Against All Odds (Searching for Love Book 4)

by Kelly Myers

  “I don’t know,” I say. “The way he looked at me at the hotel – it was like it wasn’t over.”

  I lean back against my couch cushions.

  “What do you mean?” Elena asks.

  “I don’t know,” I moan. “Like he still wanted to talk about it – although I have no idea what he could possibly gain out of it!”

  “Hm,” Beatrice says. “Next time, you should let him talk.”

  “What?” I ask.

  “Look, he’s clearly an assertive guy, you’re not going to be able to cow him into silence,” Beatrice says. “So find somewhere private and let him have his say. Have an adult conversation and hopefully that will be the end of it.”

  I frown down at my wine glass. The idea of having a private conversation with Michael terrifies me. For several reasons, many of which I’m struggling to even define.

  Beatrice is right though. Michael is not going to just bow down to my commands. Whatever he has to say, he is going to say it, I just need to make sure he keeps it quiet.

  “Ok,” I say. “If he wants to talk again on Monday, I’ll let him.”

  “Why not meet him outside of work though?” Elena asks. “You could grab a coffee together maybe?”

  “At my place!” Marianne chimes in. “I work 2 to 8 tomorrow.”

  She’s desperate to witness the drama, but I hold up a hand to stop that thought process.

  “I am not meeting him outside the office, that’s what got me into this mess,” I say. “I need to keep this strictly professional.”

  “Agreed,” Beatrice says. “And when you’re not talking to him, you need to be a total Ice Queen. No giggling or flirting.”

  “Have you ever known me to giggle?” I ask. “Obviously I’m not going to be flirting.”

  “I mean, you didn’t intend to flirt before New York, either,” she says.

  “New York was a sneak attack,” I say. “Now that I’m prepared, my defenses are up.”

  Just then the doorbell rang announcing the food’s arrival, and Marianne and Elene ran off to collect it.

  Beatrice leans forward and puts her hand on my knee.

  “It’ll be ok,” she says. “You’re not the first person to sleep with a coworker.”

  “But it’s so not me,” I whisper.

  That’s the truth. This is so out of character that I can barely cope. I feel totally out of control and like I don’t even know myself. I feel tears pricking my eyes.

  “Oh, Zo,” Beatrice says.

  I remember with a pang how Michael called me by that nickname. That only makes me want to cry even more.

  “There are little affairs all the time in my office,” Beatrice says. “And when the rumors get out, it is bad, but a lot of the time, people manage to keep it quiet, I swear.”

  I look up at her with hope. Salespeople are notorious gossips so if sex scandals manage to stay quiet at Beatrice’s office, then I can keep mine quiet.

  “But I’m curious,” Beatrice says. “Is it just possible career damage that you’re worried about? Or is it something more?”

  I look at her in confusion. What more could there be?

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “I don’t know, are you scared you might have real feelings?”

  “No,” I say. “No, no, no.”

  Beatrice just leans back and gives me a quizzical look.

  Elena and Marianne return with their arms full of food.

  “I can not wait for this sesame chicken,” Marianne says.

  “It’s impossible,” I hiss at Beatrice.

  “Ok,” she says.

  She lifts her arms in surrender, and we both head to the table for our feast.

  A few hours later, we are all stuffed with food and exhausted.

  Marianne, always the first to pass out, is curled up on my couch. Beatrice is starting to nod her head next to her.

  Elena helps me clean up in the kitchen.

  “You feel better?” Elena asks as I rinse a wine glass.

  “Yes,” I say. “I do.”

  I know that Monday is going to be tough, but I feel stronger. It helps that my friends never judge me. Besides from Beatrice’s ridiculous question about my feelings, they have supported me and vowed to help me through this difficult time.

  Elena finishes dumping paper plates in the trash and then gives me one of her big smiles. I can’t help but smile back.

  “Bea is asleep,” she whispers. “This means we get the bed.”

  “Exactly,” I say.

  We tiptoe to my room to settle down.

  Yes, Monday is going to be hard, but I’m glad I have my friends by my side.

  12

  I walk into the office Monday morning with my head held high. I’m even earlier than usual. It’s important that I get here before Michael. That will give me an extra boost of power, which I definitely need if I’m to survive the day.

  I can already tell that being an Ice Queen is going to be exhausting.

  But it must be done.

  I sit down at my computer and check my email. I spent Saturday with the girls, but all day Sunday I got ahead on my work. It was a good distraction. I laid out a whole new plan that will enable me to see Michael as little as possible. I’ll still have to see him, but we will always be surrounded by others.

  Down the road, when we have to go back to New York, I’ll suggest Michael go alone or I go alone. I’ll frame up some official sounding reason.

  I tap my finger on my desk and take another sip of coffee. After this cup, I need to cut myself off. Too much caffeine will make me jittery which will not help me maintain my composure.

  Michael might even think I’m jittery because of him. Which I am not. At all.

  And I don’t even care what he thinks of me.

  At 8:30 on the dot, Michael appears in my doorway.

  I didn’t expect him to come to me, but it makes sense. We have a meeting with Nick later in the morning to recap the New York trip.

