olivia.
“It’s private.” Chrissy’s voice tightened. “Can we step over here?”
He gave her a steely look but followed her anyway.
Chrissy marched them across the room to a darkened corner, and Jenny lost sight of them through the throngs of people.
“I would have thought she’d have better taste than that,” Olivia said, then she seemed to remember Jenny stood alongside her. She drained her glass and made to turn away.
“Hey, Olivia?” Jenny’s voice came out as a croak; she coughed to clear her throat. “I’m sorry about…that.” She gestured in the vague area of where Derek had stood. She was supposed to be not liking Olivia, but after seeing her suffer the lecherous behavior of Derek, she couldn’t let it go unacknowledged.
Olivia blinked. “Oh. Thank you.”
“So, any good plans for the weekend?” Wait, so now I’m doing small talk with Olivia?
Olivia looked equally bemused at Jenny’s need to chat. “Nothing special. My husband won’t be back until late on Monday, so I’ll have the place to myself to be lazy.”
“Nice. Is he away on business?”
Olivia smiled and it transformed her face, leaving Jenny a tad breathless. “He calls it that.” At Jenny’s confused look she laughed, and the sound did weirdly wonderful things to Jenny’s insides. “He races cars. Formula Three. He has his own team, Sinclair Racing. It’s his first season and he’s not done too badly—currently fifth in the standings.”
“Wow, I’m impressed!” I also now have an idea how rich your husband might be. So why are you bumming around doing crappy PA work? “But I guess that means he’s away a lot, right?”
“He is. But we manage.” Olivia’s gaze darted away, then back again. She held up her empty glass. “I feel like another one of these. Do you want another beer?”
“You know, I’m good, actually. Thanks anyway.”
“Okay.” Olivia stared at her for a moment, then walked off toward the bar.
Olivia wasn’t sure what had prompted the change of heart from Jenny, but it had been lovely all the same. An actual conversation, and with laughter too. She never would have believed it based on what had happened earlier in the week. The only downside was, of course, the lying. Necessary but still not sitting right with Olivia, even if it was only Jenny she lied to. Something twisted in her at that thought. Based on the sympathy Jenny had thrown her way after Derek’s behavior, Jenny deserved more respect than Olivia gave her at present.
She finally got to the bar and ordered herself another glass of wine. I ought to eat something too. She’d had no time for lunch, and the first glass of wine had already given her a pleasant buzz. After this second glass. I’ll be fine until then.
As she turned back from the bar, she caught sight of Chrissy and Derek, tucked into a corner. Derek leaned against the wall; Chrissy stood before him. She didn’t look happy. Her face had twisted into an ugly snarl, and she pointed one finger threateningly in his face.
He, in return, looked forlorn and apologetic.
Interesting. It was almost as if it were some lovers’ tiff. She watched them for a moment longer. That is exactly what it looks like. Well, well, well.
She returned to Jenny; there was no one else in the room she knew even remotely better to talk to. And maybe it was time to let down some of her walls and actually make an effort with her colleague. Even if she did have pink hair. She sighed. Even that she couldn’t fault tonight—Jenny looked stunning, pink hair and all. The suit fitted her like a glove, the slim pants working so well with her shapely legs. The androgynous cut of the jacket, combined with her spiky hair, definitely suited her.
Olivia had no doubt Jenny was queer; no woman who wore a suit like that could be anything but. Of course, this realization only disturbed her more. She’d given herself a strong lecture the night before to push thoughts of Jenny out of her head, and she’d been fine all through the day. Until the moment she’d crossed the floor this evening and Jenny had walked toward her wearing that suit and looking so damn delectable in it.
Olivia took a healthy swig of her wine. Come on, you need to get past this. Be friendly colleagues, but nothing more, remember?
Jenny couldn’t decide if she was having a good time or not. On the one hand, the music and food were great. And the drinks were still free, which was a bonus. Still, she’d stuck to light beer all evening—she was now on her fourth—and resisted the temptation of anything stronger. I barely know these people, and the last thing I want them to see just yet is party Jenny. Especially boss man, Derek.
Her gaze landed on him once more. He stood by the bar, holding court with a few other people from production plus some employees from the creative team.
Chrissy stood next to him.
He and Chrissy seemed pretty familiar with each other, in a way Jenny couldn�
��t quite figure out. She wondered if they’d known each other before Chrissy joined C&V. Maybe from a previous company or project, she mused. Somehow, it seemed more than that, though. There were looks between them that almost suggested…intimacy? Ew, no! She shuddered. Seriously, Chrissy and Derek? Dumbest idea ever.
