Office Hate: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Rachel Van Dyken

  I went from what felt like a comfortable sex goddess and hateful enemy to this nervous school girl as I stood next to him, waiting for Max to make his appearance.

  So far? All I felt was a bit of fear.

  A huge banner stood out above the field we were standing in that read, “I am Sparta.”

  There were people in the stands, at least two hundred friends and family members of Max, and a dozen cameras that we were told were filming the proceedings for company morale for the many employees around the world who couldn’t be here.

  Made sense.

  But still intimidating.

  And to make everything worse?

  Mark smelled like hot sex guy.

  And if there was one thing I had trouble saying no to? It was hot sex guy. He went from this guy I wanted to strangle despite his good looks to this funny partner in crime that gave orgasms out like candy during a parade.

  Wait, horrible example.

  The way he held me, kissed, teased—I’d never had sex the way he had sex and was now starting to realize just how addicting being in the same space as Mark was. Which again, huge problem, because I found myself smiling, thinking about him, wanting to touch him, only to wonder when the other shoe would drop, when he’d say, “Ha ha, leading you on. I WIN.”

  And wondering if he was thinking the same thing about me.

  See? I should be thinking about winning the game, whatever the hell that was going to be, and instead, I was worried about him!

  I stomped my foot.

  “Everything okay up there?” Mark pointed at my head. He wore a sexy red bandana tied around his head, his longer hair spilling over and falling across his forehead. And his lips… of course, they had to be swollen from punishing mine!

  “Yeah, yeah, sure, just, nervous…” I rocked back on my black Nike tennis shoes and tried not to panic at the fact that we were told by the judges our outfits needed to be tight in order to not get caught in the race.

  Race being the keyword.

  “We shall die here,” Mark said under his breath as a group of six employees came out paired into twos. They looked like they ate small children for breakfast, never missed leg day, and carb-loaded just because they could.

  “No body fat,” I whispered. “Is that a twelve-pack?”

  “Avert your eyes!” Mark put a hand over my face. “He’s too old for you!”

  “He has gray hair!” I pulled his hand away. “Can’t I at least be impressed that he’s so big? Wait, he works here?”

  The girl standing next to him was like this tall Amazonian woman with sleek black hair, a black sports bra, tiny shorts, and tennis shoes that made me think of the Jolly Green Giant!

  “They all look…big.” Mark gulped.

  “We’re competing against them,” I announced. “And we have to win. Whatever hate’s between us right now or desire to win against one another, we can’t lose this, Mark! We can’t!” Panic started taking over as my eyes took in the giants standing around us. “We’ll have speed on our side, take in your height, mine—”

  “The hell? I’m six-two. Did you just call me short?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, have you not taken in Andre the Giant over there standing next to She Ra? If not, I’ll wait!” I threw my arms up.

  “Who’s She-Ra?”

  I gasped. “You’re dead to me!”

  “I was kidding. I take hot women from comic books and TV shows very seriously, as should the rest of the world. Didn’t Netflix re-up the show? I think I saw something about that—”

  I cupped a hand over his mouth. “Know your audience. Not the time, Mark!”

  His eyes flashed as I pulled my hand away. “Damn, you’re sexy when you’re competitive,” He tugged at my shorts, his fingers digging against my naked skin. “We should wash these…together…while still clothed. In the shower…”

  I swayed toward him then jerked back. “Stop that! It’s distracting.”

  “So are you.” He winked.

  “That too! That wink needs to stop. We have to focus on something other than taking each other’s clothes off, and I swear if you have some sort of STD, I’m killing you in your sleep. We haven’t even been—” It occurred then how truly dumb I’d been. “Oh God! We’ve been having unprotected sex!”

  I may have shouted it.

  The cameras may have caught it.

  And I suddenly wondered if there were mics because the audience semi-gasped all before their attention was drawn to the announcer; of course, Max Emory, decked out in his own red joggers, shirtless with an impressive and tanned body, standing next to a gorgeous woman who gave us a little wave like she was on our team.

  At least one person was!

  “Are you not entertained?” Max said again for the crowds.

  I shuddered.

  “Hey.” Mark elbowed me. “I’m clean, all right? I haven’t been with a girl since my last checkup, if you must know…and it’s been…a bit long. Plus, I’m assuming you’re on birth control. You’re a smart girl, which also makes me an idiot for not checking, so I’m sorry. You’re right, it was really, really dumb…” He hung his head like he was disappointed in himself, instantly making me feel bad.

  I scowled. “Of course, I’m on birth control, and how long?”

  His head snapped up. “Pardon?”

  “How long since… you know…”

  Max started introducing everyone. “Not really the time, Olivia…” His teeth clenched.

  “Don’t make me throw the birth control out and trap you into marriage, Mark. How long!”

  Again semi-silence.

  Weird.

  “Twelve months, eleven days and…” He coughed out another number, but I didn’t catch it since music picked up on the loudspeakers. “Shit.”

  “Today, our three teams will be competing against our new interns in everyone’s favorite test of endurance, mental fortitude, strength, and most of all, teamwork!”

  The crowds cheered.

