“I know who you are, you hot little slice.” He interrupts me, his grin is contagious.
“I’m Yancy!” He walks around the corner of the desk. “I’m glad you’re here, Olivia. After all, you are the reason we’re in this mess. C’mon!” He laughs and leads me down the hallway. We pass cubicles and two small offices before we reach William’s door.
“She’s here!” He announces and slings the door open and I stifle a laugh.
“Miss. Foxe.” William glances at me over his computer. He tucks his arms behind his neck while leaning back in his chair.
“Olivia,” I correct him.
“We’re at work.” The corners of his mouth tug up. He stands and walks around his desk. He leans against the front, studying me. His jacket and tie are tossed on a chair, leaving him in a button down that is rolled to his elbows.
“You’re at work. And I’m…confused.” I glance back to Yancy. He’s smiling at our interaction.
“I need your help.” His eyes look past me, “We need your help.”
“I gathered that,” I deadpan. “What is it?”
“His secretary, Emma, left us high and dry this morning. I suspected she was looking for a new job. Of course she’s loyal to her best friend, but I mean she could’ve called.” Yancy rolls his eyes.
“Loyal to her best friend? Rachel?” My head snaps back at William, with narrow eyes.
“Yeah, so, anyways, we need your help this week.” Yancy adds.
“I thought you were his secretary,” I say.
“I’m his assistant,” he looks offended.
“Okay, I’ll do it,” I say. Yancy bends his knees and clasps his hands together. “Only for this week,” I tell them both. They nod, Yancy is beaming. A ghost smile appears on William’s face.
“Shadow Yancy today, he’ll teach you everything.” William says as he crosses the space between us to place a soft kiss on my forehead. “Thank you,” he whispers.
Before I close the door, I turn to find him buried in his work. As if he senses me watching him, he raises his head and matches my smile. I speed up to Yancy, trying to set William aside in my mind. The lines are beginning to blur again. The few days I’m here I’ll spend my days working for him, and my evenings trying to avoid further conflict for our friendship.
Yancy spends the afternoon shoving policies and procedures down my throat. I didn’t know this would be so overwhelming. I skim through emails to decipher which ones to send to each department.
“Rachel, is there an email from finance?” I freeze, my eyes remaining on the screen in front of me. Yancy drops his pen and gasps from the chair beside me.
When William realizes what he said he shoves his hands in his pockets, and stalks down the hall. I glance in his direction. His hands tug at his hair; he swings his door open and slams it so hard my heart skips a beat.
“Did that just happen?” Yancy whispers.
“Yep,” I say, not giving any emotion away. “We’re not dating. He’s just a friend,” I wave him off.
“You expect me to believe that? You should see your face,” his says, his voice is soft and caring.
“Believe it. It’s the truth. What time can we get out of here?” I shake my wrist, bringing the face of my watch to my eyes.
“Between you and me,” he leans in closely to whisper. “I would answer to any name that man called me.”
He cocks his eyebrows up, while nodding his head. I laugh, robotically. My mood has soured. If Yancy, someone I met today, can tell then William will notice. I pull my purse over my shoulder, drop my cell phone in and walk with him to the door.
“You’re coming back tomorrow?” He asks, his eyes darting over my face, looking for any hint of sadness.
“Yes, I will be here.” I assure him.
“Are you staying with William?” I nod my head. “Ouch,” he mutters.
Ouch, is right.
I searched the sidewalk and shops that lined them, thinking. A pair of polished women walked from a salon. I studied my reflection in the glass and frowned. My boringly straight, light, blonde hair flows past my chest. Pulling my bottom lip in my mouth, I glance into the building. I see one chair open, the lady is standing near it texting on her phone. Without further thought, I walk into the salon.
Two hours later I walk quickly into the lobby of William’s apartment building. I catch the elevator as the door begins to close. I smile at my reflection. My hair is a shade darker and barely reaches my shoulders.
