Less than nothing.
“I am fully prepared to hand in my official resignation right now and we can work out some kind of buy-out program when the time comes.” A large breath rushed out of me. It could have been relief, but that wasn’t what I felt. I felt awful. Terrible. Like I’d ruined everything, screwed up my shot at a secure future on my own. Over a man.
Not even love, true or otherwise—just some random man who didn’t believe in the things I believed in. So, again, for nothing.
Sophie let out a long, slow exhale, and her gaze never left mine. “Is that all?”
I nodded, nibbling the inside of my cheek to keep from jumping out of my seat and shaking both of them for a damned reaction.
“Oh, thank goodness,” Olive said first and sank dramatically against the table. “I thought it was something serious, like cancer or war.”
Sophie frowned. “You thought she was about to tell us she got called up to a war that no one knows anything about?”
Olive shrugged. “I wasn’t thinking about anything except what terrible thing was about to take Eva away from us, okay!” Her outburst was unexpected, but it explained a few things about her.
“Okay, fine,” Sophie said in a placating tone before she turned her gaze back to me. “You kissed Oliver.”
“I did.”
“And you liked it?” Leave it to Olive to always focus on the important facts.
“irrelevant,” I said.
“No, it’s not,” Sophie insisted, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “It is completely relevant. I mean, does this mean that you now like Oliver March, or was this some one-off to expel the heat between you two?” The gleam intensified as she leaned closer. “Was it just a kiss?”
“Yes, it was just a kiss,” I confirmed.
“Must have been one hell of a kiss if you’re talking about resigning.” Sophie was smiling and fishing—a good sign, I supposed, but it did nothing to lessen my guilt.
“It was,” I admitted reluctantly.
“Tell me everything,” Olive insisted. “And I’ll decide how angry I am about,” she fixed her face into her best version of a frown, “what you did.” It was a low blow, but I had to admire the gall it took to blackmail me over details. “Well?”
After fetching a quick refill on my black coffee with maple syrup, I came back and shared everything with the women who were more than friends. They were my sisters. I told them everything about the date, from how stunning Priscilla looked in her white catsuit that was somehow sexy and classy, to how good Oliver looked in the outfit I’d chosen for him. “It was a disaster from the beginning but, annoyingly, he gave her plenty of chances to get it right.”
Sophie shook her head. “That woman believes she can force a man to marry her by sheer will alone.”
“Anyway, the wedding talk continued until she ran off.” I walked them through everything, us commiserating over bad dates, that final drink, and the walk in the moonlight.
“A moonlight walk is the perfect stage for romance,” Olive cooed.
“We were arguing and then we were kissing. And that’s what happened.”
“Was this sabotage? For the bet,” Sophie asked.
“I wish I could say yes, but no. It was just a really bad choice.”
“Maybe not,” Olive said in all seriousness. “When was the last time Eva did anything remotely crazy over a guy? Never. She’s the one who can resist even the hottest, most charming of bachelors. Except Oliver. There has to be a reason for that.”
“Yeah, the reason is that I’m an idiot who makes bad choices.”
“No, I think Olive is onto something here. You never let men get close, not anymore. Not since… he who shall remain nameless. But this one? He’s got you all riled up. Excited. Passionate about more than just work.”
“This is all work,” I insisted.
“Work and pleasure, which is allowable,” she said, as if that settled the matter. “If you like Oliver, I think you should pursue it. See where it goes.”
“And I think you’re both crazy.” But they had legitimate concerns. “There is a certain level of attraction between us, I’ll give you that. And there might even be some chemistry,” I said easily, ignoring Olive’s derisive snort. “But none of that matters, because I believe Oliver about who he is and what he wants, which adds up to not the same things as me. And that, according to our very own algorithm, makes him a very bad bet.” A recipe for heartache.
“Unless it’s not,” Olive said. “Just like we tell our clients who’ve been burned before, all relationships end. Until you’re in the one that doesn’t.”
“Okay, look, I get what you girls are thinking, and I even understand why. But Oliver is not the man for me and I am not the woman for him. Period. All right?”