Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Logan
There's just some magic in truth and honesty and openness.
~ Frank Ocean
Olivia and I walk through the workspace, all eyes on us. I hold my head high, even grinning at a few coworkers along the way. Her hand is in mine, and I may never release it now that she willingly gave me permission to touch her again.
The way she leapt into my arms? I’ll never forget that moment as long as I live.
“I don’t deserve you,” I say once we’re facing the elevator together.
The doors open, and we step in.
“Just so long as you remember that, Alexander, we’ll be fine.”
She’s smiling, but I know the hurt I caused isn’t erased simply because I backed out of the management opportunity.
“I’ve done a lot of soul searching over the past two days,” I tell her.
She looks up at me, her brows raised and her eyes wide.
“I had a blind spot. More like full-blown blindness. When it comes to something I want, I tend to get tunnel vision. The prize is all I see.” I pause. “Was. Was all I saw.”
The doors to the elevator open and we step out, Olivia’s fingers still interlaced with mine.
“So you’ve had a change of heart?” she asks with a note of teasing in her tone, but her face is very serious.
“I’d like to hope so. I told Darwin to promote you. Not because I pity you or want to give you a consolation prize. You earned that position. You’ve been here six years, working hard, proving yourself, satisfying clients, holding teams together, giving Barnes the reputation it has partly because of your excellent work. I just got here. Yes. I’ve been in line for a management position for years. That doesn’t mean this position is mine. It’s yours. I’m not in the running anymore. Darwin told me he thought you have what it takes to make an excellent manager.”
“Should we ride over to the deli together?” Olivia asks, neatly evading the topic.
I don’t tease her. I’m too afraid I’ll send her running. We’re making an attempt at healing, but our connection is still fragile.
“I’d love to drive you. Unless you want to drive,” I tell her.
“You drive.”
We walk toward my car.
“Did Darwin mention that he doesn’t want to lose me as a content creator? Did he mention me getting a raise?” Olivia asks me.
“He told me vaguely that he had a plan to compensate our salaries equally and that he had thoroughly considered who would be easier to replace at the content creation level.” I open Olivia’s door, and she slips past me, looking up into my eyes before she settles down into the seat.
I jog around the front of my car and climb into the driver’s seat. As soon as we’re on the street, I set my forearm on the console, my hand palm-up in invitation. She laces her fingers through mine again, and I smile over at her.
“It turns out I’m replaceable,” I say. “You, not so much.”
I mean that in the context of our workplace … but also between us. No one could ever take her place for me.
“Now you’re just flattering me.”
“I’m just quoting our boss.”
“Well,” Olivia says, “I’m not sure I want the management position anymore.”
“Really? Why not?”
“I was up last night, thinking about everything. For one thing, I realized how strong you’d be as a manager. I know I could lead the marketing teams at Barnes. We’d approach the position differently, but we’d both bring strength and experience to our leadership.
“The thing is, I love content creation. I didn’t fully form that thought until I spoke with Darwin. At some point during my conversation with him today, I realized I don’t really want to give up content creation in exchange for overseeing whole projects and managing people.”
“Hmm.” I don’t know what to say, so I’m quiet.
“I wouldn’t mind occasionally leading a project or a team,” Olivia explains. “But I don’t know if I really thought clearly about what I have been gunning for. I wanted to move ahead—to grow to the next step. Management seemed to be the natural progression. When Darwin said he was going to give me a raise to stay where I was, I thought, ‘Why would I want to leave content creation if I’m going to make a manager’s salary?’”
I’m quiet.
“That was the first time I really acknowledged it wasn't a management position I wanted. I just want to continue to advance and grow.”
We pull up in front of the deli.
“This place is cute,” Olivia says, looking out her window at our new client’s storefront.
“It is,” I agree. “Trendy. Inviting. I hope their sandwiches are as good as their visual appeal.”
Neither of us makes a move to get out of the car.
“So,” Olivia says, “as odd as this sounds, I’m kind of hoping you’ll reconsider taking the manager position.”