“Olivia, is that you?”Williams asks after I shut the door. I kick my shoes off and leave them beside the door.
“Yeah.” I spot my suitcase in the foyer. I release the handle and roll it through the living room. I almost make it to a guest bedroom, but he stops me.
“That’s not my room,” he says. I seethe that he assumes that I’ll sleep with him.
“I know, William. It’s my room for the week.” Feeling brave, I turn my head to face him. He has exchanged his suit for lounge pants, loose fitting, low hanging lounger pants.
“I ordered food for you. If you’re hungry,” he says slowly.
I nod my head, forcing a smile. “Thanks.” I leave my suitcase inside the room and follow him into the kitchen.
The scent of Chinese food invades the space, I spot a sack, and it’s equipped with the logo of my favorite take-out restaurant in New York. I can feel my expression harden; this is his attempt to say he’s sorry. Sorry William, you can’t call a girl the wrong name and buy her forgiveness with food.
“You cut your hair,” he says matter-of-fact. He passes me the box of stir fry and chop sticks.
“I did.” I push my chicken around the box, refusing to meet his eyes.
“I’m so sorry about today,” he starts. I keep my eyes on my food. “You’re staring daggers at your food. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Deep down I knew this couldn’t work. We never even tried dating, we had a short-lived affair. We have been friends for as long as my memory allows me to know. I swallow the lump in my throat and meet his gaze.
“I’m freaking out about my hair. I’ve never wore it so short,” I lie. His eyes search my face, calculating my feelings.
“It’s beautiful. You could pull anything off.” He crosses the space before us and tucks a lock behind my ear. “I was worried you were upset about the name-slip. I’m not used to having you at work. She was always there with Emma and… Forgive me?” His eyes plead with me.
This is it.
“It’s not a big deal,” I laugh, forcing humor. “I call my friends by wrong names all the time.”
“It’s not acceptable for me to call you another name. I wanted you to know how sorry I am.” I jump from the stool and grab my take-out box.
“It’s cool,” I shrug my shoulders. “We’re still friends. Do you mind if I eat this in my room?”
The v between his eyebrows form, he rakes his hand down his face. His jaw clenches, deep in thought. “Where the hell does ‘It’s cool, we’re still friends’ mean?” He asks.
“This,” I say, waving my hand in between us, ‘is ridiculous. William, it has to stop. If we continue our friendship will be over.”
He stands, hands placed on his hips, jaw clenched waiting for me to change my mind. “I’m tired of this ride we’re on,” he says.
“Then get off!” I say and he smirks. “Don’t,” I warn him.
“Liv, just give it a chance.”
“I have! And guess where that got me? You called me by the wrong name!” I seethe.
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You just said you weren’t mad.”
“Well, I am!” I shout.
“She’s been texting me and…” He sighs, “She always sat there with Emma.”
“Do you talk to her?” I ask. When he shakes his head, my shoulders sag with relief. “Sorry, I just wanted to know.”
“Don’t apologize. Why did you ask?” He takes a step in my direction. Without thought, I step back.
&nb
sp; “No reason, if I have to wake up early, I’m going to bed.” I stretch and fake a yawn.
“What can I do?”
“Give me time.”
He doesn’t look pleased with my answer. I take my cue and leave the room. Once I’m safely tucked in my room, I toss the food away and collapse on the bed. I feel hard footsteps shaking the floor, followed by a door slamming. Until recently I wasn’t aware William had a temper.
But maybe he didn’t have one until I came around.
Chapter Ten
Our week is rushing by. Time is mocking us as the awkward tension doesn’t subside. When I agreed to spend my break with William I had hoped this would go differently. It’s been an ugly reminder of what I can’t have from the moment I arrived. Two days have passed since I told him we should be friends. He speaks to me only when needed and it’s always cool and to the point. Noticing the time, I power off my computer. Yancy sits down beside me, grinning.
