Chapter 21

Mona

Six weeks since we returned from London, things with Oliver and I were going better than ever. Apart from that one small slip-up on the day I’d gotten my promotion, we’d managed to keep things out of the office, just as we both wanted. Outside of work, it felt like things were going better than I ever could have dreamed.

Yes, things had been slowing down a little, but that was to be expected. We were spending more time together at work now that I had to sit in on most of his meetings, and I was throwing myself into my new position with gusto.

It wasn’t a lot more work, but it was a good bump in pay, and it seemed to come with the built in promise that I would be sticking around after my initial, six-month contract was up, which was a relief.

For those two weeks, it really felt like everything was going about as well as it could. Oliver and I were engaged in what had to be the most romantic, sexy, intoxicatingly fun relationship I’d ever found myself a part of, and work was panning out in front of me, dripping with promise. It didn’t get much better.

“Honestly, though,” Katya said, catching me heading out the door to head down to Oliver’s late one Thursday evening. “What’s going on with you?”

“I told you, my boss called me in at the last minute,” I replied, and it was the truth, or at least a version of it.

“Yeah?” she said and cocked an eyebrow. “Seems to me like you’re seeing someone.”

“It’s not that at all,” I lied, but she must have seen the smirk on my face as I replied. She went on.

“Come on, you can tell me,” she chided.

I stood there, one foot out the door, and considered it. I had sat on the secret for six weeks, and it wasn’t like she was going to tell anyone who mattered.

“Oliver and I,” I admitted at last. “We’ve been…”

“No fucking way!” she exclaimed, cutting me off. “How long?”

“About a month.”

“Did it start while you were away?” she pressed, sitting down on the sofa, as though the weight of the reveal had knocked her off her feet.

“Yeah, I guess so. It’s still a secret, but it’s going well. Or at least, I think it is.”

“Is that why you got the promotion?” she said suspiciously.

I waved my hand.

“Way to have faith in me,” I grumbled in response. “And no, I got it on my own merits. Oliver doesn’t get a say in that kind of thing.”

“I believe you,” she said, eyeing me for a moment, before she went on.

“You’re being careful though, aren’t you?” she pressed. “You’re looking after yourself?”

“Of course.” I crinkled my face up at her. “Why would you think I wasn’t?”

“Because I’ve seen how things like this can go down,” she replied, enigmatically. “With someone like Oliver. You’ve got to put yourself first, you know that?”

“I am, I am,” I assured her. “Really. This is just…it’s just fun.”

“Is that where you’re going right now?”

She gestured to the door, and I nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Then it’s not just fun,” she sighed. “If you’re getting dressed up at ten in the evening to head over to his place because he snapped his fingers and asked you to, that’s not fun. Trust me.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” I replied, fighting the urge to roll my eyes, but knowing deep down that she only had my best interests at heart.

“Good,” she seemed satisfied.

“You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?” I asked, suddenly panicked, and she rolled her eyes and grinned.

“I suppose I’ll cancel the skywriter I had booked out for tomorrow morning,” she replied. “Go, get out. Have some fun. I’ll catch you later.”

“See you tomorrow!” I replied and hurried out the door and into the cab I had waiting downstairs.

As I rode over, I couldn’t help but think about what Katya had just said to me. Was she right? Was I just deluding myself into thinking there was actually something real blossoming between us? If anyone else had come to me with the story I’d just spouted to her, I would have rolled my eyes and stocked up on the wine for when the relationship inevitably went down the tubes.

With us, though, it was different. Right? It had to be. Surely. If I was wrong about this, about the warmth that crackled in my stomach every time I thought about him, then I wasn’t sure I could trust myself with anything at all.

I went to work the next morning after staying the night with Oliver. He left before me, and I was there alone for a little bit as we waited the appropriate amount of time for me to slip into a cab and make my way down to the office without anyone putting the pieces together.

His apartment was gorgeous, but it felt cold and a little distant in some ways, too. The art was there as a status symbol, not because it looked pretty. It just fit the décor. Yes, it looked amazing, but it felt like a show home more than it did someone’s actual house.

Maybe this was a reflection of how he truly was, all handsome, clean-cut, and striking on the outside but cold within. I felt a shiver run down my spine and pulled on my jacket as I waited for the cab to arrive.

I arrived at the office with plenty of time to spare, and lingered about in the coffee room, slowly pouring and drinking a steaming hot mug. Oliver had kept me up late the night before, and I would need the caffeine if I was going to get through this day.

Also, maybe there was a small chance I was avoiding heading up to my office because I was worried Oliver might notice I was out of sorts. I didn’t want him knowing I was feeling insecure about what was happening between us.

It wasn’t that I wanted it to stop. Far from it. It was just that I wanted to know, needed to know, if this actually meant anything to him. Was I just another Jeannie, another one of his women to sweep off her feet and then leave behind when he got bored? Surely, our connection went deeper than that.

