“No.”
The response was so curt, so I’m not even listening to you anymore that she wanted to snap her fingers in his face to get his attention.
Liv’s fingers curved around the back of the chair she was standing behind. Earlier in the week, she’d been debating going back to Finn’s place, wondering if she’d made a huge mistake. But now that Preston was pushing back on her, she realized how useless the internal debate had been. He could pull the plug on it without her even having a say. “What about working remotely? Everything I need is on my laptop.”
He let out a belabored breath, like she was officially annoying him now. He set his pen down. “Olivia, I’m sorry, but it’s not going to work. I need you here. You saw what happened when you were gone for two days. We can talk about vacation near the holidays when things slow down.” His gaze shifted to his computer screen, dismissing her. “And hit the brew button on the coffeepot on your way out. It’s going to be one of those nights.”
Liv stood there, anger making her freeze up.
She wasn’t one to make waves at work. Even with her carnal knowledge of her boss, she was nothing but a professional here. She’d done the rebel thing in her teen years and in college and had been burned thoroughly. She’d learned that life was easier when you played along, did your job, didn’t get labeled difficult. But something deep inside her was on fire, and the flames were gaining ground. She knew what she was supposed to do. Act rationally. Swallow her frustration. Go to her desk and suck it up. Get her work done. Get Annabelle’s work done. Make Preston some fucking coffee.
But her legs wouldn’t move.
When Preston glanced up and noticed her still standing there, he frowned. He didn’t say it, but the sentiment was clear: Why are you still here?
She didn’t have an answer.
Not for why she was still in his office. And not for why she was still here. In this job. In this place. In this life.
“I need the weekend, Pres,” she said finally. “I’m taking it.”
His eyebrows disappeared beneath his over-styled, messy-on-purpose hair. “That’s not for you to decide.”
She took a breath and released the chair in front of her. “It is, actually. Fire me if you need to.”
That seemed to snap some of his bravado. He groaned and scraped a hand through his hair. “Olivia, what the hell is going on with you? You’re my partner in crime when shit hits the fan here. I’m telling you I need you, and you’re threatening to bail? This isn’t you.”
“Maybe you don’t know me then.”
He scoffed. “Don’t know you? Come on.” He got up from behind the desk and stepped around it to perch on the front, facing off with her. He gave her a confident smirk, the one the interns got all doe-eyed over. “I’d say we know each other pretty well. I know you have a cute birthmark on your inner right thigh.”
Her nails curled into her palms. “That’s not knowing me. That’s fucking me.”
His smile fell. “I know you’re a perfectionist like me. I know your clients matter to you. I know that you don’t go off on whims and leave a client hanging. I know you’re like me.”
“Like you,” she said, her voice flat.
“Yeah.” He stepped forward and put his hands on her shoulders. “We get each other because this job is our life. We know that’s what it takes to get ahead. So don’t threaten me with walking out when I know that’s not what you want to do. If you don’t have this, what do you have? Because I know what that answer is for me.”
The words hit her like hot needles, each one a prick to her skin, drawing blood. If she didn’t have work every day, what did she have?
A generic apartment. A few friends she occasionally met up with for lunch. A couple of TV shows she recorded. A family that loved her as long as she was their version of a well-behaved, contributing member to society.
She swallowed hard.
Preston smiled at her lack of answer. He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Why don’t you take the rest of the night off, and I’ll take care of Annabelle’s issue? Get some sleep and then come back with your head together in the morning. I’ll be working all weekend, too, so we can keep each other company.”
“Pres…”
His smile remained in place. “Yeah?”
She removed his hand from her shoulder. “You have no clue who I am.”
“Olivia,” he said, the word full of impatience.
“I quit.”
His pretty-boy eyes went wide, and her stomach did a roller-coaster plummet.