Oh, hell no.
Olivia followed up close behind, arms crossed. “Is that it?”
“There’s barely enough space for the two of us, let alone all night.”
“We’ll have to stay close.”
I snorted in defiance when really my body was like, yes please, should I be the big spoon or the small? Ladies choice? “You sure you’re okay with being that close to me since I happen to like the warm weather and ocean?”
Her nostrils flared in a terrifying way that reminded me of every lesson my dad ever taught me, which almost always ended in, even when she’s wrong, she’s right! “Or is it just women in bikinis flaunting their boobs?”
I smirked and then shot her one of my best mocking winks even though it was one hundred percent true. “Hey, the only boobs I want to see are yours.” I reached out only to have her smack my hand away. “What? They’re nice.” I cleared my throat, the facade er, fading. “You’re nice.”
“Well, you—” She looked flustered and ready to stomp a foot or just kick me in the dick. “I’ll just go get some pillows to go with that stack of blankets.
She marched across the hall like a sergeant and made it to the master room door and, in a herculean effort, attempted to push the door open.
Nothing budged.
Not even a slight creak or movement.
The hell? We had our shit in there! And champagne! A fireplace. I’d built that damn bed frame!
“Do you still have the key?” I asked, telling myself to remain calm lest she punch me in all my sensitive places and then blame me for the locked door.
She gave me a sheepish look. “I kind of just left it on the counter. It was gone when I came back in to see you.”
Wait, so was this my fault?
Hmmmm, how to tread.
Carefully, yes, my brain reminded me very carefully, while every other part of my body was like, wait one hot minute, no master, no sexy clothes, no fancy bathroom sex, no dryer? Bummer of all bummers.
I sighed and sent a mental, sorry troops, not tonight.
Okay, focus!
“Right, okay.” I raked a hand through my longish hair. “So we just improvise and bring in the pillows from the couch; we’ll still be comfortable. And hey, we could, just kidding, can’t stay on the couch somehow they’ll know we didn’t spend time in the room of losers or shame as I’d like to call it. Are they actually watching us?”
“Even the throw pillows are huge,” she pointed out.
“So grab just one,” I said, irritated.
With a scowl, she snatched up one of the black ones and tossed it, then scrambled across the room and picked up a chair.
So the first of us had cracked.
Good to know it wasn’t me!
“Look!” She pointed up to a blinking light behind one of the potted plants set next to the flat screen. I’d honestly seen the plant dozens of times and kept thinking, how great, the greenery looked against the wall and stupidly commenting on it in my God awful notebook that may as well been drawings of Mark plus Olivia equals love. I was starting to really hate this job and myself for being so weak and wanting her so much and actually looking forward to a fucking closet and cuddling and, aghhhhhh!
“You okay?” Olivia whispered.
“Yeah, why?” I kicked the ground with my invisible shoe since I had a sock on and looked like an idiot.
“You yelled.” She reached out to me like I was some scared animal in need of love. Wait, would that work in my favor? Could I moan a bit, fall to the ground, tell her about my sprained ankle and soon to be broken heart because I wanted her and she was going to stay in New York, and my dream had always been the opposite side of the country, breathing the ocean air, seeing the sky, I mean how could she not want that?
And yet I felt my heart go, how could she not want me? Weakass bitch heart of mine needed to sit the hell down and take a time out. No, I changed my mind; he’s out of the game.
No. More.
“I think it’s a camera.” She ignored my meltdown and pointed again. “They’ve been watching us. No chance in hell we can sleep on the couch and—”
The knock on the door had both of us jumping.
“Should have called that,” I grumbled, already on my way to the door. As I opened it, I did a slow clap for whatever idiot had to scurry away while we solved our mystery and flipped everyone off behind their backs or, I guess, very much in front of their backs now.
I mean, what the hell?
How much had they seen?
Did the cameras ever turn off?
Had I signed something about no sexual contact with Olivia?
I was already sweating when I was back in the living room, door closed, envelope tossed onto the table.
Olivia stared me down, then wisely picked it up and pulled out a handwritten note, which she showed me then read aloud. “It’s the loser room or no room at all, no living quarters, food, or internship. You’ll be fired, quickly, seamlessly, as if you never existed, oh and using the pillows? Horrible idea, the security cameras, also a great thing to rate the penthouse on, will be turned off in three, two, one.”
We both looked up, and the red lights were off on the only camera we could see.
I exhaled a sigh of relief, only to inhale a sigh of real fear when I realized it was just us again.
Alone.
In near darkness.
And soon to be alone in a small room, spooning, touching, licking— Wait a second, no, no Mark.
She’s leaving. No matter what I do.
She’s leaving.
I let that sink in, then sadly realized I had suddenly thought this was real, that she’d somehow stay, that what we
