Left of the Slash, page 24
Annoyance fills my bones as I look at Olivia going over tomorrow’s proposal points. She’s looking down at a paper on her desk as Eden and I sit quietly like school kids in class. Olivia looks so good that it pisses me off. Her hair is in tight curls, and it feels like gray just looks good on her. She's in a bodycon dress with a long, matching gray jacket over it. Why couldn't she have come in looking like a fucking troll today? Hell, even with no makeup and her hair a mess, she’d still stun my heart into rapid beats, so who am I kidding?
I try to listen as she goes over everything, but I know this proposal by heart and I'm basically only going to be there to back her up, so it’s easy for me to mute her mouth and solely focus on her annoyingly gorgeous face as her lips move and seduce me. I can feel Eden glancing at me every now and then, alternating between taking notes and watching me gawk at Olivia, and I don't care. I guess this is the part where I have broken the rules. I don't fucking care if anyone sees me staring at her. She’s mine to marvel at. Or at least I thought she was.
“Alright, so unless either of you has something new that you think we should add, I think that’s just about it,” Olivia says, finally looking up at us. Her eyes linger on Eden longer than they do me, but I take advantage of the little time that I get and stare directly at her in a way that she knows has nothing to do with this fucking proposal. We were building a connection that was bigger than any pitch, and I can't help the anger I feel at her for pushing it aside for something that matters less.
“No, I think we’re good. I’m excited,” Eden says as she closes her notebook and stands up.
“I wish I felt excitement right now,” Olivia says to her friend. “My goddamn nerves have become so sensitive I can barely take it. I can feel myself about to hyperventilate every time I think about the meeting tomorrow. I can't wait until it’s done and we have them as new clients.”
“I'm a little worried about Mr. Epson,” Eden says as the two of them start walking toward the door like I'm not even there. “I hear he’s a tough nut to crack and very hard to impress.”
Olivia shrugs. Her confidence isn't in tip-top shape. This is her first pitch and it just happens to be the most important in Obsidian’s history. I know she wants to scream into a pillow right now, but I can see her trying to convince herself that she's not terrified. She’s hanging onto optimism by a thin thread with bleeding fingertips, but she's clutching it nonetheless.
“It’ll be fine,” she says when they reach the doorway. “But I'm definitely going to need a drink tonight before I go to bed, otherwise I won't be able to get a wink of sleep.”
“Want to meet at Wonderland tonight?” Eden asks.
“Oh, absolutely,” Olivia replies.
The two of them giggle like the besties they are before Eden goes to her desk and Olivia steps back into the office. When she sees me standing here, her smile fades fast. She doesn't even maintain eye contact with me for very long, choosing to sidestep me and walk around to the chair behind her desk.
“Is there something else you need, Quinn?” she asks, sounding just like an uncaring CEO.
“Quinn,” I say, repeating my name as if hearing it from her lips offends me, because it fucking does. “I don't have anything to add about tomorrow, but we need to talk about what happened last night. I see you've made plans to hang with Eden. I guess that’s to make sure you don't spend the night thinking about calling me to come over.”
Olivia’s eyes roam around her desk like she's searching for lies there.
“No, it’s because I need to have a drink so I can sleep, just like I said,” she replies with an attitude, still keeping her eyes off of me. “As much as you want me to be thinking about you all the time, Quinn, I'm not. Tomorrow is the most important day of my life and in this company’s history. I'm focused on that. Not you.”
“That’s understandable, I know you're under a lot of pressure trying to save Obsidian—”
“Yes, I am,” she says, cutting me off. “Which is why I don't need this right now. Okay? I told you how I felt last night, and it hasn't changed this morning. If anything, I only mean it more now because we just had our last meeting about EWB, and I'm fucking nervous as hell. Can't you see that? You think I want the extra stress of dealing with feelings right now? I don't, Quinn, so please get over your own feelings and go back to your office to make sure you're ready for tomorrow.”
“I'm ready for tomorrow,” I say. “In fact, I'm ready for the next day. I'm ready for next week, Olivia, because I'm actually able to see past this moment and look ahead to the next. I can focus on more than one thing, unlike you.”
“Now you're just speaking out of anger,” she says, and I hate that she's right. “Just get out, Quinn. I don't have time for this.”
“You don't have time for me.”
“All I need from you is for you to be at EWB on time in the morning. I don't care about anything else past that. You'll be there, and you’ll do your job supporting me while I pitch to save the company my father built. Nothing else matters. Now get out of my office.”
I remember the last time we had a conversation like this. She tried to kick me out and I told her she could fire me if she really wanted me out. Of course she didn't fire me because she didn't really want me to leave, and we ended up fucking right here on top of her desk. It was the beginning of this incredible journey we’ve been having. Now look at us. What the fuck even is this?
