Page 57 of Left of the Slash
I know he's pissed, and maybe even a little confused. I've told him multiple times that I'm his and that I belong to him, but that was just heat of the moment stuff. That was the dynamic talking. Nothing more.
I can't let it be anything more than that, no matter how good he makes me feel, or how much I find myself wanting him duringthe day. I had a plan coming into this, and I'm not changing it now. So, it doesn't matter that I haven't heard him move an inch from the spot I left him in. I start my way up the stairs with silence screaming behind me, and I breathe deeply as I reach the top. My father told me to focus on my excellence, and that’s what I'm going to do. Focus on me … and completely ignore the pain that hums with each heartbeat.
THIRTY-FOUR - Quinn
My fucking neck hurts. It isn't because I injured myself in the gym or because I slept wrong. The pain has been caused by how fast Olivia has switched up on me. She went from moving along at a high rate of speed to coming to a screeching halt like we just slammed on the brakes and pulled the emergency brake at the same time. Last night felt like hitting a brick wall after cruising along beautifully together—the windows down and our hair in the wind, suddenly cut off by a massive crash. Sitting in her office now, I still don't know what the fuck happened.
My world is gray today. Coming to work and acting like everything is hunky dory has been a fight, especially as I sat back and listened to Nick explain to me why he would like to have a conversation with Olivia about a potential future-client. I took great pleasure in watching him mosey into my office witha look of fearful desperation on his stupid fucking face, but the moment was ruined when I remembered that Olivia left me in the playhouse by myself as she walked up the stairs. I waited down there for five minutes, hoping she’d come to her senses and return, but when I went to the top of the stairs, I heard her shower running. She really left me down there for thinking that our relationship was evolving past the parameters she set when we first started. Apparently, I shouldn't have been listening when she told me that she belonged to me and that she was mine. I should've ignored that or took it as a fucking joke. Boy, what an ass am I. How was I supposed to enjoy denying Nick a meeting with Olivia if our last moment together was ruined by her? In the end, I told Nick that I would speak to Olivia about the potential client myself, and I will at some point. Today, all I'm thinking about is last night and tomorrow—how she left me, and how we’re supposed to meet with the EWB board for our pitch.
Annoyance fills my bones as I look at Olivia going over tomorrow’s proposal points. She’s looking down at a paper on her desk as Eden and I sit quietly like school kids in class. Olivia looks so good that it pisses me off. Her hair is in tight curls, and it feels like gray just looks good on her. She's in a bodycon dress with a long, matching gray jacket over it. Why couldn't she have come in looking like a fucking troll today? Hell, even with no makeup and her hair a mess, she’d still stun my heart into rapid beats, so who am I kidding?
I try to listen as she goes over everything, but I know this proposal by heart and I'm basically only going to be there to back her up, so it’s easy for me to mute her mouth and solely focus on her annoyingly gorgeous face as her lips move and seduce me. I can feel Eden glancing at me every now and then, alternating between taking notes and watching me gawk at Olivia, and I don't care. I guess this is the part where I have broken the rules.I don't fucking care if anyone sees me staring at her. She’s mine to marvel at. Or at least I thought she was.
“Alright, so unless either of you has something new that you think we should add, I think that’s just about it,” Olivia says, finally looking up at us. Her eyes linger on Eden longer than they do me, but I take advantage of the little time that I get and stare directly at her in a way that she knows has nothing to do with this fucking proposal. We were building a connection that was bigger than any pitch, and I can't help the anger I feel at her for pushing it aside for something that matters less.
“No, I think we’re good. I’m excited,” Eden says as she closes her notebook and stands up.
“I wish I felt excitement right now,” Olivia says to her friend. “My goddamn nerves have become so sensitive I can barely take it. I can feel myself about to hyperventilate every time I think about the meeting tomorrow. I can't wait until it’s done and we have them as new clients.”
“I'm a little worried about Mr. Epson,” Eden says as the two of them start walking toward the door like I'm not even there. “I hear he’s a tough nut to crack and very hard to impress.”
Olivia shrugs. Her confidence isn't in tip-top shape. This is her first pitch and it just happens to be the most important in Obsidian’s history. I know she wants to scream into a pillow right now, but I can see her trying to convince herself that she's not terrified. She’s hanging onto optimism by a thin thread with bleeding fingertips, but she's clutching it nonetheless.
“It’ll be fine,” she says when they reach the doorway. “But I'm definitely going to need a drink tonight before I go to bed, otherwise I won't be able to get a wink of sleep.”
“Want to meet at Wonderland tonight?” Eden asks.
“Oh, absolutely,” Olivia replies.
The two of them giggle like the besties they are before Eden goes to her desk and Olivia steps back into the office. When shesees me standing here, her smile fades fast. She doesn't even maintain eye contact with me for very long, choosing to sidestep me and walk around to the chair behind her desk.
“Is there something else you need, Quinn?” she asks, sounding just like an uncaring CEO.
“Quinn,” I say, repeating my name as if hearing it from her lips offends me, because it fucking does. “I don't have anything to add about tomorrow, but we need to talk about what happened last night. I see you've made plans to hang with Eden. I guess that’s to make sure you don't spend the night thinking about calling me to come over.”
Olivia’s eyes roam around her desk like she's searching for lies there.
“No, it’s because I need to have a drink so I can sleep, just like I said,” she replies with an attitude, still keeping her eyes off of me. “As much as you want me to be thinking about you all the time, Quinn, I'm not. Tomorrow is the most important day of my life and in this company’s history. I'm focused on that. Not you.”
“That’s understandable, I know you're under a lot of pressure trying to save Obsidian—”
“Yes, I am,” she says, cutting me off. “Which is why I don't need this right now. Okay? I told you how I felt last night, and it hasn't changed this morning. If anything, I only mean it more now because we just had our last meeting about EWB, and I'm fucking nervous as hell. Can't you see that? You think I want the extra stress of dealing with feelings right now? I don't, Quinn, so please get over your own feelings and go back to your office to make sure you're ready for tomorrow.”
“I'm ready for tomorrow,” I say. “In fact, I'm ready for the next day. I'm ready for next week, Olivia, because I'm actually able to see past this moment and look ahead to the next. I can focus on more than one thing, unlike you.”
“Now you're just speaking out of anger,” she says, and I hate that she's right. “Just get out, Quinn. I don't have time for this.”
“You don't have time forme.”
“All I need from you is for you to be at EWB on time in the morning. I don't care about anything else past that. You'll be there, and you’ll do your job supporting me while I pitch to save the company my father built. Nothing else matters. Now get out of my office.”
I remember the last time we had a conversation like this. She tried to kick me out and I told her she could fire me if she really wanted me out. Of course she didn't fire me because she didn't really want me to leave, and we ended up fucking right here on top of her desk. It was the beginning of this incredible journey we’ve been having. Now look at us. What the fuck even is this?
I decide not to tell her to fire me if she really wants me out this time. Olivia already has enough on her plate, and with how stressed she clearly is about the pitch, she might actually agree to having me escorted out of the building. I hate that I care about making sure I'm not adding to her stress, but I am. I choose not to say anything else because it only can make matters worse right now, so I turn around and walk out quietly. My lips aren't moving when I pass Eden’s desk and enter the hall, but my mind is racing with frustration, my fists balled as tension creeps into my neck and makes my muscles feel tight. Just as I turn into my office, Rob rounds the corner and sees me fuming.
“Damn, man. You alright?” he asks, following me over the threshold.
I walk behind my desk but can't even bring myself to sit down, so I just pace back and forth instead.
