15. Olivia
15
OLIVIA
A fter I put Catie down to bed, I retreated to my room to snuggle under the covers and scroll through some of my favorite book reviewer and author blogs on Snug. Declan had invited me to watch TV with him, but after the intimacy of this morning’s boat ride, I needed a break from proximity to him.
It was intimate, right? I found myself wondering for the millionth time. There’d been a moment when I smiled at him, and his eyes dropped to my lips, and I could have sworn…
I blew out an unsteady breath.
Even if there had been a moment, it didn’t mean anything. Declan was a hot, single billionaire with a sexy accent. Plus, he was a surprisingly decent man under his grumpy exterior. Most of the straight women he met probably thought they had “moments” with him.
Still. The way his eyes had darkened. The way he’d leaned in…
I kicked off the covers, feeling hot. When my phone buzzed with a message notification from @DBCoder, I was grateful for the distraction. We’d exchanged a few messages since the day Declan “fired” me, and @DBCoder had apologized for not seeing my message that day. Apparently, he’d been busy with a work thing.
Tonight’s message read Can I ask your advice?
Always , I typed.
Is there ever a scenario where it’s acceptable to ask out a woman who works for you?
Ooof. There was a thorny question. Before Declan, I would have said, “No, too messy, don’t go there.” I’d never been attracted to any of the men I’d worked for, and it would have made me deeply uncomfortable if any of them had made a pass.
But now I knew what it was like to meet someone through work and…wonder. I knew Declan would never ask me out. He valued our professional relationship, and even if he didn’t, I wasn’t his type. But for the sake of giving good advice to a friend, I tried to imagine what it would be like if Declan ever asked me out on a proper date.
Just imagining sent butterflies flapping in my stomach.
What if @DBCoder’s girl was waiting with those same butterflies for him to make a move? On the other hand, what if she wasn’t, and making a move would ruin a perfectly good working relationship?
You’re not going to like this , I typed, but the only scenario in which it’s ok to ask out your employee is if you already know she’s into you .
That makes no sense , he shot back. How am I going to know her feelings if I don’t ask her out?
You won’t, I replied, unless she tells you.
He started typing, then stopped. I could imagine him turning my answer over in his head.
Sorry, I wrote. I told you that you weren’t going to like the answer.
You did , he responded. Then thanks. He sent a gif of some actor I didn’t recognize banging his head against a wall.
I laughed. Poor guy.
A part of me was envious of this real-world woman @DBCoder liked. But as long as I refused to take our relationship offline, I didn’t have any right to be jealous of who he dated. Besides, he was my friend. I wanted him to be happy.
If it makes you feel better , you’re not alone , I wrote. Before I could lose my nerve I added, I sort of have the hots for a guy I work with. It’s been…
I searched for the right word.
Distracting , I finished.
Naughty girl, he teased. Then, Does he work for you?
I’d mentioned to @DBCoder that I worked in childcare, but we’d never gotten into specifics. For all he knew, I was a principal at a primary school or the admin at a nanny agency.
I imagined Declan reporting to me in some imaginary office setting. It was both hilarious and strangely hot. I snorted and typed No .
Then ask him out , @DBCoder said. By your own rules, you’re in the clear.
That was bullshit. There were a million reasons why asking Declan out was a terrible idea, but I didn’t want to get into them with @DBCoder.
He’s way out of my league , I said instead, because that was true too.
His reply was instant. I highly doubt that .
I smiled. @DBCoder might be snarky, but he was sweet too. Guys weren’t sweet like that in real life. At least, not the guys that I knew.
Good night , I wrote. Go sign up for a dating app. Meet someone who doesn’t work for you.
Ha. Dating apps are a terrible idea in my case. But I appreciate the suggestion.
I logged off and turned off the lamp by my bedside. As I drifted off to sleep, I wondered idly what @DBCoder had meant by “ in my case .”
I dreamed I was on Declan’s boat, but instead of Declan being there with me, it was @DBCoder. He was a shapeless silhouette, in the way of dreams, but I knew it was him standing behind me, his palm skating over my stomach, as he dropped a kiss on my cheek, then the base of my neck. It felt so good, but I knew it was wrong.
I can’t , I said. Not you.
What if I was someone else? He turned me around, and then it wasn’t @DBCoder anymore, it was Declan. And there wasn’t anything hazy or shapeless about him. It was Declan kissing me roughly, Declan’s hands on my hips, Declan boosting me up onto the railing of the boat, so that my legs could wrap around his hips.
I clutched at his shirt, a thrill shooting through me. Too late I realized we weren’t wearing life jackets.
We’ll fall , I protested.
Then we fall , Declan said, and then his hands were sliding under my sundress, cupping me, stroking me, as he bit my neck and ordered me to fall with him.
Or was he begging?
I twisted in his arms, and then I was twisting in the sheets, and then a wave swept me overboard and away from Declan, and I jolted awake as he called, “Olivia. You up?”
I blinked in the morning sunlight, pulse racing.
There was a gentle knock on my door, and Declan asked again, “Olivia?”
“Yes?” I was confused until I glanced at the clock and realized I’d overslept by over an hour. “Shoot.” I scrambled out of bed, pulling a sweatshirt over my pajamas for a bit of additional modesty.
I yanked open the door and shoved my hair out of my face. “I’m so sorry. I overslept. Does Catie need help? I’ll be there in a second.”
“Slow down,” Declan said, his grin lazy as he leaned against my doorframe. “Catie’s fine. I’m just making eggs and bacon and wanted to see if you wanted some.” His grin faded and he frowned. “You never oversleep. Are you feeling all right?” He reached out with the back of his hand to feel my forehead.