Jenny pulled her gaze away from them and swept it around the room but didn’t see anyone else she could spend time with.
Maxwell had eventually appeared but only stayed for two drinks before leaving again. He’d mentioned something about his mom not being well.
Jenny didn’t know if it was a cover story to get him out of a situation he seemed awkward with or the truth. Somehow, she thought the latter; Maxwell didn’t strike her as the lying kind.
Once he’d left, Jenny was a little stuck on who to talk to. She and Olivia had managed some more polite conversation before Olivia’s attention had been taken away by someone she knew from the marketing team. While Jenny and Olivia had managed to speak whole sentences to each other, it had been pretty awkward. Olivia seemed nervous around Jenny, and Jenny couldn’t shake off the thought of what Olivia had done with the Excelsior photos and notes. She’d been tempted to confront her but knew the middle of the staff party was so not the place to do it. She was therefore kind of relieved when Olivia wandered away with her marketing friend, then cursed herself as she watched her go.
Olivia’s ass moved in unbelievably good ways in that amazing dress.
A few minutes later, Olivia was back by her side. “Hey, you.” Her eyes were glassy. Then she giggled. Actually giggled.
“Hello.” Jenny kept her tone even, cautious. This rapid change in Olivia’s demeanor was unexpected.
“What a great party!” Olivia threw her hands up. Unfortunately, one of them still held a half-glass of white wine, which then sloshed via a high arc onto the floor behind her. She turned around and looked down at the puddle. “Oops.”
“Olivia, are you drunk?”
Olivia swung back around to Jenny and nearly toppled over. She giggled again. “Maybe.” She frowned. “I think I forgot to eat. Today.”
Jenny’s eyes widened. “All day? You haven’t eaten anything all day?” Jeez, and how many wines had she had on top of that empty stomach?
Olivia placed one fingertip on her chin and paused in an exaggerated thinking motion that was kind of adorable. “Correct,” she said, then she hiccupped.
“Maybe you should have something now. And some water.” Jenny took hold of Olivia’s elbow.
Olivia shook her head and then yawned hugely. “Home.” She leaned a little closer and a teasing scent of a light, citrusy perfume reached Jenny’s nose. “Not s’pposed to get drunk.”
“Okay.” Jenny stared at her. “How are you getting home?”
Olivia looked around. “Subway.” She shrugged. “Walk. Don’t mind.”
Holy crap, no way. “How about I get you home? I’m leaving now anyway.” Apparently. “We can go together and I can make sure you get there okay.”
“That’s nice.” Olivia’s eyes were half closed. “You’re never nice to me.”
Jenny flinched but chose not to respond. “Come on, let’s go.” She checked to make sure Olivia’s purse still hung on her shoulder, then carefully placed Olivia’s arm in her own. “This okay?”
Olivia’s beamed. “Charming.”
Jenny gave up any hope of saying goodbye to Chrissy—no way would she drag drunk Olivia over to Derek and the rest of the team. A small part of her brain questioned that decision—what better way to dent Olivia’s reputation with Derek? But she snuffed out the thought at lightning speed. She’d meant what she’d said to Chrissy—she didn’t want to play dirty.
After stumbling their way through the throng to the exit, Jenny walked them over to the opposite side of the street and leaned Olivia against the wall of a darkened building.
“I’m going to order us an Uber, okay?” Jenny said. “But I need your address.” Please don’t live somewhere like Rochester, I can’t afford this as it is.
Olivia blinked a couple times, then rapidly fired off an address.
When Jenny looked it up on Google Maps, she was relieved it wasn’t that far away and also taken aback when she realized what a swanky location it was.
The Uber picked them up ten minutes later, by which time Olivia’s eyes were closed and Jenny essentially held her upright. Olivia’s skin was warm and soft, and Jenny had to fight the urge to stroke the arm she held.
“She drunk?” The driver looked at Olivia with suspicion.
“Only a little. She’s fine, honest.” Jenny gave him her widest smile.
He grunted, then motioned them in.
As soon as they sat in the back seat, Olivia snuggled up against Jenny’s arm and shoulder. “Nice,” she said.
Jenny wondered for the eighth time in the last twenty minutes just what the hell she was doing, but also knew she couldn’t have done anything else. She and Olivia might have their differences, but no way would she let her go home drunk alone. She wrestled Olivia into her seatbelt, then clicked her own in place.
