Not Sorry Page 8
A coat fit for a boss. Prove to me that you are one.
—Sean
I smile at the note. He got me an expensive coat. A beautiful coat that costs three times what my rent is.
“How did you afford that coat?” Keri asks.
I frown as I look at her. “Sean.”
Keri blinks several times but doesn’t say anything.
I grab my phone and begin typing a message to Jamie. Now, more than anything, I need to know what Sean does. I have to know how I hate a man that I also kind of love. He’s taken care of me more in the last few hours, not even being near me, than Owen did the whole year we were dating.
I press Send and then walk out the door with Keri running behind me.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“To get my cat back and to make sure that Owen knows we are still broken up.”
11
Sean
Fuck, I’m hungover.
And tired.
No, exhausted.
I could sleep for another week straight and still not get enough sleep. I thought I’d feel better after spending the last forty-eight hours doing nothing but sleeping and drinking. But I was wrong. All it did was make me feel worse. I feel no more rested than I was when I left, and I haven’t gotten the images of Olive out of my head any more than I could before I left.
So, that’s why I’m taking some drastic measures. I can’t get Olive out of my head, and I’m not sure if abandoning her in my apartment and not calling her is going to be enough to really make her hate me. I’m going to tell Olive the truth about what I do for a living. That’s the only solution I’ve come up with. If I tell her what I do for a living, then she’ll hate me. And, if she hates me, she won’t want to fuck me again. Problem solved. I might even get lucky, and she might quit.
Then, I can focus on what I really came here to do. Run a successful real estate company and to see if I still have a shot with Jamie. And, if I don’t have a chance with her, then I need to learn to get over her.
I step foot inside the office and expect it to be bustling with people, as it usually is on a weekday. I’ve learned from my week here and from speaking with Jamie on the phone that Monday through Friday are the busiest office days while the weekends are the busiest days for the realtors to be doing open houses and showing houses to clients. And my role as the boss is to get people straightened out during the week so that they can do their best at selling the most houses over the weekend.
But I don’t expect what I see when I enter the office. I was expecting the office to be a bit chaotic on Monday morning after a busy weekend and since I wasn’t here over the weekend to ensure that everything was running smoothly. But what I see when I walk into the office is complete chaos. People are running around everywhere with no clue as to what they’re doing. Papers are flying and strewed all over desks in complete and utter disorganization. But that’s not what worries me. Disorganization, I can easily fix. What scares me is the look on everyone’s faces as they run around the office. Something’s not right.
“What’s going on?” I ask Jennifer, one of the realtors, as she walks by.
She stops and looks up at me with fear in her eyes. “It’s Monday?” she half-asks and half-says, but I know it’s not the truth.
I sigh and continue walking to my office. I need answers, and I know the only woman who is going to give me any sort of honest answer as to what the hell is going on is Olive. And, as much as I’d rather hide in my office all day and wait to talk to her until later, it doesn’t seem that I’m going to get to wait.
I walk straight to her desk, but she’s not there. I glance at my watch. It’s a quarter till nine. Olive is always here by this time. Usually, she’s already been here at least an hour or more. I glance around the office to see if I can find her. But I don’t see her anywhere, and I don’t know where to start looking.
Floyd walks over. “Where is Olive?” he asks.
“I was wondering that myself.”
Floyd’s face turns to panic. “Shit.”
“What?” I say a little too sternly.
Floyd’s eyes dart from Olive’s desk to my eyes. “It’s just that there’s only been one other time when Olive was sick with the flu and didn’t come in to work. Happened about two years ago, and it was the worst week. Nobody sold any properties that week. It’s like she’s a good-luck charm or something. Or she put a curse on this place, and we can only sell properties as long as she is here.”
“What makes you think Olive is sick?” I ask.
“Do you see her anywhere?” Floyd says, annoyed.
He runs out to do God knows what while I stand, frozen, staring at the chaos. I’m beginning to think that the reason for the chaos might be because Olive isn’t here.
I haven’t had enough time this week to really see what Olive contributes to the team, but it seems she might contribute more than I ever gave her credit for. But whatever it is that she contributes, even if it’s as simple as just providing stability and normalcy for the rest of the employees, I’m going to figure it out.
But, in the meantime, there’s one thing I know for sure. Olive isn’t sick. She’s avoiding me. She’s too embarrassed to come into work after she let her boss bang her.
I stop the next person who walks by even though I don’t know her name. “Can you tell me Olive’s address?”
The woman shrugs. “No, but I’m sure Jamie has it somewhere.”
I pull out my phone as I walk into my office. I try Olive’s number first, but I get no answer. She is definitely avoiding me. I frown. It’s like everything I’ve taught her has already gone out the window. I’m fine with Olive quitting or thinking this isn’t the position for her. I’m not fine with her hiding. She doesn’t get to take the easy way out. I need her to fight for what she wants. So, I text Jamie and head back out to find Olive. And I hope that, in the meantime, the company doesn’t come to a crashing halt.
