Sharp. I had to be sharp. Because I could actually fix a lot of things, if I just actually…did it.
My suit felt weird as I dressed my naked body. Clean. A squirt of aftershave on my freshly trimmed face. Lip balm on my chapped lips, I hadn’t realised how badly I’d bitten them.
Peter. I missed him. I didn’t want to be here; I wanted to be with him. I wanted to be in that bed so I could hold him. Demand that he kiss me again.
I wanted that. All of that.
I wanted to text him and send long, rambling demands of how I wanted our life together to pan out from now on. I suddenly wanted to text Cal and tell him how awesome he was. That I appreciated him. Oh damn it. Ed. Yeah. Outer of secrets. Deliverer of unwanted truths apparently, that was what Cal had said. I wanted to sit down and talk to him. Perhaps explain some…
Not my place. Not my job.
This was, though. Delaware Financial, the doors swinging open like they had done millions of times as I walked in. Past reception. Nodded briefly at our receptionists, who just stared at me. They knew better than to stop me, because. Yeah. I was me.
“She in?” I asked the…whoever it was sat at the desk outside Juliet’s office. Some temp no doubt, because yes, Juliet. My boss. Terrifying. Also, very real. She always had been. Nothing was off limits to her and…that included me.
“Give me a sec. She’ll see you; she said to let you in if you turned up.”
“Okay.” Gee. Thanks. Was that what her account management had been reduced to?
She made me wait, pacing the floor outside her office with my head down. My heart was racing. I didn’t want to look up, didn’t want to speak to people. Please don’t talk to me.
“Jacobs, have you got the Truman account? Or did that go to Easter?” Someone stopped and asked in passing.
“Easter,” I replied before I could think. I didn’t look up. But yeah. I hated this. Hated it. All of it.
“Oliver.”
Here she was. Sky-high heels. Pants. A sleek blouse that cut far too deep to flash those curves. No shame. Also? Held no prisoners.
“Juliet.” I nodded as she stepped to the side to let me into her office. Dimmed the glass so we had privacy.
I was grateful. Very much so as I unbuttoned my jacket and took a seat.
I had no hopes here. No expectations. She could fire me. Or she could take away everything I had worked for. I didn’t know which option would be the worst.
“You done?” she asked. She was in the other visitor’s chair. Something else I had always appreciated about her. The way she put herself in the game as your equal. She wasn’t, and we both knew it, but as for now? The board was level.
“Done?” I asked. I wasn’t sure where her opening would lead. Her first move. Usually silent. Yet deadly.
“Are you done running around behaving like a child?”
“Rude.”
She smiled. “I must say, I’m kind of impressed. I’ve gone through far too many bottles of Chablis in the past weeks, picking that goddamn show apart. Very clever. Groundbreaking. Who would have known?”
“I have to…”
“It was a dick move. You’re more experienced than this, and for all that is good and almighty…” She shook her head. “You need to tell me things. If you don’t even bother to go to HR and get clearance and you don’t run it past me?”
Sighs. Disappointment. Frustration. All there, without her having to say a word.
“I know,” I admitted. I even looked straight at her. This was me. At work. Professional. “I messed up. I know that, fuck, Juliet. I know I did. It was…not a good time for me.”
“Are you clean?”
Good question. I’d expected it. Also. No lies.
Who was I, and what had I done with Oliver Jacobs? Fuck you, Peter. No. Fuck you, Cal. Ed. Whatever your name was.
