Page 31 of She’s a Big Deal

Grace worried that if the back of her neck tightened any harder, her spine might crack. She reached for the glass of wine she had barely touched, managed to cross to the sofa, and sat down. Her whole body had gone as tight as a bowstring. Even the muscles in her face, she could feel, were painfully rigid.

“Can’t do this,” she murmured, at first, just to herself. Then she raised her eyes to the woman who acutely tested every drop of control and detachment she had painstakingly cultivated over the years. “I told you, it’s not going to happen. I’m not trying to be cruel, Liv.” Again, she failed not to use the intimate nickname Olivia enjoyed. With her frustration mounting, and helplessness seeping in, Grace exhaled long and hard. “You know that, don’t you? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Yes, I understand.” Olivia slid gently next to her. “I don’t either, Grace. On the other hand, I will try to make this really hard for you.”

What the…? Suspicious and weary, Grace held her gaze with a hard stare. How did Olivia always manage to do this? She never failed to surprise and baffle her. Makes me feel like I’m on the edge of falling. Grace intensely disliked being so unstable. At the same time, she feared it was also a huge part of the attraction .

“What is that supposed to mean?” she demanded.

“It’s a theory: you cannot break up with me if I don’t want you to. Because it takes two to tango.”

“Are you high? Drunk? Or something?”

“No.” Olivia chuckled. “This is Charlie’s opinion.”

“Ah. Yeah, figures.” Grace took a deep calming breath. She did not often resent her aunt’s wisdom… But she did now. “This is none of her business. And she damn well should stay out of it.”

“She was just giving me advice.”

“You need advice? Huh.”

“I know you don’t mean to sound so cold and dismissive. Grace.” Olivia laid a firm hand on her shoulder to hold her back as she was about to bolt upright again. “The only reason I didn’t tell you how I felt the other day on the phone is because when my last relationship ended, I totally broke down. I begged my ex not to leave me.”

Grace could not suppress a wince of displeasure that she knew must look like a snarl. Didn’t mean it; could not help it. The curled lip earned her an understanding glance in return.

“I know, I know. It was pathetic. I literally begged her not to go.”

“You didn’t beg me.”

“Nope.”

“Not going to do it now, are you?” Though she hated to sound so aloof and cutting, Grace found it impossible to adjust her tone. Inside, she was boiling. Not with anger, but tension. Once again, her failure to get a good grip on her feelings and the situation was both startling and deeply unpleasant.

“I’m not here to humiliate myself,” Olivia said.

“Good. ”

“But I went too far the other way with you.” She gave her a long and thoughtful look. “I was too passive in just accepting everything you told me, and not speaking my truth. Charlie does have a point, you know? This is not just about you and what you want to do.”

Grace sprang to her feet at the sound of three different notification bells hitting at the same time: email, Telegram, and a text message coming through. Work. Her world, entirely predictable, orderly, and safe, required her attention. She also could not bear to be so close to Olivia and observe such lingering sadness in her eyes. She knew she was responsible for putting it there.

“So, then.” She turned around, ignoring her thudding heart and the sick feeling in her stomach. “What is it that you are here to tell me?”

Olivia rose as well, abandoning all pretense.

“The truth,” she nodded. “I owe it to me and you both to be honest. At least one of us has to, huh?”

Grace narrowed her eyes but she did not reply. Olivia had every right to be angry, and she could not rise to take the bait. She could be cruel and vicious when cornered; Grace knew this about herself. Lashing out now was not an option.

“I don’t want to fight,” she said.

“Neither do I. I love you, Grace,” Olivia went on. “I want to be with you. I think you feel the same way but are too frightened to admit it. Even to yourself.”

“So you’re insulting me now?”

“It’s an observation, not an insult. You smirk in arrogance when I tell you I begged, but I don’t think you’re in a position to judge. You’re just as extreme, except with you it’s the opposite way. At least, I let myself feel. Going through life on emotional lockdown is just messed up.”

“Alright. Great. Thank you for your fabulous insight. Now if you’re finished with your little speech, and psycho-analyzing me…” Grace waved an irritated hand toward her desk as yet another notification sounded. “I’m busy.”

Olivia did not move or say anything else. She just fixed her with that sad, sad look in her eyes, testing her resolve. “Well?” Grace prompted.

Her lover was too accurate in her observations, and Grace was going to start shaking. Any second now, the tension in her body would become unbearable, and really impossible to hide. She wanted to be alone when this happened.

“I’ll be at the Holiday Inn,” Olivia said. “Until tonight. I’m on the first flight home tomorrow. By the way, it doesn’t go with your outfit.”

“What?”

“The bracelet I gave you.” Olivia gestured. “Doesn’t go. But you’re still wearing it.”

She walked out on that, leaving the door wide open behind her. Grace turned to face the window, the strain in her face now such that it actually hurt. She glanced at the bracelet that she had not taken off since Olivia had given it to her. Well. She stared forward again as her eyes slowly filled.

“Ms. Michaels?” Libby now. “Is there anything you need?”

The contract. No. 5. Paris. Some goddamn space to breathe! Focus, dammit!

“Yes.” Grace did not look at her. She just rested one hand on the glass for balance and swallowed around the tight ball in her throat. “I need you to prepare—” Her voice caught, prompting her to swallow again.

“Ms. Michaels, are you okay?” Libby appeared in her field of vision, looking concerned.

“I need you to prepare the draft… contract.” Was her throat swollen? Why was it so damn hard to speak, all of a sudden? If love did this to you, she was better off without it.

“Let me get you some water.”

“I don’t need water.”