I pull up in front of her apartment building, but I can’t believe that this is where she lives. Jamie must have made a mistake when she sent me her address. I try calling Jamie and Olive, but neither of them answers. So, it leaves me no choice but to go inside and see for myself that this isn’t her place.
The apartment building doesn’t have a valet or parking garage that I can find, so I have to circle the box three times before I find any sort of street parking that’s close. Although, after seeing the neighborhood that she loves, I really wish I had taken a cab and left my car back in the parking garage at the office.
I jump out of my car and run inside the building, determined to make this as quick as possible so that nothing happens to my car. I head over to the elevator and see the large sign that says it is out of order.
Really? How can an elevator be out of order in an apartment building this tall?
I dash over to the stairs and run up, quickly taking them two at a time, struggling for breath. I might be in shape. I run and lift, but I’m not used to climbing stairs like this. When I finally make it to her floor, I’m sweating and out of breath. This is ridiculous. I’ve done all this, and I still don’t think she lives here.
I walk over to the door that is supposedly hers and knock, and I don’t hear any movement inside. I knock one more time before I decide to give up. But, just as I’m about to leave, the door opens, and Olive stares at me, wide-eyed, in the doorway.
“What…how…what are you doing here?” Olive asks, crossing her arms.
I grin, thankful that I finally found the right place. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“No.”
“Fine. Then, I have no choice but to believe that the reason you called in sick today is because of me. That you’re too embarrassed to see me again after we fucked.”
Olive frowns but opens the door wider, and I slip inside. I stare around the small place that she calls an apartment. But that’s obviously not what it is. It’s a closet or storage room. It’s definitely too small to be an apar
tment. I look around for a place to sit, but there is none. Because every inch of space in her apartment is filled with cookies, brownies, cakes, or muffins. I glance over at what is supposed to be her kitchen and have no idea how she’s made this many bakery items in such a small kitchen that I’m not even sure functions any better than one of those Easy-Bake ovens that kids use.
If this is all she can afford, she’s definitely not getting paid enough. Especially now that I know that, for some reason, the company practically falls apart without her there. But I’m not going to tell her that—at least, not yet. Not until I know that she has the confidence to actually earn the respect and that they think of her as a boss and not just a good-luck charm.
“Yeah, looks like you’re sick to me,” I say.
Olive glares at me. “I am sick.”
I look around at all the bakery items. “Then, why are you baking if you’re sick? Shouldn’t you be in bed? And aren’t you going to have to throw out everything now that they are contaminated with your sickness?”
An alarm goes off, and Olive walks over to the tiny oven. She pulls out a small pan of brownies and places it on the only space left on the counter. Then, she throws the dish towel at me. “Baking makes me happy. It relaxes me.”
“Relaxing won’t help you get over whatever sickness you have.”
“Migraines. I get migraines, especially when I’m stressed.”
“So, you’re telling me that I gave you a migraine?” I say, smiling.
She takes the tray of cookies off what I can’t tell is either a couch or bed and sits down, plopping the tray on her lap. She takes one of the cookies off the tray and starts eating it. “No, I don’t have a migraine because of you. I don’t care that you left me alone this weekend and didn’t call me. I’m not too embarrassed to go to work because I fucked my boss.”
I raise an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue because I just don’t believe her.
She sighs. “I’m anxious and stressed because Owen won’t give me my cat, Milo, back.”
I narrow my eyes at her. She’s never talked about a cat before, but then she does seem like the type to own a cat. Although I have no idea how two creatures could survive in such a small place.
“Have you learned nothing from me? If it’s your cat, you don’t have to ask permission. Just take the cat back,” I say.
“I tried, but it’s not as simple as that. Owen paid for the cat. I have no legal right to Milo, and he’s trying to blackmail me, so I’ll take him back. Because it turns out, he didn’t really cheat on me. It was just a quick kiss between him and his sister. It turns out, he was going to propose.”
My eyes widen when she says propose because Owen definitely doesn’t seem like the type, and it pisses me off that anyone would think they had a claim to a woman I just fucked.
“And you don’t want to marry him anymore because of me?”
She looks up from her tray of cookies as her eyes grow darker. “No, not because of you, you idiot. I don’t want to marry him because I’ve realized that I don’t really love him. I’m not ready to marry anyone yet. I want to be by myself for a while and figure out what I want without a guy. I just want my cat back.”
I stare at her a second longer, trying to tell if she is telling the truth or not. “Then, let’s go get him.”
12
Olive
My heart is pounding right along with my head as Sean drives us toward Owen’s apartment. Sean is talking, trying to pep me up to talk to Owen, but he doesn’t understand that it isn’t going to work. I’ve already tried talking tough to Owen. I have no legal right to the cat. And I doubt that Owen will even open the door. It’s before noon. He’s probably still asleep. And I was stupid enough to date a guy for a year without asking for a key to his place.
Maybe Sean will know how to break into his place, or maybe he knows the owner of the apartment complex, and he’ll let us into Owen’s place. I grab my head that is pounding worse than it ever has before. I shouldn’t get my hopes up. I’m not getting back my cat or anything else I left at his place.