  “The winners,” Max said into the microphone, gaining everyone’s silence and rapt attention, “will each receive honor and the ability to call themselves champions!”

  “That’s it?” Mark said under his breath.

  “Oh!” Max laughed. “And did I forget to mention? Two brand new cars courtesy of Reid Emory. His donation’s a favorite every year. God, I love my brother, unless he’s being a jackass, which is at least half the time, thus me forcing him to donate cars every year.” He grinned. “But I digress. If our interns win, they will both be awarded a whopping hundred points. If they lose and also fail to understand the true meaning of teamwork…points will be retracted from their overall score, and they’ll be headed to the losers’ room for the evening.”

  “Losers’ room?” I hissed. “What the hell is the losers’ room?”

  “We are literally primed to lose!” Mark added. “I don’t take steroids, which already puts those idiots at an advantage.”

  “There will be a judge at each station, enjoy your mile trek through the land of Sparta, and remember, only the smart survive.”

  “We’re smart,” I encouraged. “We’ve got this.”

  “I hate my truck.”

  “I hate my car.”

  We looked at each other, high-fived, and walked toward the start line.

  Max held up a horn and counted. “Three, two, one, go!”

  I charged ahead and then realized that Mark’s shoe was untied and nearly killed him on the spot as I yelled his name. “Mark, hurry!”

  “Sorry!” He ran after me as we caught up to the rest of the group.

  “Do you see the first challenge?” he called.

  I blinked over at where the contestants stopped in front of a large target.

  “Hatchet throwing!” Mark came up behind me. “Let me start; I practiced this in college.”

  “For what reason?” I yelled.

  “Um, fun?” He threw the first, hitting a direct bull’s-eye.

  The judges kept yelling,
“Three hits and run on.”

  “Also, they had cheap beer.”

  “There it is.” I crossed my arms as he threw the third one.

  Direct hit.

  We were already past two teams when we came to an entire pool full of mud.

  “Go through the mud!” a judge yelled. “The only way out is in!”

  “Off we go!” I jumped in, and Mark followed as our clothes started to drag off of us. In an effort to get the heavy weight away from my body, I dumped my shirt, only keeping on my sports bra.

  “Damn.”

  “Do not get distracted!” I yelled behind me.

  “No, not that,” Mark yelled again. “That!”

  He pointed to a giant rope ladder with a pool on the other side that looked like you had to jump into once you reached the top.

  “That’s twenty feet!” I screeched.

  “What? Can’t swim?” he teased.

  The other two teams were gaining on us. “Come on!” I reached for his hand as we started climbing the ladder, using our speed against the strong ones who seemed to be gassing really early.

  Mark reached the top first and held down his hand. I took it and wobbled on top, looking down, ready to pass out.

  “Hey, hey,” Mark whispered so only I could hear. “You’ve got this. You’ve been wanting to drown me for years. Think of failing this as a missed opportunity.”

  “Well, now that you say—”

  He gave me a little shove, and off I went from the platform into the deep water. From the splash as I pushed to the surface, Mark had followed.

  I didn’t have any time to follow through on my threat, but the minute we got back to the apartment I was turning on the bathtub and shoving his head under the water until his legs stopped moving.

  “Come on.” Mark swam across to the other side and reached back to help me as I threw my wet body over the pool and nearly collapsed to the ground. “Almost there.”

  “I hope so.” Pulling air into my lungs was getting difficult as we raced along a dark dirt road lit with torches.

  Finally, we got to the end, where it said Finish Line.

  “Thank God.”

  I spoke too soon.

  Without any warning, several men came out of the clearing, wearing the freakiest masks I’d ever seen in real life. They were clowns and monsters; it was like Halloween come to life and the most random thing I’d ever seen.

  “Mental fortitude,” Mark cursed. “They’re blocking the finish line, which means we need a way to get around them.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “If we go through them, they catch us, and the others go past us.” He started looking around wildly and then grabbed my hand as we raced into the woods where there was a clearing and then a giant tree with a rope swing.

  “Wait a minute, you want us to Tarzan into the finish line?” I screeched. “Like through the air?”

  “Do you have any better idea?”

  I was terrified of heights.

  I didn’t want to admit it.

  Couldn’t.

  Then again, I mean, he’d passed out from snake meat!

  Shaking, I followed him toward the tree ladder and was thankful to at least see several judges and a volunteer near the top with harnesses. Okay, so this wasn’t going to be as bad as I thought.

  And then we reached the top.

  Assuming we grabbed the rope, I reached for it only to have the judge shake his head, “Sorry, princess, you’re only halfway; let’s get this harness on you!”

  I had no time to think.

  Or cry.

  I just let them put the harness and all the other gadgets on me, along with a helmet.

  “You go first.” Mark pointed to the rungs that led the rest of the way up, “That way, I’m behind you, so you’re not scared.”

  “I’m not scared,” I said super unconvincingly.

  “Okay.” He shot me a sweet smile. “So climb.”

  I forced a smile back and nearly slipped when my wet hands hit the rungs. Tears filled my eyes as I climbed and climbed and climbed only to reach the final platform and see that there were four total all in posts surrounding the finish line, and we were barely in first place when we both made it to the top.