The drive took only ten minutes, which wasn’t bad with Friday-night traffic. The whole time, Olivia rested against Jenny, her warmth and scent making things happen to Jenny that she wasn’t comfortable with but couldn’t seem to stop.
Jeez, even her hair smells amazing. Jenny turned her head and breathed in more of the scent. What the everlasting fuck are you doing? Stop sniffing her hair! She lifted her head away.
The driver pulled them up outside a gorgeous old apartment building with a fancy awning entrance.
Jenny tapped the required keys on her phone to authorize the payment and sent a mental apology to her bank for the extra hit on her almost-maxed credit card. Then she nudged Olivia. “Hey, we’re here.”
Olivia lifted her head, her eyes droopy. “’Kay.” She fumbled with the seatbelt but managed to get it undone.
“Come on, out this side.” Jenny held out her hand. “I’ve got you.”
When Olivia’s warm hand connected with hers, she pushed back the shivery sensation that wanted to run rampant down her spine. Jenny linked their fingers and scooted across the seat to open the door, tugging Olivia behind her.
Amazingly—and without any bumps, trips, or falls—she managed to navigate the pair of them out the cab and onto the sidewalk.
“Good evening, Mrs. Sinclair,” the doorman said as they walked the few steps to the entrance.
“Hey, Marcus!” Olivia attempted to offer her free hand for a high five but only managed to raise it as far as the tall man’s waist.
Marcus’s eyes widened, then he looked at Jenny. “Is she okay?”
Jenny gave him a smile. “A little tipsy. I’m just going to see her to her door. Is that okay?”
He nodded, then held open the heavy wooden door for them.
“Bye, Marcus,” Olivia said as Jenny tugged her past him. “Have a nice night.”
Marcus chuckled behind them. “You too, Mrs. Sinclair.”
Mrs. Sinclair. She’s married, remember? So stop thinking about how wonderful her hand feels in yours and how cute she is right now.
They walked over to the elevators, or rather, Jenny walked and Olivia schlepped along beside her, clinging to Jenny’s hand the whole way. Even when the elevator arrived, Olivia wouldn’t let go.
After stepping inside the car, Jenny made sure Olivia was balanced against the handrail. “Which floor?”
“Top.” Olivia grinned. “Can see the sky.”
Of course, it would be the penthouse. Just how much money has your husband got?
“I’m so hungry.” Olivia smacked her lips.
“I’m not surprised. You got some bread or something else quick and easy you could eat?”
“Peanut butter!” Olivia threw her arms up. “I love peanut butt
er.”
“Great idea. Peanut butter sandwich.”
Olivia placed her fingers on Jenny’s cheek. Given how drunk she was, the touch was surprisingly careful and gentle, and Jenny’s breath caught in her throat at the serious look Olivia sent her way. “Thank you. For looking after me. Feels nice.” Olivia sighed. “Long time since a woman looked after me. Miss it so much.”
Huh?
The elevator dinged its arrival at the top floor.
“Home!” Olivia dropped her hand from Jenny’s face and lurched away from the handrail. She pushed out the doors as they opened, bumping against them and laughing as she stumbled through the ever-widening gap.
Jenny hovered behind her, ready to catch her if she fell; her mind whirled from what Olivia had just said. What the hell did she mean, misses a woman looking after her?
The front door to Olivia’s apartment was a few feet down the hallway from the elevator, on the opposite wall. A quick glance told Jenny there were actually two top-floor apartments, as a second door was situated farther down the hallway in the other direction. Okay, so you don’t live on the entire floor. That’s something, I guess.
Olivia leaned sideways against the wall next to her door and opened her purse. “Keys.” She fumbled around inside the purse.
“Here, let me.” Jenny pulled Olivia’s hands back.
Olivia held them up in surrender. “Take it, it’s all yours.”
Jenny swallowed. “Just need the keys, that’s all.” She tried to grin, but she had trouble working her facial muscles—everything about the last half hour and her reactions to it scrambled her responses.
Her fingers closed on a set of keys and she pulled them out. There were only three, so by process of elimination, it only took thirty seconds to find the right one and fit it in the lock.
“Ta-da!” Olivia cried as the door swung open. “Like magic.”
Jenny rolled her eyes. “It’s just keys, Olivia. Come on, in you go.” She ushered Olivia into the apartment, while she herself remained standing on the doormat outside.