I decide not to tell her to fire me if she really wants me out this time. Olivia already has enough on her plate, and with how stressed she clearly is about the pitch, she might actually agree to having me escorted out of the building. I hate that I care about making sure I'm not adding to her stress, but I am. I choose not to say anything else because it only can make matters worse right now, so I turn around and walk out quietly. My lips aren't moving when I pass Eden’s desk and enter the hall, but my mind is racing with frustration, my fists balled as tension creeps into my neck and makes my muscles feel tight. Just as I turn into my office, Rob rounds the corner and sees me fuming.
“Damn, man. You alright?” he asks, following me over the threshold.
I walk behind my desk but can't even bring myself to sit down, so I just pace back and forth instead.
“Yeah, I'm fine,” I lie, then force myself to keep it real. “Actually, I'm not fine. I'm not fucking fine at all. Olivia is tripping.”
Rob frowns, confused. “Wait, is this some work shit, or about your relationship with her?”
“See, even you thought we had a relationship, but I'm a clingy idiot for thinking it, too.”
“What happened? She broke it off?” Rob asks.
“She may as well have,” I answer, trying to keep my voice down as my anger pushes the volume higher. “I told her I had her back and wouldn't let her be disrespected by anybody, and she took it like I was saying she needs me or some shit. Now she's acting like we’re not together and like I'm a fucking idiot for thinking we were, even though she told me she was mine. She said a lot of shit that I believed. I guess I'm a dumbass.”
Rob sighs as he puts his hand on top of the chair next to him and leans over. “You are a dumbass, Q.”
My face contorts with bewilderment. “What?”
“We told you not to fall for that girl,” he says. “Back when you were explaining what the nature of your relationship with Olivia would be, we told you not to fall for her. I told you I didn't want to see you get hurt, and now look at you. You're clearly hurt. You should've never allowed yourself to feel anything for Olivia Lucero. She's thirty-five years old, has never been married, and dodges long-term relationships like she's afraid they'll make her physically ill. The only thing a woman like that is committed to is her work. How could you not have seen that?”
“I thought I could see it, but over time things change. I thought she was evolving with me. All of this shit about accepting who I really am and being unapologetic about it—it all started with her, and I thought she was coming with me, changing and growing for the better with me. I thought we were doing it together.”
“That was just you, bro,” Rob says. “You grew. She stayed the same. Sadly, the truth of the situation is that you may have outgrown her. I know that sucks to hear, but you’ve got to keep it real with yourself. You deserve better than what she's talking about. I know you like her, but you have to accept that.”
I lean against the wall behind my desk as my eyes fall from Rob to the floor. He's right. It does suck to hear, and it’s even worse that I know it’s true. I've grown over my time with Olivia, and she clearly hasn't. I hate that. I wanted her with me, but you can't force anybody to feel anything they don't feel for themselves. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make them drink. So I nod at Rob and let out a long sigh, accepting what I have no choice but to accept.
“You're right,” I say.
Rob sighs, too. “I'm sorry it didn't work out, man. You going to be okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll be good.”
“So what are you going to do now?”
“I'm going to keep growing,” I say, quickly finding my confidence as my anger fuels it. “I'm going to keep becoming the person I want to be. She isn't the only one who can focus on themselves. I’ll use all of this shit I'm feeling to fuel my glow-up.”
Rob smiles like the Cheshire cat. “That’s what I'm talking about. Make her regret losing you, bro.”
“Yeah,” I reply, nodding along. “She thinks she saw me grow while we were … whatever the hell we were. But she hasn't seen anything yet. Just wait until she sees what’s next.”
UNDERSTANDING
THIRTY-FIVE - Quinn
East-World Bank isn't as big as I thought it would be. The building is only a little larger than Obsidian’s, but the parking lot is full of luxurious cars that you wouldn't see in our lot. I manage to find a space in the second row, which gives me the perfect view of the two cars resting in the spaces closest to the building. These spaces have signs in front of them to make sure no one else parks there. The first is for Richard Saul, the CFO, and the other is for the CEO, Joel Epson. Richard drives an eggshell Porsche with tinted windows, while Joel is more subdued, choosing a high-end Lexus instead of anything fast. Joel wants to stay off of the police’s radar, while Richard wants to be too fast for the police to catch. It’s funny how cars can tell you about the person driving them, but I didn't need to see their vehicles to know about the two men waiting inside. I've studied them more than I needed to, overpreparing for the test instead of cramming at the last minute, and when I step out of my car to go inside, I'm ready for everything that’s about to happen. I take a final glance at the laptop in my passenger seat, wondering if I’ll actually need it. If it comes to that, then I’ll be back. For now, I turn around and walk in hoping we can do this the easy way.
My mood for the day can only be defined as sour. I taste it in my mouth and it makes my facial expression tight. I know what’s at stake here, and I know that one wrong move could jeopardize Obsidian’s future. No part of me wants to do that, but I’m also not in the mood to be fucked with right now. Olivia and Eden are waiting inside, and I feel like I have to close off my emotions before I see them. If I don't, then I’ll be on edge when we go in there, and that is almost never a good thing. I want Olivia to see that I'm closed off because she made me this way, and I can follow her lead for once and get into the same zone she's in. I can lock into my work, too. Once we’re done here, I’ll show no emotion and get on my work grind. If she doesn't want us to be a thing, then we won't be. Fuck it.