  What I thought was a rope swing was something completely different; a zip line led all the way across the finish line to what looked like a buffet and beer garden.

  And there was only one way down.

  “Ready?” One of the volunteers tapped my helmet, then hooked my carabiner to the line and did the same to Mark as he grabbed me from behind. “All right, you’re both strapped in.”

  “Wait!” I screamed. My eyes were dizzy as I took in the hard ground below us. We were at least sixty feet up, it felt like, maybe more? I’d been semi-terrified of jumping off the platform into the water and probably would have hesitated more had Mark not pushed me.

  But now?

  Now I had to friggin’ jump!

  “Olivia, we have to go!” Mark grabbed me tighter.

  “I can’t!” I started moving backward.

  “Just listen,” Mark’s mouth was right at my ear. “Don’t focus on anything else but me holding you, okay? Close your eyes; it’s an adventure. When we reach the bottom, it automatically stops us like brake, all right?”

  “No.” I felt the tears start to well. “I’m so sorry, Mark, I can’t, I can’t do this.” I don’t know if it was the stress, the actual failure, or the fact that I was being held by my once enemy that I now had confusing emotions toward and was terrified of so many other things like failing after college, but I lost it.

  Mark sighed and slowly pulled us back to the platform.

  Whatever we once had between us was gone now, wasn’t it? Because I couldn’t jump. Maybe that had always been my problem. Where Mark jumped and hoped he didn’t fail. I jumped only when I knew I wouldn’t.

  I sat back onto his lap as I heard the first team hit the finish line with a giant sound of crazy music and cheers.

  And then the other.

  And then the other.

  Then silence.

  Mark was rubbing my back in slow circles. “It’s okay, Olivia.”

  “It’s not okay!” I snapped. “I made us lose all because I couldn’t jump off a stupid thing, and now who knows what’s going to happen to us!”

  His smile was sad. “You didn’t make us lose anything. You tried really hard, and you got scared. I really don’t want to have to remind you about the snake incident and dream building a bed frame, but if I must, I must.”

  I turned my head into his chest in a combo of a laugh-cry as he held me closer and kissed my forehead. “We all have fears. What’s important is we face them, even if that means we pass out and embarrass ourselves in front of pretty girls and look like idiots.”

  “Aw, you said it, so I didn’t have to!” I held him tighter.

  Our eyes locked as he whispered. “As much as I used to hate you, do you ever think I’d let you fall?”

  “You never hated me.” I cupped his chin as a final tear fall onto our clasped hands. “Did you?”

  “Only because I couldn’t have you,” he finally said. “Now, before I make you cry again for being so damn nice and honest. and hot, let’s not forget hot.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You were doing so well.”

  “It’s like a sickness. Honestly, I can’t explain it.” He shook his head. “Why don’t we face your fear like you attempted to help me last night before knocking myself out and jump.”

  He was being so sweet.

  So honest.

  Why did he have to suddenly become the knight when I really needed him to still be the troll that kept me from going across the bridge into my employment promised land?

  “Only if you go with me and don’t push me…” I stood on wobbly legs.

  “Always.” He grinned. “We’re ready now, sir.”

  “But the competitions over.” He looked between us. “Are you sure?”

&n
bsp; “Y-yes.” I got the word out like a nervous kid standing in front of a million people at a spelling bee who forgot how to spell cat. “We’re ready.”

  “All right.” He double-checked our equipment. “But remember, the choice to jump off the platform has to be yours.”

  The way he said it hit me.

  The choice has to be mine.

  Not Mark’s.

  Not my parents’.

  Not anyone’s but mine.

  “I need you to count down from three,” I called back to Mark. “And hold me as tight as humanly possible.”

  “Counting might be hard with such a high number.” He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed. “But holding you tight…I can do that, Olivia. All you have to do is ask.”

  “Stop being sweet. It’s creepy!”

  “Stop being cute. It’s distracting.”

  My smile was a huge, terrifying thing as he counted down from three, and when he said one, I jumped, on my own, with Mark behind me holding on for dear life.

  I thought nobody would be watching.

  That they’d already be celebrating and enjoying their beer and stupid food, but instead, it was like they were waiting for us as I took in all the lights, the torches, the crowds, and the cheers that went up.

  My stomach nearly dropped out of my body, but the feeling of being free was worth it as we made it to the bottom and jolted to a stop near another small platform.

  The volunteers unhooked our equipment and congratulated us.

  Which was a bit weird.

  “You did it!” Mark pulled me in for a hug just as Max approached sans microphone smiling like we’d just won instead of lost.

  “Good job, team.” He slapped Mark hard enough on the back to dislodge a rib and then turned to me. “I’m very proud of you guys. You finished the race even though you had no reason to.”

  “Proud?” I repeated. “But Max, we lost?”

  “Some of the best things in life are gained…by losing.”

  Confessional 2

  Max

  “So you seem excited that they lost?” Rick asked once we were in front of the cameras doing another confessional. “Tell us why.”

  I stared him down. “Isn’t it obvious? They had the best teamwork. He didn’t care about winning; he cared about her, specifically more than I would like two employees to care for each other in front of others.”