No! Both my heart and my head were in agreement, but I didn’t realize until that moment that you can want something with every part of you, but if that something doesn’t want you back—it doesn’t matter what your body is telling you.
It’s a no.
And always will be.
I staggered back and realized with amazing clarity that I did hate her; I hated her for not loving me. I hated her for not choosing me. I hated her for making me feel like a fucking emotional psychopath.
I hated her still.
Maybe my hate never truly went away; maybe it just stayed hidden under a masterful plan of seduction on her part or a stupid TV show that made me vulnerable.
One thing I knew.
My hate would never leave.
Sometimes, it’s the only emotion we can hold onto without fear of it letting go of us.
So I held tight.
“I’m ready,” I heard myself say.
And then I was looking at her for what felt like the last time. Counting the tears as they streamed down her face.
Hating every last one for proving to me she felt something—anything other than what she was showing.
One day I’d be back in this office.
One day I’d prove to her that I was successful without her love—that I was successful with my hate fueling me.
Yes. I’d be back.
And I’d own the world.
“Mark,” Olivia called after me. “We’re young, try to un—”
“Understand?” I spat, looking over my shoulder. “Understand this. I. Hate. You.”
Funny how in college, it was her spewing hate at me.
Post-college, it was me walking away hating her.
Maybe in Hell, we’d find our love.
Crazier things have happened.
I was numb the entire walk to the SUV, to the fancy car that led me to my future, and during my flight to my dream job, I didn’t think about what I could buy with the money I’d make or about who I would date, where I would live.
I thought about her face.
And cursed her until I fell asleep.
Chapter Eighteen
Olivia
I watched him go.
I let him walk away.
I wanted to scream at him. We’re immature twenty-two-year-olds who were given an amazing opportunity.
We had sex on a dryer, for shit’s sake!
Love?
At our age?
It didn’t happen, and even if it did, was it worth risking everything to pursue? A steady job? Income? It was like he’d had no clue that I came from “the perfect household.” Two parents who adored each other so much that they literally forgot to pay bills. My dad even at one point decided to start his own business just so he could be home more with my mom. There was a constant saying of, all we need is love while they looked into each other’s eyes, only to forget that dinner wasn’t even ready. I loved my parents. I did. I just didn’t want to become like them, so blinded by someone else that I forgot about responsibilities or didn’t take my career seriously. To them, love was all that mattered. To me? Stability.
A job was sometimes all that kept a person from breaking.
And I couldn’t afford to break.
No matter how much my heart was already breaking.
He said he hated me.
And now I needed to bury my love for him. And hate him back, cling to it, let it fuel me for what was ahead.
“You ready?” Dustin held out his hand, showing me the way to the promised land, and I walked.
I didn’t like it.
I hated every second.
Which made me hate Mark even more.
Damn him!
Or maybe it was myself I hated, as I never looked back and walked into my future.
Chapter Nineteen
Olivia
Five Years Later
I was nervous as hell as I sat in that stupid conference room, wondering what the hell the fuss was all about. I’d finally gotten promoted to VP of Marketing, which had been my dream job, except it gave me absolutely no social life for five years.
Oh, I went on blind dates. Amelia and Ryker had basically shoved me out their door one night and said, “Have fun!”
I half expected and, let’s be honest, wanted it to be Mark on the other end. Instead, it was a man twice my age who keep leering at my breasts and combing his hair at the table—what hair he had.
He’d ordered lobster, and all I’d done was thought about Max’s tirade about lobster, which of course made me think about Mark, and…
Who was I kidding? I always thought of him.
I hated that man.
Hated that every time I heard a woman whisper about how hot the new VP of Hospitality in California was, like a supermodel… my teeth clenched, and my chest hurt.
The damn man’s face was in every marketing campaign. I would know because I was the one who had to do all of the marketing materials with my team.
I hadn’t seen him in person once, thank God. The LA team took care of all the shoots, but every single time I saw his smiling face as I approved ad proofs, I wondered what our kids would have looked like. Which was dumb.
I wondered how he was doing.
I wanted to pick up my phone, only to realize I never even had his cell number! I didn’t want to go through any corporate channels; that just seemed a bad idea. And when I asked Ryker for it, he outright said “he hates you, not a good idea.”
So yeah, five years later and back to square one.
Well, two could play that game!
I saw pictures of him schmoozing up to women at events in LA, heard the chatter of who he was dating—the last one was a supermodel that used to do the Victoria Secret fashion show, and man did my hate grow to epic proportions, and yet I wanted to say TOLD YOU SO!
I’d been right to accept the job. He’d moved on just like I predicted; now he had a stable career that somehow managed to make him a celebrity.
And I had…
A nice apartment.
A car.
A dog that loved me no matter what.
A goldfish that ignored me.
An empty fridge.
And blind dates while Ryker and Amelia had twins, an adorable house in the suburbs, and a tree.
God, I was jealous of that stupid tree!
