Page 11 of Devil in the Details

Olive

I was pouring my second glass of wine when I heard Michael tap on my front door a second before he pushed it open and entered.

“I come bearing gifts!” he shouted.

“I like gifts.” I leaned against the counter and brought the glass to my mouth, taking a long drink from it. The memories of today moved through my head like a movie reel, settling deep in my chest. I felt giddy and ecstatic, relieved, but most of all aroused.

After I’d left Pope’s office, I headed straight to the human resource department, per his instructions, to get everything started for my employment with the company.

Everything started moving quickly then, with my first day being the following week, and the very idea that I would be working for Pope as his personal assistant, secretary, whatever the hell he needed me to do, had this rush of desire and excitement filling me.

Michael walked in with a bag of Chinese takeout in one hand and a brand-new bottle of wine in the other. He held both of them up, and I gave him a grateful smile. “I’m starved, thirsty, and you know I want to hear all about what happened last night and with the interview.”

“Then lead the way,” I said, and gestured to the living area. I grabbed the half-full bottle of wine and my glass, and together we sat down.

I was on one side of the coffee table, and Michael was on the other. As he handed out the cartons of food, the chopsticks, and popped open the other bottle of wine, everything that had happened today continued to play through my mind over and over again like a broken record.

A very good broken record.

“So spill it.” He scooped out some lo mein, wrapping the noodles around his chopsticks before bringing them to his mouth, his eyes trained on me as he expectantly waited for me to answer.

“Okay, well, do you want to hear about the interview or the blind date first?”

Michael leaned back so he was resting against the couch, his expression showing me he was actually thinking about it. “Surprise me with the best one.”

I thought about that and honestly didn’t know which one was better. But I decided to tell him about the interview first, because the whole Pope situation was going to be long and detailed, and no doubt Michael would ask question after question.

“I got the job at Dexter and Calvin.”

Michael’s eyes widened and he raised his arms in the air as if he just scored a goal. “That’s my girl. Fuck yeah.”

I started laughing at how extra he was being with the whole thing, but then thought to myself, yeah. Fuck yeah, in fact. I’d made this day my bitch and came out with my goal in hand.

“So, what about the blind date? Was Pope a winner or should we chuck him in the hell no pile?”

I instantly felt my cheeks heat as I thought about Pope.

“Olive, girl, you better tell me what’s going on, because right now your face is as red as a stop sign and you’ve got this goofy little smile on your face.”

I looked down, embarrassed, but the more I thought about it, the more that smile faded. How could this really ever work? I really liked Pope, liked the way he looked at me. I genuinely felt like he respected me and my thoughts and ideas.

If he didn’t like me, he wouldn’t have hired me after finding out I was fired, right? But on the heels of that, I felt everything else fade. My emotions, the reality of the situation... everything.

I was his employee now. Like, his employee. I would be working directly with him. There’s no way a relationship could stem from anything. Not only would it be inappropriate, but the complications that could come from it terrified me.

What if he broke it off? Would I still have a job afterward? And if I did, how fucking awkward would it all be?

No, I couldn’t give in to my feelings, no matter how strong they were.

Because having a job so I could eat and have a roof over my head trumped my personal happiness.

No matter how much I desired him, how comfortable I felt with Pope, and I’d never felt this way about anybody else, I knew I had to put my feelings for Pope Shelby behind me.

Because anything else might just be a disaster waiting to happen.

I spent the next ten minutes talking to Michael about everything. I didn’t sugarcoat anything, didn’t lie about having gotten drunk. I told him the truth about waking up in Pope’s bed, and I did the grand finale of how Pope was the one who’d interviewed me, and how he was now my boss.

After I was done saying all of that, Michael just stared at me, the expression on his face telling me he was shocked, intrigued, and curious.

“So… what does that mean?”

I shrugged. I really didn’t know what it meant.

“Are you going to pursue things with him? It’s clear he wants to, and the way your voice hitches when you say his name, I know you well enough that you clearly want him too.”

I slowly shook my head and reached out to grab my wine glass, bringing it to my mouth and taking a long drink. “I can’t explore those feelings. I won’t.”

“What? Why?” Michael sounded aghast.

I set my wine glass back down but kept my fingers wrapped around the stem, looking at the red liquid inside. “It’s a disaster waiting to happen, Michael.” When he didn’t say anything in return, I looked up at him. “Because no matter what my heart wants, it’s my head that’s winning this fight.”

This was the right call, but God... it fucking sucked.