“You want me to do that?”
“Maybe both of us had our blind spots. You didn’t consider me. I didn’t consider whether the prize was really worth the race. Turns out, I didn’t really want the prize, I just wanted to be the winner.”
“And it turns out I wanted the prize, but I had the wrong prize in sight,” I tell her.
“Oh?”
“I was going for a prize that is inconsequential. The real prize—the one worth the most to me—is you. You’re the prize. What we’re starting to build together—that is the prize. I lost sight of my priorities. I lost sight of you .”
“That’s so very corny, Alexander.”
“What can I say? You make me corny.”
My face and tone grow serious. I stare in her eyes, daring to reach across the space between us to cup her jaw. “I’m serious, Olivia. I never want to do this again—to disregard how my ambition impacts you. I vow to consider you. Always. I’m not saying we won’t compete in the future. We wouldn’t be us if we didn’t at least race that last block home on our runs. But I won’t ever lose sight of you again. I promise.”
“That’s a big promise, Logan.” Her voice is soft.
“I don’t know if it’s big enough.”
“It’s a good start.” She smiles, and the corners of her eyes crinkle.
“I want to be the man who supports you and your dreams. You are amazing, brilliant, funny, thoughtful, passionate … and I want to be at your side when you rise to whatever challenges you face in life. I want to cheer you over your finish lines. If you’ll let me.”
Her hand raises to cup my jaw.
“Logan Alexander.” Her voice is a whisper, tinged with awe. “I never thought I’d want you to be the man I call mine.”
I’m about to say, I know , when she says, “But now I wouldn’t want anyone else.”
She leans in, and I take the invitation, moving toward her for a kiss. We’re a few inches apart when my phone rings through the car speaker.
British guy announces, “Call from Darwin Waterhouse.”
Olivia pulls back, visibly blushing.
“We don’t have to answer that,” I tell her.
“I can’t kiss you with Darwin in the car.”
I chuckle. “I’ll take the call. Then I’ll kiss you.”
She shakes her head with a shy look that has me wanting to put the car in drive and take her to Martha’s Vineyard for the weekend.
I tell British guy, “Answer the call.”
Darwin’s voice comes through the car immediately. “Hey, Logan. I know you’re out at the deli account with Olivia. I’d like the two of you to pop into my office when you’re back. Take your time. But come see me as soon as you’re back in the building.”
“Olivia’s right here with me, Darwin.”
“Hi, Darwin,” she says.
“Hi, Olivia. Great. Well. See you two in a few hours—or sooner. But take your time.”
“Will do,” I tell him.
We hang up, and I turn toward Olivia.
We stare into each other’s eyes, all thoughts of Darwin and Barnes drifting away instantly.
“I thought I might never kiss you again,” I confess.
“Did you? Really?”
“I did. Did you?”
“I didn’t know. I wanted us to find a way to make this work … after my initial shock and anger wore off. After I found out you didn’t even know I wanted the manager position, then I wanted to make up. But I knew we had a lot to wade through. Our situation wasn’t only due to your oversight and lack of consideration, Logan. I was hanging on to a lot of hurt from our past. Resentment and fear clouded my judgment.”
“I would have known about all of that if I had talked to you before barreling toward my goal.”
“I think we’ll do better next time,” Olivia assures me.
“Agreed,” I tell her. “And now I want to celebrate your raise.”
“As long as we can celebrate your promotion at the same time,” she says.
“If that’s what you really want.”
“You said you want to be by my side while I soar toward my goals? I want to do that for you too, Logan. I don’t want to hold you back. I want to cheer you on. You deserve someone who celebrates your wins.”
“Do you know what I like to do when I celebrate?” I ask her, waggling my eyebrows playfully.
“I think I have a few ideas.” The flirtatious tone is back in her voice.
I lean in toward her. She meets me halfway.
I cup Olivia’s face, and my eyes dart between hers. She’s smiling softly at me.
“Kiss me, Alexander,” she says.
“Why don’t you kiss me?” I tease her.
And she does.