“Where have you been?” I cock an eyebrow, hoping for a story. My time at Henson has been uneventful. I’ve found myself wondering why I’m here. I answer calls and add input to Yancy’s drama while William looks for a secretary.
“Chase’s office,” he says. He turns his monitor off, standing.
“C’mon, that’s all you’re giving me?”
“You really want me to bore you with work?”
Grabbing my purse I stand, following him to the elevator. “I’m not buying it.” He grins, not offering any details.
We step on the empty elevator. Two floors shy of the lobby the door opens to reveal two girls our age. One looks at me with disgust as she whispers to her friend. Stepping from the door, they fold their arms. Yancy shrugs at me. I force a tight smile.
My presence in the building has not gone unknown. Apparently Rachel has befriended the entire block. When I walk in a room, keys stop in their chorus, conversations come to an end, and I swear even the deli man across the street gave me a displeasing look. Anger boils inside of me as I leave each day. By the end of the week I’ll come into work drunk and sporting the Scarlett letter.
If Rachel’s band of followers knew the guilt I carried maybe they would get off my back. I tried to make things right. And fuck if I’m not still trying to do the right thing.
“Does he know about all of this?” Yancy asks, pointing to the door. I shake my head no. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I laugh. “It takes more than petty gossip to hurt me.” He gives me a sadden look. The elevator chimes with arrival.
“Thank me later,” he says, throwing a grin at me as he exits the elevator. “See ya tomorrow.”
I walk into William’s apartment to find him standing near the door shuffling through mail. He’s ditched his work clothes for a casual light purple button down and with jeans. I notice flowers thrown on the table. I scrunch my face, waiting for an explanation.
“You’re home early,” I say.
“Oh, yeah, I had plans,” he says, grinning. He tosses the paper down in exchange for the flowers. “I had somewhere to be.”
“Oh,” I whisper. I mask my sadness. “Have fun.” I walk—no, I run, to my temporary room before I get upset. I’m the one that told him we should be friends and I believe it’s for the best. Of course he’s going to date. He’s allowed to date! So, why am I upset?
Moments later a knock comes from my door. “Olivia?”
“Sorry. I’m just—I’m tired William. Have fun tonight,” I say, my voice breaking at the end.
“What I had planned won’t be fun for one person.”
I cringe. I slap my palm to my forehead and swipe the escaped tears under my eyes. I walk to the door, unlock it and allow him in.
“What just happened?” He asks, strolling in.
“I don’t know,” I say, shrugging him. “So, what do you wanna do?”
“I’m taking you out. Get ready.”
“I am ready…” I look down at my black skinny jeans and cashmere sweater, meeting his eyes with a cocked eyebrow.
“You have a little,” he says, wiping under his eyes.
Fuck.
“Give me a minute.” I turn to fix my make-up in the bathroom, but he catches my wrist.
“Olivia, you wanted this. Never forget that.” The sincerity in his eyes brings my tears back. Covering my face, I look away.
I walk into the bathroom to smooth my appearance. Cringing, I swipe under my eyes and add conceler. After a coat of mascara, I run my brush through my hair and walk out to meet him.
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask.
He hands me two tickets, watching my reaction. My face breaks into a wide grin as I read over The Book of Mormon Broadway tickets he scored.
“What’s this? You hate Broadway.”
“I’m well aware,” he groans, running his hand over his face.
“Then, why are we going?” I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, nervously.
“Because you love it, and this week is about you.”He wraps me in his arms. I bury my face in his chest, grinning. “That and Yancy told me I’d get laid if I did this.”
“Shut up,” I laugh and shove him away from me.
“C’mon, we’re going to be late.”
The night unfolds with surprises. The thought he put into it baffles me. Dinner led smoothly into a walk to the show. I watched him from the corner of my eye throughout; a ghost smile appeared on his face. He can’t deny he enjoyed our evening. As we walk back, with intertwined hands, my reservation fades. The street lights animate the fallen snow. Glancing to him, I tear my eyes from its beauty.