After a trip up an elevator, I'm greeted by a blonde receptionist in a pink blouse, who points to a group of chairs in front of her desk. I follow the direction of her finger and find Olivia and Eden already there. Eden, with her usual red aura, smiles at me like an old friend. Olivia, dressed in a conservative black pantsuit with her hair pulled into a tight ponytail, presses her lips into a thin line and nods her head. I barely nod back, batting away memories of her on her knees in front of me, gazing up at me with those beautiful eyes. I guess all of that is gone now. She severed our connection to give us space. So be it.
Damn.
The three of us sit in silence, the air thick with awkwardness until the receptionist gets a phone call that finally brings sound into the room. Her voice is high-pitched and dainty already, but she seems to elevate it even more when she speaks into the receiver. Then she hangs up and looks at the three of us as she stands.
“Mr. Epson and Mr. Saul are ready for you now,” she says in a much lower tone than before. “Right this way, please.”
We all stand at the same time, and Olivia is at the front of the pack when we walk down a short gray hall and turn into a conference room that is very similar to ours at Obsidian. For the first time, I feel nervousness swoop into the room like a breeze. This is it—the big day we’ve been waiting for. It’s not happening the way I thought it would, but it’s here nonetheless. No turning back now.
Everything inside is gray and black, the table is a short rectangle in the middle of the room, and in the center of it sit two older men in gray suits that are nearly identical with the exception of their ties. They are all wrinkles and dismissiveness, and they wear the latter like cheap cologne—it wafts off of them and fills the room. They eye all three of us as we’re ushered in by the receptionist, who leaves as we step over to the table, and go through a series of handshakes that feel disingenuous and trivial. I don't know if Olivia can see it like I can, but these people clearly have no intention of doing business with Obsidian. My heart sinks with the realization, but my determination ticks up.
Joel Epson looks like a man who has lived his entire life in wealth and luxury. His suit is pressed, and his all-gray hair is neatly combed backward to cover the few bald spots threatening to overtake his entire scalp. The skin on his face sags like plastic bags full of groceries, especially under his eyes and around his mouth, which seems to be stuck in an upside down smile. While I would say that he's easy to make fun of, I would also suggest that mockery be done quietly and in private, because Joel Epson does not look like the kind of person you make fun of to his face. If he wasn't a banker, I could see him as a mafia boss, putting out hits on people who owe him money—not too far removed from a bank CEO, I suppose.
“Good morning, Mr. Epson,” Olivia begins as the two CEOs shake hands. “I'm Olivia Lucero, and these are my colleagues—my assistant, Eden Graves, and our CISO, Mr. Quinn King.”
And just like that, we’re under way. Here we go.
“It’s nice to meet you all,” says Joel, although the tone in his voice says otherwise. “This is Mr. Richard Saul. He's the CFO here at East-World.”
Richard is a slender man in a red tie, with a face carrying less wrinkles than Joel, but still holding plenty. His blue eyes are piercing yet lifeless, and his shoulders are slumped as he presses his thin lips together to nod at us across the wooden table.
The three of us take our seats in a line next to each other, while the two of them sit in power positions side by side—straight backs and stiff necks, with their fingers clasped together in front of them on the table, ready to tell us “no” the minute our pitch ends.
“We appreciate you taking the time to meet with us, Mr. Epson,” Olivia begins, but she is immediately cut off by a raised hand used as a stop sign.
“Just call me Joel, please,” Mr. Epson says. “And I appreciate you making the drive over to us, but I have to be honest with you Miss Lucero—”
“Just Olivia, please,” she jumps in, giving Joel the same energy he gave her.
I smirk a little, because I know Olivia has prepared for this meeting, planning to show these two that she is a boss in her own right and that she is to be taken seriously. But how much did she prepare to have her back up against the wall from the very beginning? Did she plan on meeting men who are simply waiting to say no?
Joel pauses, clears his throat, then begins again. “Right. Fine. I have to be honest with you, Olivia, we were just as shocked as anyone to hear what happened to Diego, but we were never interested in switching firms. I'd like to be transparent and tell you that we merely took this meeting out of courtesy to Diego Lucero and his memory. You have our well-wishes and our deepest condolences, but to be completely honest with you, Diego’s firm isn’t big enough to handle an account like ours.”
Eden eagerly jots down notes as Olivia answers quickly. “Well, let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves. Obsidian is my company now, and as much as I can appreciate your attempt at shooting me down quickly, I think you're going to want to listen to our offer before you make a final decision.”
Richard rolls his eyes while Joel sighs, and my skin prickles.
“Why is that, Olivia?” Joel asks. “From what we understand, you don’t have any experience at this level. We appreciate and respect Diego’s wish to appoint you as his replacement, but we’re happy where we are, and it’s hard to have confidence in someone you don’t know personally, and who doesn't seem qualified on paper for this position. No offense. Most importantly, though, we’re just happy with our current cybersecurity firm.”