  I give Michael my biggest smile. Now I know that he can spot when I’m faking, but it doesn’t matter.

  Everything between us is going to have to be fake from here on out. The thought gives me a twinge of sadness, but I push it off. I made this bed, now I have to lie in it.

  “Good morning,” I say to Michael.

  He nods and walks in. I flinch when he closes the door.

  “We probably should head to the conference room soon,” I say.

  The conference room has big glass windows that everyone can look into. He would be an idiot to cause a scene there.

  “Zoe, I’m sorry if I’ve upset you,” Michael says.

  I blink in surprise. Of all the things I expected from him, an apology is not one of them.

  “I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page,” Michael says. “But it’s clear you just want to ignore it.”

  I can’t tell if I’m imagining the note of bitterness in his voice. I examine him closer, and I have to admit, he’s looking pretty rough. Michael’s shirts are usually not fully tucked in (which adds to his effortless charm), but today his button-down is straight-up wrinkled. His hair may have started out neat, but he’s clearly been mussing it, and he’s got faint purple bags beneath his eyes.

  This morning I dressed myself neat as a pin and took extra care with my hair and makeup. I wanted to look the part of the imperious and unbothered professional.

  I swallow. Apologizing does not come easy to me, but I don’t want to be a coward, not when he’s being so nice and mature.

  “I’m sorry too,” I say. “For running away.”

  My words come out stilted, but it’s the best I can do.

  Michael glances up at me, and there’s a sadness in his eyes. I have the strangest urge to step forward and give him a hug, but I squash that desire as fast as I can. This is why it’s dangerous to be alone in a room with him.

  “But it’s best for us to just move forward,” I say. “We will see this project through to the
end, and we’ll never speak of what happened in New York. We were both responsible, and so we both must respect each other enough to let this stay in the past.”

  This is the speech I prepared and perfected over the weekend. The text message didn’t work, so I knew I needed to tell him at his face how important secrecy was. Beatrice was the one who told me to make sure I own up to my responsibility in the manner. No one wants to feel like they pressured someone into have sex, and Michael doesn’t deserve that. I made my own choices.

  “Zoe, I’m not sure –”

  I hold up my hand to cut him off.

  “Please, we need to get to the conference room and start prepping the team,” I say.

  We have a few underlings assigned to help us with the project. The more time we can spend with them, the better. I need a buffer between me and Michael. Playing the part of the detached and stern professional is harder than ever when he looks at me with those puzzled eyes, like I’m a riddle he’s trying to figure out.

  I don’t want him to figure me out. I just want to do my job.

  I stand up and head for the door. To my relief, Michael follows me without another word.

  I straighten my shoulders as we head to the conference room. Work. I can focus on my work.

  The meeting goes well, and I’m happy to see Michael sink back into his old self. He jokes with the rest of the team, and he puts on his big goofy smile that makes everyone feel at ease.

  I think I must be imagining that something is missing from his smile. There’s that tension lingering beneath it. I catch moments where his laugh seems hollow.

  But I tell myself I’m just being dramatic. I think I know him better because we shared one night of passion.

  After about an hour, we head to Nick’s office to update him on the trip.

  He’s grinning as we enter.

  “My dream team!” he says. “I’ve already heard good things.”

  I tense up immediately. What has he heard? Are people talking about us?

  “We only just got started,” Michael says with a grin.

  “Well, I saw the presentation notes from New York, and I was impressed.”

  I relax in my chair. Of course Nick doesn’t know, I’m being paranoid. If he did know, he would not be grinning at us over the desk. He would have already called HR, and each of us would be getting a serious lecture. Nick tells his jokes, but when it comes down to the hard and fast rules, he’s a stickler.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  We review a few things from the New York office, and then we lay out the rest of our plan.

  “Excellent,” Nick says when we’ve finished. “I knew I made the right choice partnering you up on this.”

  He points his finger from Michael to me. If he uses the phrase “Dream Team” one more time, I’m going to throw up.

  I heave a sigh of relief as soon as we’re out of Nick’s office. Then I turn to Michael.

  “Want to get back to work on the next big meeting?” I ask.

  We have a video conference call in the calendar for Thursday.

  “I’m actually gonna head to my office for a bit,” he says. “I need to get through some solo work.”

  “Oh,” I say. “Of course.”

  As I watch him walk away, I don’t know why I’m so upset.

  For a second, in the conference room and in Nick’s office, it felt like we were a team again. Like in New York. And over dinner. And after.

  And I like that feeling.

  Which is extremely inconvenient.

  I head back to the conference room to dole out assignments and then to my own office. I try to get work done, I really do.

  But I keep thinking about how Michael looked at me when I said we needed to leave what happened in New York in the past. He seemed so...disappointed. Like, I wasn’t who I thought I was. Like, I was letting him down somehow.

  And I don’t know why, but I want him to like me. It’s so childish. I haven’t cared what certain guys thought of me since I was in middle school and had a crush on the star basketball player. If some guy doesn’t like me, I just shrug it off and move on.

  With Michael, I can’t seem to shrug it off.

