Love, Technically (9 page)

Susan and Casey glanced at each other, obviously appalled at the little country mouse who didn’t know her boyfriend’s real name. She was such an idiot. Of course Sark wasn’t his real name. What parents named their baby Sark? Her heart cracked a little as she berated herself.

“So, am I fired?” She whispered the last word. How she managed to get any of it out without crying, she didn’t know.

Casey looked surprised. “Fired? Of course not. I couldn’t fire you for dating someone. But I can’t give you the coordinator job. That’s why I pulled you into this meeting. To let you know why you’re getting the administrative job. But keep your marketing ideas coming. I don’t want to lose them.” She gave a conciliatory smile. “Why don’t you take the morning off? Obviously you and Noah need to talk, and I need to hop on a conference call with our London team.” She stood up, shook Michelle’s hand, and walked out the door.

Susan from HR turned to her. “Did Noah do something wrong? Will this become an HR issue?”

Michelle, shaken and stunned, could only shake her head. She was the idiot, not Sark or Noah or whoever he was. Obviously relieved, Susan departed, leaving her alone in the conference room. Michelle sat huddled in her chair staring blankly into space.
I can’t be here anymore
, she thought as tears streamed down her face. Casey had said to take the day off. She was taking forever off. She’d never come back here. Never.

She raced out of the conference room, dodging one person, then crashing into another. It was Eve. She kept running

“Michelle. Hey Michelle, wait up.” Eve ran after her. “Casey just called me. Told me to come find you.”

Michelle ignored her friend and kept running. At the elevator bank, she slammed the call button, then collapsed on the carpet, burying her face in her hands.

Eve knelt next to her, rubbing a caring hand along her spine. “What happened to you back there? You ran like a Phish Head at a Metallica concert.”

“Don’t make jokes.” She lifted her head to look at Eve, swatting at the tears streaming down her face. “I can’t handle humor while my world is falling apart.”

“Drama much?” Eve said, but without rancor. “What happened? Did you have a fight with Sark?”

“Sark. Sark,” she kept repeating, hearing the wildness in her voice. “So you knew?”

“Knew what?”

“Knew that Sark and Noah Frellish were the same person. Oh, who am I kidding. Of course you knew.”

“Well, sure I did.” Eve examined her closely. “You didn’t?”

Wordlessly, she shook her head.

“Shit,” Eve muttered. “Look, let’s get out of here. You don’t want to make a scene. It’ll bite you in the ass when you come back to work.”

“What does it matter?” she sobbed. “I’m leaving. How can I stay here now?”

“Come on, drama queen.”

She allowed Eve to hoist her to her feet and practically drag her onto a waiting elevator.

“Damn, girl, and I thought you were levelheaded.”

“I am,” she said with a renewed burst of tears.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. I thought you knew. After you got cozy with Sark at the club, I assumed you knew he’s the boss.”

She shook her head. “I’m an idiot. I thought we had a serious relationship, and I didn’t even know his real name.”

“He’s a good guy. I’m sure he didn’t mean to lie.”

She met Eve’s gaze. “Oh, yeah. If he’s such a good guy, how come he slept with me? Good guys don’t deceive the women they sleep with.”

Eve toyed with one of the rings on her lip and looked unhappy. “I don’t know. I hate defending him when it sounds like he acted like a dick, but he
is
a good guy. I’m sure it was a misunderstanding.”

The elevator reached the main building lobby and they stepped out.

“What should I do, Eve?” she asked, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

“Go talk to him.”

“Absolutely not. I’ll look like more of a fool. Casey probably thinks I’m psychotic. Oh, my God, you should’ve seen the look on her face when I said I’d never met the CEO.”

Eve rubbed her shoulder and frowned. “Maybe you’re right. You’re too angry and not thinking clearly today. Go home. Take a day off, then try again tomorrow.”

The gray clouds hovering outside the lobby windows echoed her mood as they rolled over the buildings, casting dark shadows. She stared up at them for a while, planning her next move. “I will take the day off, but I’m not going to find him. He owes me an apology.”

“Agreed, but give him the chance to explain.”

“Why are you taking his side?”