“Olive, are you listening to me?” Sean asks.
“Huh?” I say, looking at him, as he pulls the car in front of Owen’s apartment building.
Sean searches my eyes for a second as the valet opens my door. “You got this, Olive. Just treat him like you would me.”
I nod and get out of the car, but my legs feel unsteady the second I get out. I start walking toward the door, but between my head pounding and my legs being weak and wobbly, I know there is no way I’m going to make it without falling and embarrassing myself even more in front of Sean.
I feel myself going down when Sean catches me.
“Thank you,” I say weakly.
“You should go training with me sometime. Build up some strength in your legs.”
“It’s not—”
Sean grabs my chin and kisses me, stopping me from thinking. I don’t know how he does it, but when he kisses me, it’s like he transfers some of his confidence into me. The kiss isn’t meant to be loving or sexual. It’s a confidence boost.
When Sean pulls away, he stares at me with a serious expression. I was expecting his sexy grin or a smirk to be smeared on his face because he knows full well that his kiss affected me. But it’s not there.
I narrow my eyes as I study him and try to understand what he is feeling, but I can’t. I don’t know him well enough, and it’s clear that he doesn’t let anyone in.
So, I turn my attention away from Sean and start walking into the apartment building with his hand on the small of my back, ensuring that I’m not going to fall again. But I don’t want his hand on me. I don’t want his help. I want to do this on my own. So, I walk faster until Sean is no longer keeping up with me. I automatically go to the stairs instead of the elevator.
“You know this place has an actual functioning elevator, like a normal apartment should?” Sean says.
I pause at the entrance to the stairwell and turn to look at Sean. He’s standing with his hands in the pockets of his gray suit pants. He looks so perfect, beautiful. He looks like a successful adult who knows what he wants in his life. Meanwhile, I’m wearing pajama pants, a sweatshirt, and the coat Sean got me. I’m a mess while he is perfectly put together.
“You have a problem with my apartment? Then, pay me more. It’s the best I can afford.”
One of Sean’s eyebrows rises.
“I’m taking the stairs. I like the stairs. I don’t like elevators,” I say.
Then, I realize that I might have made a mistake because Sean’s face lights up at that. He thinks he knows some deep, dark secret about me, but he doesn’t. I don’t like elevators. I like the burn and the time to think that climbing the stairs offers better than the silence and awkwardness that an elevator provides. That’s it.
I start running up the stairs, but I don’t hear Sean behind me. I finally make it to Owen’s floor, and I’m completely out of breath, but it feels good. I walk out of the stairwell and down the hallway toward Owen’s apartment when I see Sean leaning against the wall with a smirk on his face. I stop, completely out of breath, in front of him.
Sean leans down to my ear and says, “I like elevators better. Why waste energy on anything you don’t need to? I’d rather reserve my energy for other more enjoyable things.”
A shiver runs up and down my spine. I walk past Sean, ignoring his smirk and comment. I walk up to Owen’s apartment door and knock loudly. I ignore what Sean is doing to my heart. I can’t do this if I’m thinking about Sean.
I don’t give Owen much time to come to the door before I start knocking loudly again, and this time, when I start, I can’t stop. I knock on the door the same way that others might punch a pillow. It’s a way to get my frustration and anger out. But, instead of making me feel weaker, the pounding on the door makes me feel stronger than ever.
I feel myself punching air as the door swings open, and Owen stands in the doorway, looking at me.
I look him up and down while I wait for him to speak to me. I no longer feel embarrassed by how I look because Owen looks worse. It’s clear he just woke up, and while I have the excuse of being sick with a migraine, Owen just looks hungover and pathetic.
Owen rubs his head, like my voice was too loud for him. “What are you doing here, Olive? We already had this conversation.”
“We are going to have it again and again until I get what I need, Owen.”
“What you need? What about what I need, Olive? You can’t just break up with a man over a misunderstanding, Olive. That’s not fair!”
I laugh. “Fair? You want to talk fair? How about how, in our entire year together, you never once treated me well? We did everything your way, never mine. How fair is that? I’m not sorry that I broke up with you, Owen. I don’t have to have a fair reason or any reason to break up with you. I broke up with you. Find someone else to fuck or not. I don’t care. But, most importantly, give me back my cat!”
My face is red, and I’m completely out of breath. But my body is steady. I don’t feel dizzy anymore. I don’t feel like I’m about to faint or fall over. I feel strong.
I search Owen’s eyes, but I know that he is so much of a dick that he isn’t ever going to give in to me. And I know, if I involve the police, I’m going to lose. I only see one option left at getting my cat back. So, I take it.
I run as hard as I can, trying to fit between the tiny gap that Owen has left between his body and the opening to his apartment. I run and think that I’ve made it inside when I feel his hands come around me, pushing me back. His hands go around my neck as he pushes me back out of his apartment, and his eyes are dark with rage. I’ve never seen Owen so pissed off before. Not even when he was drunk and thrown out of a bar.