Unfortunately, that made me think of all the things his hands had been doing in my dream.
“You’re not hot, but you’re definitely flushed,” Declan said, sounding concerned.
I pushed his hand away. “I’m fine.”
He looked skeptical.
“Really! I’m fine.”
“Suit yourself. Breakfast will be ready in ten.” He looked me up and down one last time, biting back a smile. “Nice sweatshirt.”
I looked down, confused, as he walked away.
Then I realized that in my haste, I’d grabbed the sweatshirt he’d loaned me on movie night. Which meant he probably thought I was sleeping in his clothes, like a real weirdo.
Or like a woman with a crush.
I groaned, and went to get dressed as quickly as I could.
Fifteen minutes later, I walked into the kitchen and discovered “eggs and bacon” was a bit of an understatement. Declan had made eggs, sausage, potatoes, ham, toast, and—for some unknown reason—cooked tomatoes.
“What’s all this?” I asked. I watched Catie ferry plates to the table.
“Couldn’t sleep. Felt like cooking,” Declan said. “Hot water is in the kettle for tea.”
I turned to see he’d set out my favorite mug next to the kettle.
It was small gesture, but it made something delicious flutter in my stomach.
“Uncle Declan said my granddad used to make a big breakfast for everyone on Sunday so he didn’t have to go to church,” Catie informed me.
My eyes flew to Declan. I didn’t know why it felt significant that he was doing something his dad used to do, but it did.
Declan scratched the back of his neck, looking scruffy and adorably self-conscious. “Right,” he said gruffly. “Food’s getting cold.”
Catie carried most of the breakfast conversation, updating us on all the things she’d talked about on the phone with her mom last night. Apparently, two of the men in group therapy were “whiny bitches” but the rest of the people Sinead had met were “all right.”
“Let’s not say ‘bitches’ at the breakfast table,” I said.
“When can I say it?” Catie asked reasonably.
“When you’re older,” Declan said. He changed the topic before Catie could come up with a rebuttal. “Olivia, I wanted to say thank you for the advice you gave me.”
I blinked, confused. “The dating advice?”
He gave me a weird look. “What?”
I flushed, realizing I was thinking about last night’s @DBCoder conversation. Apparently, it wasn’t just my dreams that were mixing the men up. “Oh my gosh. No. Sorry, I was thinking of someone else.” I flushed harder, hating how rattled that dream had left me. I gulped my tea, obviously needing the caffeine. “What advice were you talking about?”
“Your suggestion about bringing more allies into a business fight to take down a bully.” He said it slowly, like he was a little worried I’d hit my head. “I took your advice, and it’s working.”
“Oh. That. Good.” I waved my fork as I talked, as if that would help me find smarter words.
It didn’t.
Declan smiled, affection in his eyes, and I both loved and hated that smile, because it was the exact smile he’d had in the dream.
I decided then and there I needed space from Declan. As much space as possible. “Catie, want to go to the bookstore after breakfast and visit Molly? Give your uncle some peace and quiet?”
“Yes!” Catie shoved toast into her mouth enthusiastically.
Something in Declan’s smile flickered.
Too late, I realized it was probably rude not to invite him too, since it was his day off. But I couldn’t help it.
I needed space , before I did something irreversibly stupid.
B y the time Catie and I got to the bookstore, I decided the problem was that I had too much free time on my hands. Unlike some other employers I’d had, Declan actually respected my off hours. And that was leaving my brain far too much time to think things it shouldn’t.
As soon as Molly had a gap in the customers she was helping, I strode up to her. “I’ll do it. Let’s make a picture book together.”
Her face split with glee. “That’s frickin brilliant . I knew you’d say yes.” Then good-friend mode kicked in and she frowned. “Wait, why are you saying yes? Are you sure you want to? You seemed pretty against the idea before.”
I sighed. “Let’s say I need a distraction from…someone.”
Molly’s eyebrows rose. “Someone you’re living with?”
“No!”
“Uh-huh. I saw the way you looked at him at lunch the other day.”
I groaned and dropped my head into my hands. “Is it that obvious?”
“Not to him,” Molly reassured me. “Men are oblivious. Speaking of which, do you want to go on a double date with me and my on-again-off-again boyfriend? He’s got a cousin in town who’s apparently ‘not that boring.’”
I laughed. “You make him sound so appealing.”
“You said you needed a distraction,” Molly reminded me. “Come on. You can give me a fresh opinion on my man. Half my friends think I should bin him for good and the other half think he’s no worse than any other lad.”
Privately, I thought if she had to ask what someone else thought about the guy she was dating, she already had her answer, but maybe Molly was right. A night out could be fun.
“Sure,” I said. “Let’s do it. It just has to be after Catie goes to bed, or a night when Declan doesn’t mind me clocking out early.”
Molly beamed. “Brilliant.” Then her face got more serious. “Er, did you really mean it about doing a children’s book together? Because I’ve got a friend who works for a small publishing company up in Dublin. She loves my art style, and she’s said more than once I should pitch her if I ever find the right writer to partner with.” She rolled her eyes, looking a bit self-conscious. “Or, I mean, we don’t have to do anything that serious, we can just mess around…”
I hadn’t known Molly that long, but even I could tell she didn’t want to mess around on this project. She wanted to give it a real shot.
The more I thought about it, the more her enthusiasm sparked mine. “No, let’s do it. Let’s make something you can pitch your friend.”
Molly squealed.
With any luck, I’d be too busy to think about sex with anyone—especially my boss.