Screw it. I knew all this overthinking wasn’t going to get me anywhere. It was so easy to let my mind run away with itself and send myself into a panic. With everything kept under wraps so carefully up until that moment, it felt as though Katya’s words were a pinprick in my carefully inflated balloon, and I was losing air.

I made it to my office. Oliver was off with Neil, probably catching up on the weekend’s plans. Did Neil know about the two of us? I assumed not, since he had dropped some pretty strong hints in emails to Oliver that he should keep the hell away from me, and God knows what he was saying to him in person.

Was he sitting there right now, across from Oliver, cracking jokes about the last secretary and making Oliver promise never to get involved like that again? It was a distinct possibility.

I pulled up Oliver’s schedule and set to work. I had to admit, it was weird working for the guy I was sleeping with, but I was just about managing to balance my duties and my attraction to him without letting one overwhelm the other.

It seemed as well like I was making some strides in other departments, as I was now sitting in on most of his meetings and even offered my opinion a couple of times. Who knew where I might end up at Artemis some day.

Scanning over his schedule for the day, nothing seemed out of place – until my eyes fell on a name I recognized. Kyra Tan. Where did I know that from? I wracked my brain as I tried to place it, and as soon as I did, my stomach dropped to my shoes. That was the woman I had to chase away from reception that time, the one who he’d been sleeping with.

It sure seemed like they were still together when I saw her last. Maybe it was a business meeting? I felt a creeping dread settle in as I looked forward in his schedule for any names I didn’t recognize.

To my horror, I found a dozen women’s names scheduled over the next week or two. I Googled them all along with Oliver’s name and found pictures. Some were pictures of them out together, some just articles noting where and when they’d been seen. These were women Oliver was dating or had dated, and he was seeing them again, their names sitting brazenly on his schedule for all to see. He must have added the appointments the night before. Otherwise, I’d have known about them.

Did he have no idea how this looked? How it made me feel? I felt as though I’d been punched straight in the stomach, my brain reeling from the shock of the blow. I got to my feet. This couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t.

But then, why did I expect anything different? I had seen the women he spent time with, and they were so different from me. They were smart, successful, beautiful, powerful, and I was just a college graduate who had landed a job as his secretary. I was no one. I was convenient for him, willing to drop what I was doing and scamper off halfway across the city just to spend the evening with him. I had made it all too easy for him to fuck me and had convinced myself his willingness to do so was an indicator that he actually had feelings for me.

All these names and all these appointments told me the direct opposite. He was still seeing these women, and he was doing so publicly, going out with them and parading them around while he kept his encounters with me private. He had convinced me it would be best for both of us if no one knew about our little dalliances.

How in the name of holy hell could I have been so fucking stupid? I wanted to kick myself, furious that I had let myself believe that he actually liked me as anything more than an easy fuck.

I closed down my computer and stared at the blank screen. I put my head in my hands and took a few deep breaths, trying to steady myself. A wave of nausea hit me and I had to swallow a couple of times to keep myself from throwing up at my desk. I got to my feet as soon as the wave passed, and went for the door. My heart sank when I saw Oliver sitting at his desk. He looked over at me and smiled widely.

“Hey,” he greeted me, cocking an eyebrow suggestively, though his flirtation dropped when he saw the look on my face. “Are you okay?”

“I just need…” I scrambled to get out of his office. “I’m just sick. I think I need to go home.”

“Is everything okay?” he asked, concerned. Then he got to his feet, his brow furrowing, and I stepped away from him out of instinct, needing as much space between us as possible at that moment.

“Yeah, it is,” I replied, firmly. “I’ll be back in tomorrow.”

“You want me to call you a cab to take you home? You really don’t look good,” he remarked, shaking his head.

“I’ll be fine, honestly.”

I turned down his offer and headed for the door. As soon as I was out, I felt the tears forming in my eyes and did my best to hold them back before they became apparent to everyone in the elevator alongside me.

I caught a couple of funny looks, but I ignored them, focusing on breathing – in and out, in and out. I could get through this. I could get through this. I just had to make it out of the office, onto the street, and find the train, so I could get back to my apartment and crawl into bed.

And then? What happened then? Did I just try and forget all about Oliver, put him to the back of my mind where he wouldn’t disturb me anymore? Did I tell him outright what I saw and why I didn’t want to hook up with him again, or should I leave it up to him to put the pieces together?

Would he even care? Would he be relieved he didn’t have to break the news to me in person?

Questions danced around my head and made me feel even sicker than I already was. As soon as the fresh air of the street outside hit me, I took a deep lung full and pressed my hand to the wall to gather myself.

I was still getting funny looks from people passing by on their way into the building, but frankly, I couldn’t have given less of a fuck. I felt as though someone had just drop-kicked my heart halfway across the room. What did they expect?

I would take the day to rearrange myself, and then I would walk back in there like I owned the place and remind myself why I got this job in the first place. It wasn’t for Oliver. It was for me. For me.

I kept repeating those words to myself, over and over again, and I finally allowed the tears to fall as I climbed onto the train.