“I’m not on either side. I’m friends with you both.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” It was unfair to put her in the middle.

“No apology necessary. You have every right to be pissed. Now, stay here. I’m going back upstairs to grab your purse out of your desk and to tell Casey you’re taking that sick day.”

…

“Open up, Michelle.” Sark pounded on the door, noting it was thin enough that he could probably break through it with one kick. But he knew he had to give her the choice. He kept banging. The door across the hall opened and a college-age kid stuck his head out.

“Dude. You gonna keep banging? I have a paper due tomorrow.”

“Sorry.” He turned and kept banging on the door. “Michelle, open up or I’m going to keep bugging your neighbors.”

“Shit,” the kid muttered and made a show of sticking earbuds in his ears and slamming the door.

Sark raised a fist to knock again but hit air, as Michelle’s door swung open and revealed her standing in the doorway. Something about her looked different. Though she didn’t normally cake on makeup, she looked pale but pretty without any on. She was in those yoga pants girls liked to wear and an oversize gray sweatshirt with a mascot on the front. He’d never noticed her clothes before, but seeing her in something different than her normal high-heeled fashion-forward outfits made this stand out.

“Come in,” she said flatly and turned her back without waiting to see if he followed.

He entered, looking around the small studio curiously. A futon with a black and turquoise geometric print comforter lay open against the biggest wall. A container of Breyers perched open on the tiny kitchen counter, dripping chocolate down the side onto the cracked tile. The place was old and tiny, but Michelle had added little touches to make it homey. Pretty, even.

Michelle collapsed onto the futon, crossed her legs at her ankles, and stared up at him.

He swallowed and wanted to sit, but didn’t know if he’d gained that right. “Eve found me at my desk this afternoon. She said she’d been looking for me all day, but I was in meetings. She said I needed to come find you, ‘like, yesterday.’” He moved his fingers in air quotes expecting a laugh. He didn’t even get a smile.

He wanted to crash on the couch next to her, but she gave off a strong
do not touch
vibe. “What’s going on? What happened? Was it Sydney?” Something was wrong. He didn’t know what it was, but he wanted to make it better.

Her eyes narrowed. “Sydney was a part of it.”

Now he was getting worried. The Michelle he knew was open and friendly. The woman on the couch was closed off and icy.

“I just want to know,” she burst out, “how hard did you laugh at me?”

“What?” He goggled at her.

“I mean, I know I’m a country hick, but I didn’t think I was
that
stupid. You proved me wrong, Sark. Or should I say Noah?”

What is she talking about?
“Is this about the job in marketing?”

She threw a pillow at him. “I don’t give a shit about the job.”

He winced. He’d never heard her curse before.

“I care that you lied to me. You never told me your real name.”

His stomach knotted at her words. “I already apologized for that, Michelle. As soon as I realized you didn’t know I was Noah Frellish, I told you.”

“When?” She rose and faced him. The anger pouring off her was hot enough to combust.

“The night after we first kissed. After I taught you Photoshop.”

“Funny. I have a pretty good memory, but I have no recollection of the words ‘
Michelle, my real name is Noah, not Sark. I’m the CEO of LightWave’
coming out of your mouth.”

“I wrote you a note and left it on your desk,” he protested.

“A note?” Her eyes widened, then she buried her head in her hands, and he thought he heard her mutter something about being the world’s biggest idiot.

“Michelle, I swear, I thought you knew. The first night, yes, I didn’t tell you. It just happened. When I met you, you seemed to like me for me. I worried that if I told you I was the CEO, you’d treat me differently. But as soon as we kissed, I knew I had to tell you. I truly thought you knew I was Noah. I never lied. At least I never thought I was lying.”

“No, I didn’t know,” she said, hurling the words as a weapon aiming to wound. It was working. “The naive little country girl had no idea who you were. Why didn’t you tell me the second you realized I didn’t know? Is CEO Noah too good to date an administrative assistant?”

He winced at the flatness in her tone. Her wild accusation showed how little she thought of him right then. “That’s not true. You know it’s not.”

“You were right. I will treat you differently, the way I treat anyone who lies to me.”

He stood and stalked over to her. His height let him loom over her. “I
didn’t
lie. I thought you knew.”

