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My phone buzzes on the table between us. We both freeze, staring at it like it might explode.
"Is it him?" Olivia whispers.
I turn the phone over with the caution of someone defusing a bomb. "No, it's Mia. Asking how the interview went."
"What are you going to tell her?"
I consider this. "Absolutely nothing about the texting situation. Ever. Under any circumstances. Including torture."
"Probably wise," Olivia agrees. "So what now? Are you going to take the job if they offer it?"
"I don't know." I stare into my rapidly cooling coffee. "It would be the career opportunity of a lifetime. But also possibly the most awkward professional situation in human history."
"You could always pretend you have no idea what he's talking about," Olivia suggests. "Play dumb. 'Text? What text? I have no idea who Camden is. I've certainly never fantasized about being pinned against walls.'"
"He saw my face when I recognized his voice," I groan. "There's no way I can convince him I don't know."
"So own it," Olivia says with a shrug. "You accidentally texted him. So what? You weren't doing anything wrong. You were venting after a breakup. People do way more embarrassing things than that."
"I described in explicit detail what I wanted done to me against a wall!"
"And now he knows you're not boring in bed. Could be worse."
"How? How could this possibly be worse?" I demand.
Olivia considers this. "You could have included Camden's full name and he could have been Roman's golf buddy? You could have sent actual nudes? You could have?—"
"Okay, okay!" I cut her off. "Point taken."
My phone buzzes again. This time, it's a number I don't recognize—but different from Roman's. My heart does a weird little stutter step before I read the message.
Cassandra Monroe, this is Melissa Chen from Elysian HR. We'd like to offer you the Creative Director position at Lumière, effective immediately. Details to follow via email. Congratulations!
I stare at the screen in disbelief.
"What?" Olivia demands. "Is it him? What did he say?"
Wordlessly, I turn my phone so she can read the message.
Olivia's eyes widen.
"Holy shit! They're offering you the job! Like, right now!"
"This is insane," I whisper. "Why would he hire me after... you know?"
"Because you're qualified?" Olivia suggests. "Or because he wants to see you squirm? Or because he's into you? Or all of the above?"
I glare at her. "Not helping."
"Sorry. But seriously, Cassie, this is your dream job. Are you going to let one awkward text exchange stop you from taking it?"
When she puts it that way, it sounds ridiculous. But still.
"What if he expects something... inappropriate?" I ask, voicing my biggest fear.
Olivia rolls her eyes. "Then you sue him for a billion dollars and retire to a private island. But from what you've told me, he doesn't sound like that kind of guy. The texts were flirty but not predatory, right?"
She's right. Nothing in our exchange suggested he was a creep. In fact, he'd been surprisingly respectful, considering the content I'd sent him.