“That was fun, right?”
“Not too bad,” he says, grinning.
Finally, we walk in his apartment. I toss my purse and coat on the couch. Turning, I find him watching me. I exhale slowly as our silent exchange is made. He walks down the hall, I stand biting my lip, knowing either decision will impact our relationship. I stalk down the hall after him.
He’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed at his chest. The corner of his mouth turns in a cocky grin. Pushing from the wall, he meets me at the bed. His lips briefly connect with my cheek as his hands make their way up my back, stopping at the zipper on my sweater.
“Let me,” he whispers.
I turn from him, allowing him access to my back. I shudder as his hands find my zipper and tug down my back. His lips pepper kisses against my neck, chill bumps line my body. I toss my shirt to the side and turn to face him.
His eyes find mine, holding my stare, they ask countless silent questions. Without hesitation, his lips finally connect with mine and my hands travel to his hair, pulling as I go. The spark is present and undoubtedly stronger.
What is it about us? Doubts lace my mind, but in an instant they subside with a single touch. All other experience is forgotten, no one can compare. The rocky road we’ve paved is no longer presented as a threat. I’ve argued with the possibility that it’s lust; that the thrill only excites me, as my friend, he was off limits to me. But it’s not, it’s more. It’s something I never considered, and certainly something I’m not ready to admit.
My hands fumble with the buttons on his shirt. I silently curse each one until I’m rewarded with the last. I toss his shirt aside, moving to his pants. It doesn’t hit me until we’re standing in front of each other in our underwear, panting for breath. I could play it safe and call things off again. As my eyes linger up his body to meet his gaze, all doubt goes out the window. It’s so deep, he can see straight through my soul. Although it scares the shit out of me, I wrap my arms around him and press my mouth to his. Every girl searches for this, the way he looks at me, I can’t deny that I don’t want it with him. I push him on the bed, fighting my fears head on.
I love you, William Chase, I can’t say it with words, but I’m about to show you.
I climb on the bed, straddling his lap. His hands glide up my body to remove my bra with one snap. It tumbles down as he slides my panties off. He reaches to the table beside him, his h
and returns with a square package. As he kicks off his briefs, I can’t stop the butterflies stirring in my stomach. Each time feels as if it’s the first with him.
It’s not him demanding this feeling from me, it’s just us. Something changed after our first night together. Although we kept pushing the other away, we simply couldn’t stay apart. His hand wraps around my middle and in one swift movement I’m laying flat on my back. I giggle as he nuzzles his mouth in the crook of my neck.
“You’re on birth control, right babe?”
“Mmhmm,” I manage to get out.
He tosses the package from the bed, and to my surprise I’m able to share a first with him. His arms wraps around my knee, pushing up as he slides inside me. With a sharp intake of breath, his lips find mine again. They travel up my jaw, stopping at my ear.
“I love you,” he whispers so softly I try to ignore it. This is only the second time he’s told me, but I know my grace period won’t last long. He’ll want an answer, he deserves one. But the word is tainted to me, it feels wrong to use the word I hear my father tell my mom after he’s been with another woman. Love simply isn’t enough. What I feel for him is more than that. It has to be.
His rhythm speeds up. He knows I’m close as is he. Our bodies shake together; he collapses on me, offering a lazy smile. After catching his breath, he pushes off of me, laying to my left.
“Damnit, stop telling me no,” He groans.
“Uh, what?” I laugh.
“Take this moment and store it in your memory. Wherever you keep all your important shit,” he says, pausing as I gain control of my laughter. “Think about it next time you say, ‘no William we can’t, we shouldn’t.’” He mimics my voice.
“You’ve changed,” I say.
“Oh yeah?” He props his head on his elbow, cocking an eyebrow at me.
“You’re playful and fun. You’re like the old you,” I say, turning to face him again. “You kind of turned into a deuce canoe.”
“Can you define deuce canoe for me?” He asks, chuckling.
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