“Okay.” Libby hurried to shut the door, then poured her a glass anyway. “Ms. Michaels, I think you should sit down. Your face is as white as a sheet.”

“I need you to prepare the contract for No. 5.” Grace tried again, aware that she sounded like she’d swallowed a mouthful of sand. “We need to add a clause—No, I don’t need this…”

She spilled half the glass her assistant put into her hand before she managed to set it down. Now, the shakes took hold, and her vision turned a little dark at the edges. I love you. I want to be with you. Blood in the snow.

“Ms. Michaels!” Libby gasped when she swayed.

“I’m okay,” Grace grunted.

“Do you need me to call a—”

“No!” she snapped. Reaching the couch, she sat on the edge and dropped her head between her legs. Spoke through gritted teeth as the office started to pitch and roll. “I need a minute.”

Libby said something else to her she did not catch. Hard to hear through the pounding of her heart, the rushing of blood in her ears. She closed her eyes when her vision narrowed a bit more. This would pass, Grace knew. Just like everything else, feelings and emotions. I think you feel the same way… Frightened… With her teeth clenched, she focused on emptying her mind and taking several deep, slow breaths. By the time the trembling stopped, and she looked up again, she was surprised to find that Libby was sitting next to her .

“You’re still here,” she muttered.

“Yes...” Her assistant flashed a cautious smile. “You know, I was tempted to call 911.”

“Oh, God!”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t.”

“Good. Told you there was no need.”

“I trusted you, even though it looked like you might be having a heart attack.”

“Huh.” Grace shrugged. “No. Just a rush of…” She replaced the word ‘Panic’ with a vague gesture. Then, too tired to argue, took the fresh glass of water still on offer. “Thank you for this.”

“Of course.”

“So.” She breathed in deeply. “About the contract.”

Grace went through the details and then checked her incoming messages. These were all reports or questions from staff attached to different projects. She answered them easily. There was a long rambling email from her sister, complaining that Jeremy was annoying the hell out of her at the resort. She composed a sharp reply. ‘Annoying you? How specifically?’ Then stabbed the SEND key.

“And how is it my problem? How old are you all, really?”

Sitting back to consider, she realized that her response was probably unnecessarily harsh and sarcastic. Sighing, she wrote another one.

‘Chloe: if he gets in the way of anything we agreed on, remind him that it’s in the contract he signed. He can’t oppose any of it now. If it’s something else, and I can help to resolve the issue, let me know. I can kick his ass equally well on the phone or in person.’

Three seconds later, a reply landed.

‘LOL,’ it read, which made her eyebrow twitch. ‘Something in the contract, yes. I’ll handle it myself. Thanks for the reminder. Just needed to get it out of my system. XO’

Kisses on official emails? LOL? Feeling both annoyed and perplexed, Grace pressed her intercom button. “Libby.”

“Yes, Ms. Michaels. I’m not quite finished with the contract yet.”

“That’s fine. I just need you back in here a minute.”

Libby walked in two seconds later, prompt as ever, armed with the iPad she always used to take notes.

“Ms. Michaels.” She sounded nervous. “If this is about the interruption earlier, I am terribly sorry...”

Grace waved that off. “Have a seat, please. Glass of wine?”

“Uh… I…” Libby’s eyebrows hit the ceiling in amazement, just before her expression shifted to utter devastation.

“What’s the matter?” Grace frowned.

“You’re going to fire me. Please, don’t. I’m—”

“Christ! Relax, will you? Of course, I am not going to fire you!” Grace secured a glass of wine in her hand and fixed her with a stern gaze. “Though this answers one of my questions, at least. You think I’m a bitch; don’t you?”

Libby’s jaw now hit the floor to match her raised eyebrows in utter perplexity.

“No, no,” she protested. “I… I would never…”

“I’m a big girl, Libby. I can take it. Tell me the truth. I want feedback.”

“Ms. Michaels, I do not believe you are a… A bitch,” Libby assured her.

“Hmm.” Grace tilted her head and jerked her chin in more challenge. “How about arrogant? You think I’m too cocky?”

Libby took a deep breath, a sip of her wine, and a moment to adjust her glasses. Steadier now, she nodded. “I think you are excellent at your job. At the very top of your game. And a bit of a genius all-round, actually.”

Grace crossed her arms over her chest. Yeah. Well. “I won’t argue with that.” Her dry ironic tone had her assistant smiling. Finally! “What else?”

“You do not suffer fools gladly,” Libby added.

“Anyone who does is a fool themselves. No?”

“Yes, I agree. You are also very demanding, of yourself and the people you work with. You never cut corners, always strive for excellence. Operating at such a high level, with low tolerance for mediocrity, will make some people think of you as arrogant, aloof, bossy, pretentious, cold, and domineering. In summary, a bitch, yes.”

Grace watched her in silence. You asked for feedback, right? So now take it.

“It probably doesn’t help your case any that you are such a lone wolf,” Libby continued, clearly warming up to the exercise. “You don’t need anything or anyone, and you’re not afraid to let people know it. No one likes being made to feel… Superfluous, I suppose. Irrelevant. Unrequired.”

“Right. Is that how I make you feel?”

“No.” Libby sipped her wine and grinned again.

“How come?”

“Well. First of all, I am damn good at my job too.”

“You certainly are.” Grace nodded and allowed a faint smile of her own. “The best. That’s why I will not fire you.”

“Yes. And also, I see the real you.”

Why did this send another flash of panic coursing through her? Grace had no idea, but a headache began to circle again. She switched from wine to water and rolled an imperious finger to keep Libby going. Let’s hear it.