I’d even gone as far as to get one of those Japanese garden things you have to comb and tend to.
And then I bought a Chia Pet.
Then another.
Then I realized I was turning into the crazy cat lady only with Chia Pets, which had to be worse since one day I found myself talking to them. In my defense, I was extremely drunk, by myself, see? It’s pretty much worse!
Talking ceased around the meeting.
Good, finally.
I took a long sip of my coffee as Max walked in, rubbing the shoulders of some hotshot, and out my coffee went.
All over the table.
And over Kevin’s white shirt. Oh, he too hated me, but only because I got the promotion and he didn’t.
He wiped at his shirt and glared.
“Uh yes, glad you’re excited, Olivia!” Max said loudly. “Everyone, I’m sure this man doesn’t need an introduction! One of the youngest VP’s in our Santa Monica office and now the newest President of Marketing!”
No.
Nope.
The universe wasn’t that mean.
Was it?
My gaze slid around the room, seeking blinking red lights. Were we on a television show again?
Was I being pranked.
Wait one hot minute.
Oh shit! I nearly spit out another sip of coffee.
That made Mark, the guy I hated, loved, then hated, and slept with on every surface in one of the company apartments we were marketing again and refurbishing.
MY. BOSS!
Noooooooooooooo!
I sat in pissed-off silence as Max waxed on and on and—wait a second. Movement near his ch
est caught my eye. Did he have a gecko in his pocket?
The hell?
How was Little G even alive still?
I swear that damn gecko smirked at me then hid back in his suit pocket all before Max grinned and pointed at me as people started clapping.
Yup, missed another announcement. I looked around with a watery smile. How was this my life?
“So!” Max rubbed his hands together.
I would not look at Mark. I would not look at Mark; I would not—damn me to Hell that man was fine.
He’d filled out in all the right places.
Broad shoulders.
Big, just everywhere, don’t stare at his crotch, do NOT stare this crotch, wait, was he aroused?
I frowned and kept staring.
Max cleared his throat. “Er, Olivia?”
My head whipped up. “Yes, sir, sorry what was that?”
“Someone get her some more coffee.” He laughed awkwardly.
Everyone joined in.
Officially the worst Monday meeting of my life.
Thanks, Mark!
Mark put a hand on Max’s shoulder. “I’ll explain.”
Yes, please mansplain to me how to do my job. The dick!
“Olivia.” His voice was deeper, his jaw so square I wanted to cut cheese with it. Wait, what? How were his eyes more blue? His smile more magnetic? I’d had my mouth on that and walked in the other direction? Had I been possessed?
“Yes, Mark?” I tried to sound confident, but my voice was barely a whisper, as if I was in my own sex tape, begging him to take me across the conference table. In front of everyone.
“Our team’s in charge of the refurbishments of the rest of the penthouses at Emory’s main boutique hotel, Emory Towers; you remember the one?”
Oh, I was going to strangle him with his tie!
And it was too pretty to wrinkle.
“Yup, remember it quite well, actually,” I said smoothly. “As I recall, the bathrooms were a bit subpar, the lighting, not super… shall we say…flattering to small things.”
His eyes flashed.
Point Olivia!
“Yeah, I also recall that the rooms were somewhat frigid, unresponsive if you get my meaning? And some of those beds, wow no heat at all, it was almost like, you were sleeping with a ghost, right?”
I clenched my teeth. “Exactly, and don’t even get me started on the dryers…”
Mark actually choked, then coughed. “Yes well, we won’t need to worry about marketing the dryers, though I’m sure you’d be exceptional at it, considering all your time with them.”
My pencil snapped in half.
His grin grew. “So shall we get started?”
“Now?” I asked.
Max laughed. “Okay then, she’s just a bit tired, you know, working all those late nights, having no social life, and basically sleeping at work.”
Leave it to Max to sell you out right under the table.
“For your company.” I pointed out. “And it’s a joy.”
“You threatened to light Roger on fire last week,” Max deadpanned. “For refusing to fold the—okay, you know what, fresh starts! Let’s let our fantastic duo come up with some marketing ideas for the penthouses, and we’ll be off!”
Yes, let’s.
Chapter Twenty
Mark
We rode in a Town Car together.
You know those really awkward movie scenes where both people are staring straight ahead, barely breathing, and refuse to even touch legs?
That was Olivia and me on a severely painful level.
And the worst part?
I still wanted her.
I’d tried not to.
I’d tried everything, but therapy, which Max suggested would be the only way to get over her. He had this whole twelve-step program planned out that ended up landing me in prison—twice. Suffice to say, I stopped taking his advice when he told me I’d feel better if I talked to Hades, and when I told him I didn’t believe in the underworld, he whistled, and an honest to God goat came strolling out with a collar on and red eyes.
Those eyes peered into my soul.
It was the creepiest thing I’d ever seen in my entire life.