Her arms crossed over her chest. “It doesn’t matter anymore, does it? We can’t date.”

He dared to lay his palm gently on her forearm. “Why not? I don’t want things to change. You know me, Michelle. The
real
me. All my good friends call me Sark. Only business acquaintances call me Noah. I want to be with you.”

“We can’t be together because…” She flung her arms out and stopped talking. “I’ll feel like an idiot every time I see you. Everyone at the company probably knows by now how big a fool I am.”

“You’re not a fool. You’re amazing. I’m sorry. Michelle, please, I don’t want things to end between us. I want to be with you.”

“As what, Noah? Your girlfriend? Will we go public to the company? And then if I ever get a promotion, everyone will say I got it because I’m sleeping with you.”

“Let them. We’ll know the truth. Who cares what everyone thinks?” But he could see it was the wrong thing to say.

“I care. And the truth is you
knew
. You knew I was going to lose my job the second you met me at the printer that first night, and you acted like nothing was wrong. It took you days to tell me your real identity. Days, Noah. How can I ever trust you?” She brushed by him, walking to the front door.

“No! I liked you. I mean I
like
you. I was wrong for not telling you the moment we met. You can trust me, I swear.” He racked his brains for something to say to make her smile and forgive him, but he could see it was futile. The apartment door swung open and Michelle was gesturing toward the hallway.

“Good night, Mr. Frellish. I’d say I’ll see you tomorrow, but CEOs don’t generally hang out with admins.”

His legs felt like lead as he stepped to the door, stopping directly in front of her. He didn’t know if it was a good sign she couldn’t meet his gaze. “Good-bye. I’ll try not to mess things up for you at work.”

She nodded and slammed the door behind him.

After he was shut out, he stayed outside her apartment, catching his breath and sliding his back down the wall, until he sat on the grimy hallway carpet with his knees bent in front of him. He wished he could go for a grueling bike ride, but it was late at night, and even he wasn’t stupid enough to go careering down a trail in the dark.

The college kid’s door opened again. “Dude, she kicked you out.”

He nodded.

“Bummer.”

He nodded again, not having the energy for words.

“Hey, you’re Noah Frellish.”

He didn’t bother to respond.

“Dude, I interned at LightWave this summer. In the IT department.”

He glanced up and forced a weak smile. He guessed the kid looked a little familiar. “Cool,” he said faintly. “Will you be back this summer?”

“I’d love to, but I’m going abroad. I’ll be in Spain.”

He nodded again, unable to muster the slightest bit of energy for being polite when it felt like his heart had taken a header down a mountain and been trampled by a dozen trail bikes. He stood, using the wall as a crutch. “I’m gonna get moving now.”

“I’ll keep an eye on your girl for you.”

He turned back. “Thanks, but she’s not my girl. Not anymore.”

…

The next morning Michelle put on her big-girl panties and walked into the office, ready to face the mocking. Sydney was already at her desk and Michelle stopped for a minute, not sure how to handle it. She could say good morning as if it was any other day, pretending the kiss and the subsequent “bitch” comment hadn’t happened. Or she could charge in, spewing her feelings. She opted for a compromise.

“Good morning, Sydney.”

Sydney turned, looking surprised at the calm greeting. She didn’t seem too upset. Obviously she felt confident that her late-night calls to Casey had done their job and didn’t feel any threat from Michelle.

“Can we talk for a minute? In private?” Michelle gestured to the same conference room Casey had taken her to the day before.

“Uh, sure?” Sydney stood, obviously not sure how to handle a calm, mature Michelle.

Why not, though? Had she ever displayed anything less than professional behavior? No. Why was Sydney acting like she expected Michelle to come after her swinging? Was it what she herself would do, so she was surprised to find someone operating outside her realm of experience?

Michelle led the way to the conference room and waited until Sydney took a seat before closing the door. She sat down, not across the table, but on the same side, one chair apart. “You hurt me.”

Sydney opened her mouth to protest, but Michelle held up a hand. “No. Let me speak. You saw Noah and me kissing and assumed I’d gone after him for his money or to get the better job, since it was what you planned on doing. You jumped to the wrong conclusion.”