  I almost send him a message about five different times. I have no idea what I want to say, and everything I can think of sounds stupid.

  Are you mad at me?

  Can we talk?

  Both questions are absurd, especially considering that I have been insisting for the past several days that I don’t want to talk. And of course he’s mad at me, I’ve been cold as granite to him the last few days. Michael’s not an idiot, he understands the repercussions we could face, but no guy likes to be rejected.

  It turns out, I don’t like rejection either. Even when I know it’s for the best.

  I’m about to force myself to stop pining over a guy I can never have (and I only want him because I can’t have him probably), when Michael sends me a message.

  Can you meet me in the West hallway in 5? Need to discuss a few things over lunch.

  I stand up immediately. It’s a little early for lunch, but it will be good to touch base with Michael over a meal. For the sake of the project.

  That’s what I tell myself as I walk quickly to the West hallway. It’s right outside the cafeteria, and it’s usually quiet this time of day.

  Sure enough, when I arrive, Michael is the only person in the hall. He’s leaning against the wall next to a bathroom. We have single bathrooms in this section of the office.

  “Hey,” I say.

  Michael nods, but instead of walking towards the cafeteria, he opens the door to the bathroom and ushers me in.

  I frown but follow him. I know I shouldn’t put myself in a small and isolated room with him, but, if I’m being honest, I’m curious as to what he has to say.

  As soon as the door is closed, Michael locks it. The sound of the lock clicking into place sets my stomach tingling. I force myself to cross my arms and glare at him.

  “What is going on?” I hiss.

  “Zo, this is crazy,” Michael says.

  He takes a step forward, and I inhale as I catch the scent of him. He’s so tall that when he stands close, it’s just him that I can see. I tip my head back and stare up at his face. The fake smile is gone, and his expression is firm with intensity.

  “I’ve been thinking about you for days,” he says. “That night in New York – it was amazing.”

  My eyes widen at the compliment. I thought it was remarkable too, but I had no idea he felt the same way.

  “I can’t act like it was nothing,” he says.

  “Michael, it was against the rules,” I murmur.

  But before I even finish the sentence, his hands are at my waist, and his head is bent over me.

  “Tell me you want me to let go, and I’ll stop,” he says. “But I don’t think you want that.”

  I open my mouth to tell him to cut it out, but instead of forming words, I only tip my head back so I can look into his eyes.

  Then he kisses me, and I forget everything.

  It’s different from New York; this time he kisses me with desperation, and I realize that I’m kissing him back in the same way. It’s as if we have been dreaming of this for ages. And I guess I have, even though I’ve told myself over and over it can’t happen.

  Michael pushes me so that my back is pressed against the wall, and his hands run up and down my torso as if he wants to memorize my shape.

  “Zo,” he whispers into my neck. “I can’t just forget it.”

  I wrap my arms tighter around him and press myself against him. My blouse has come untucked, and his hands are pushing up the hem of my skirt.

  And I can’t get enough.

  All morning, I’ve been thinking of him. Wondering what he thinks of me. And now he’s here, and I can’t deny my attraction anymore.

  He slides one hand up to cup my bottom, and the other hand slips inside my underwear.

  I gasp as his fingers begin to stroke me. I
’m sopping wet, and now he’ll know for certain how much I want him.

  “Michael,” I say.

  He pulls away from where he’s been kissing my neck.

  “Do you want me to stop?” he asks.

  “No,” I say, too aroused to lie. “I want you to keep going.”

  He smiles and kisses me softly on the lips.

  Then he drops to his knees. I nearly collapse. I'm trembling so much as he pulls my underwear down and holds my skirt up.

  I feel like I’m not myself. I’ve become a different person. A free-spirited person who dashes into a bathroom for a liason.

  I let out a little cry as he begins to lick me. I say a quick prayer, that the doors and walls in our office are so thick, because I won’t be able to stay completely quiet.

  He’s too good.

  His tongue teases me until I’m gasping for air, all while he slides one finger first, then another finger inside me.

  I come fast and hard, as if all my pent-up feelings they bubble to the surface.

  I clench my jaw and shut my eyes in order to force myself not to scream as I climax. The waves of pleasure surge through me in ecstatic vibrations.

  When I’m done, my legs are shaking, and my hand is buried in Michael’s hair.

  I let go and stare at him in astonishment as he stands up.

  “I can’t believe you just did that,” I whisper.

  It’s the first thing to come to mind, but far from the only thing I want to tell him.

  “But you liked it, didn’t you?” he says.

  Just his mischievous smile makes my stomach clench with desire. It’s a powerful physical connection, I can no longer deny it.

  “Yes,” I say. “I did.”

  He leans forward and kisses me again on the lips, this time with a starling softness.

  “You’re so stubborn,” he says. “But I knew I could prove it.”

  I stiffen in his arms as his words sink in. I’m a challenge to him. I’m the frigid office bitch who can’t have fun unless he shows me how.

  I push him away and take a few steps into the opposite corner. I start to straighten my skirt and tuck in my blouse. I can’t walk back through the office looking like this.

  “Zoe?” he asks.

  I keep my back turned to him as I answer.