I don’t even remember running out of his penthouse. His poor wife had been making us dinner once again, and I heard her utter, “Really Max, again?”
Apparently, that was normal for them.
I shuddered and brought myself back to the present.
“Everything okay?” I asked smoothly.
Olivia sighed and looked out the window. “You’re doing well.”
“As are you.”
“How’s the supermodel girlfriend?”
“How would you even know if I have a girlfriend, checking up on the guy you slept with, abandoned, and now hate? Or just morbid curiosity since I got the president job and you didn’t?”
She scowled. “It’s not about that.”
“Isn’t it, though?”
“You walked away too!” She turned to me, all rage and perfection. Her hair was a blunt cut, darker, so dark and shiny I wanted to weave my fingers into it to feel the silk, her eyes a crystal blue, her full lips painted with a pink lipstick I wanted on every part of my body.
Five years.
Five damn years.
And I still felt ready to rip her clothes off.
But it was more than that.
I wanted everything this time.
Take no prisoners.
She was mine.
I was hers.
And well, since Max promoted me and I moved back, it seemed like the right time. Actually, everything weirdly fell into place, even selling my apartment, which was weird since it was such a high price point I was told it would take a while.
Now that I thought about it…
“Hellooooo…” Olivia waved in front of my face. “We’re here.”
“Sorry, I was thinking.” I nodded toward her chest. “Maybe button that top one more button, so men don’t stare; that’s not how we do business at Emory Enterprises.”
She looked ready to throat punch me, and honestly, I wanted her to take it down a few buttons, but that would be grounds for sexual harassment, so I looked away and got out of the car.
She followed, and up both of our heads went as we eyed the building that used to be our home back when we were interns.
It was eerie being back.
And as we stepped onto the elevator and hit the first level Penthouse button—the one we’d lived in, my cock literally sprang to life like it was returning home.
Damn it.
I turned away from her but could still smell her perfume as she sighed in annoyance next to me.
“So.” I gulped, turning back. “I hear Amelia and Ryker have hellions for children.”
She smiled a real smile. “They’re exhausting, but I love them.”
“Ah, so you can love something, good to know.”
“Could you not?” She glared.
I just grinned, loving her every reaction down to the way she swallowed when she was angry.
I was in deep.
I walked carefully as to not impale myself on a potted plant and make the situation worse, thankful she refused to even look at me since she’d get an eyeful as we made it to the door and shoved the key in.
“The paint’s new,” was the first thing she said.
“Yup.” I stood awkwardly. “And the, uh, lighting, they fixed what we asked.”
“Totally.” She rocked back on her heels as we slowly made our way around the apartment, stopping at the master bedroom. “After you.”
“No after you, I insist,” I motioned for her to go through.
“No, no, you first.” She laughed nervously.
“Fine.” I swallowed the lump of emotion and trepidation in my throat and walked in.
Behind me, she gasped. “It’s the same headboard.”
“I still don’t remember building it. I blacked out.”
“Bla
me the snakes.” She laughed.
I joined in, and then we were both reminiscing about everything as we walked through the master into the bathroom, past a new dryer, and back into the kitchen.
“It was intense but fun,” I finally said.
“You see the new interns?” she asked.
I rolled my eyes. “Child’s play. Can you imagine someone being afraid of a little obstacle course?”
“Never.” She laughed.
And just like that, we were back.
The tension was so thick it was hard to breathe, and like the ghost from Christmas past, the doorbell rang.
We both jumped and said in unison. “Classic conditioning.”
“Is that why he brings bells to meetings?” she asked.
“Holy shit!” I slammed the counter with my hand. “I wondered why I started sweating and almost cried that one time—”
“You almost cried.”
“Long story, you don’t get to hear it.” I jabbed a finger at her as she opened the door and frowned.
On the floor were a bottle of wine, two glasses, and another manila envelope.
“When will it end?” I asked no one in general.
“I wonder if that’s just how he runs penthouses, through fear and foreboding. Live in this gorgeous building, I’ll give you the world, but remember when the devil, aka Max, calls, you’re gonna shit your pants.” She laughed.
I joined in and grabbed a glass from her. The wine was already uncorked, so both of us poured a glass and stared at the envelope.
“I almost don’t want to open it,” she whispered.
“What? Why?” I reached for it.
She grabbed my hand and stopped me. “Because.” Tears filled her eyes. “It feels like it’s really over if we do. I don’t want, I can’t—”
I’d never seen Olivia cry so hard in my entire life.
Ever.
She wasn’t a crier.
But suddenly, she was in my arms.
And I was kissing her tears.
And then she was pulling my tie loose at the same time I was jerking up her skirt.
“This is crazy,” I muttered between hungry kisses.
“I love you,” she whispered against my neck, her mouth pressed there where it belonged, where it had always belonged. “I thought we were too young, I thought that I wouldn’t have security or money that we’d regret it, you’d resent me, I thought—”
Office Hate: An Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 11