Works for Olivia
Will probably leave me as soon as the baby is born
I cross out the last one because it’s speculation. Opinion is one thing; making up stories about the future will not be part of either the pro or con list. I’ll need to add to it, but with my next meeting in five minutes, I leave it for later.
The afternoon is busy, and I haven’t had time to eat since my slice of avocado toast. My stomach is growling, and as I’m wrapping up an email, there’s a knock at my door. Usually one of my assistants pings me when someone is here to see me—except for Olivia, who waltzes in whenever she pleases—but she doesn’t give me a name. As I glance at the time, I don’t have to guess who it might be. Rounding my desk, I brush my hands down my skirt,annoyed Jamie confiscated my underwear and bodyshaper. I feel flabby and gross—not exactly date material.
As I open the door, my heart and pussy involuntarily flutter. Jamie has ditched his jacket, with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, holding a red rose similar to the one on his tattoo. He’s not wearing his white shirt and navy slacks, instead wearing all black, just like he often did in Ottawa. When the hell did he have time to change? I quickly peek out to make sure no one is seeing this beautiful man whose intentions are obviously clear. His searing gaze rakes my body, but before I can let my nervous system react, I drag him inside.
“What are you doing? What if someone saw you?”
“I told you I’d be here at six, and I'm a man of my word.”
Once the door clicks, I rush over to my desk to ensure my little pros and cons list is not visible. I tuck it into my drawer and lock it. As I glance up, he hasn’t moved from the door, resting his back against the hard wood with one hand in his pocket and the other twirling the rose between his fingers. Every part of me wants him to storm over and bend me over my desk, wanting to forget what Kristin warned about. If this is just physical between Jamie and me, it won’t last. If it’s supposed to be something more, I can’t let him kiss me every time we’re alone.
“So, where are we going to dinner?” I finally ask as I begin to pack up my bag.
“Does it matter?”
“Yes, because I need to know if I should leave my jacket here or not.”
“Wear whatever you want. It doesn’t matter to me.”
Jamie pushes off the door, and before he can make it to my desk, I blurt, “Why don’t you have a seat?”
He freezes, but only for a few brief seconds. “What is this about?”
“We need to talk, and I can’t risk it happening in public where literally anyone could hear.”
“Okay.” His lips tilt up in a little smirk, but it’s gone just as quickly as he sits in one of the chairs across from my desk. “What do you want to talk about?”
“I told you I needed to talk to someone, and I did.” Not wanting this to feel like a weird power dynamic, I round my desk and sit beside him in the other chair. “If we do this, we have to be careful.”
“And by ‘this,’ you mean…”
“You and me. You have to understand the stakes if you want to be seen in public with me as anything other than a fellow staff member.”
With a small huffed laugh, Jamie sets the rose on my desk. “I told you, I’ll quit if I have to.”
“It isn’t that simple. You used to work for Isaac and there’s public record that you’re now one of Olivia’s advisors. Also, there’s?—”
“The fact that you’re pregnant and the world will think it’s mine? Do you think that wasn’t the first thing I considered before accepting the position here?”
“Fuck,” I chuckle, then sigh. How is he a step ahead? “Well, yeah. That.”
“Have you ever checked my CV?”
“No,” I admit, hating that I feel unprepared. “We were a little busy today.” My cheeks heat as I recall him pulling me into one of the storage closets earlier. I cross one leg over the other in hopes of keeping my hormones at bay, missing my underwear.
“I graduated top of my class from University of Toronto. Marketing is more than networking, graphic design, and branding—it’s analytics and combating algorithms that keep changing. It’s research-based. So, I did my research.” Jamie shifts his chair to face me, then grips the arms of mine to mirror him. “I’m not saying we need to slap a label on this, or share with the world that we’re dating. I just want a chance to see if I’m right that there’s more here than orgasms and flirting.”
I glance down to my finger, fidgeting with the dry skin around my tattoo. I should’ve put another bandage on, but since the cat is out of the bag, I figured there was no point. Now I wish I could cover the little ant. “This is bigger than you and me. Not only am I pregnant, but if it gets out that we’re together—not that we’re together—but if that’s what the media is saying, it’s as good as true. And if that’s the case, then it could look like you were hired because of this, or even because of Isaac and Olivia’s relationship. Then when you realize it’s too much and we break up?—”
“I’ll stop you right there. You’re right, but only about how it could blow up in the worst way. So, I’ll make you a deal.”
Shifting my gaze from my lap to him, I rush out, “What kind of deal?”
“At work and in public, I’ll keep my hands and my mouth to myself.”
