Push by Sadie Rose

 

Icould feel the sunlight fluttering through the blinds on my face. I slowly pried my eyes open and instantly regretted it. The light felt like hot coals being pushed into my eyes. Madison and I stayed out far later than I expected. I also didn’t expect to have as much to drink but after my misstep with Raymond and my encounter with Roman, I threw all of my inhibitions into the wind. Madison of course was thrilled. I rarely indulge in drinking and the fact that I did so much last night has me remembering why I practice so much self-control. Before I can even pull my head off the pillow, there’s a soft knock on my door. Madison never gets up early and definitely not after a night of drinking. She looks about how I feel—awful.

“I didn’t want to wake you up but there’s a delivery man here and he has a package for you. I tried to sign for it but he won’t let me. He said it has to be you who accepts the package.”

I suppressed a groan and started to get up off the bed. The room started spinning and shut my eyes to make it slow down. Madison just stood there waiting on me, rubbing her temples and looking green. I got off the bed and made my way to the living room. Our apartment isn’t huge so it only takes a few steps to be in the kitchen and living room combo. Sure enough, the delivery man was standing on our doorstep holding a medium-sized box. He looked at me expectantly, “Olivia Monroe?”

“The one and only.”

“Sign here please.” He held out his electronic clipboard and I signed my name in a little scribble as he hands over the box. It’s not my birthday for a few more weeks and my mom can never keep a secret. She would have told me to expect a package so I have no idea who this could be from.

“Who’s it from?” Madison is already asking me before I can get it inside. I walked over to the kitchen and opened a drawer, looking for our scissors to open the box.

“I have no clue,” And I really don’t. Unless it’s a gift from Madison or my mom there’s no one else that would send me anything. Sad but true.

“Well, open it,” she ordered me from the living room. She abandoned rubbing her temples and was staring at the package. I was just as curious. I sliced the tape on the box and pulled the flaps back. When I looked down inside the box, I found there was another box. I pulled the box out, noticing a silver box with a red bow tied on top. The card attached proclaimed that it was from Neiman Marcus. I pulled the bow off and slid the lid to the side.

Madison crept up behind me and peered over my shoulder, “Who would send you something from Neiman’s?”

Since I had no clue either, I let her question float out in the air. I push the delicate paperback and find a white lace and chiffon blouse top. I immediately think of Roman. I know he’s the one who sent this. But where did he get my address? Duh! I work for him, he has my information. He has my social security number at his disposal so why wouldn’t he have my address. My heart is beating a little too fast and while I try to tell myself that he’s just sending me a replacement for the shirt that got ruined, it feels like more than that.

I took the blouse out of the box and held it up to myself. “That looks expensive,” Madison was admiring the top and pushing the paper around in the box. She handed me a white envelope embossed with the Devereaux Industries logo. “Well, I think it’s safe to say we know who it’s from.”

I snatched the card from her. It feels smooth and soft in my hand. I’m sure his stationery budget is more than our grocery budget is for the year. I break the seal and pull out a single white card.

Olivia,

Please accept this gift as an apology for my clumsiness. I hate to think of you experiencing any awkwardness or embarrassment. But if you happen to find yourself in need of rescuing please do not hesitate to call me.

415-555-9035

Roman

After reading it once more, I hand it to Madison who is eyeing me like I’ve grown a third arm. She reads the note and hands it back to me, “Oh my God! Oh. My. God! He’s totally flirting with you! He gave you his number. He wants you to call him. Are you going to?”

For the first time in a long time, I feel guilty. I hadn’t mentioned anything to Madison about Roman asking me out last night at the club. She knew he had helped me out of the situation with Raymond but she had no idea that I had already been asked out and declined. I shook my head at her and kept my eyes on the ground. I needed to tell her the whole story of what happened at Trifecta, “I don’t know Madison. I work for him. He’s so sexy though and when I’m near him it’s like I can’t control my thoughts or my hands. Last night at the club, he cornered me and asked me out. I told him I couldn’t but I really wanted to say yes.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me! You’re kidding me… right?” Her voice was an octave higher than normal, “You turned down a date with Roman Devereaux? Are you crazy? Ollie, he’s hot! And he’s rich!”

I purse my lips at her thoughts, “You know it’s not about the money.” I can feel my head throbbing and turn my back on her as I start to look for the pain relievers.

“Oh, I know that. That’s not what I meant Ollie… I’m sorry. It’s just that he’s freaking hot and rich! Can you imagine seeing him naked? God, the idea alone is a wet dream. I bet we can google him and find the photos.” She was laughing now at her own idea.

“Don’t do that, don’t search for him. And don’t be gross either. There will be no more dreaming of Roman Devereaux.”

“See… you already dream about him!” She shouts at me as I slowly walk back to my room.

I had read Roman’s note at least five times during the day. It was starting to get late and I got into bed. I could see the blouse hanging in the front of my closet and it was probably the nicest article of clothing I owned. Madison had searched it online and told me, meaning it was definitely the most expensive top I had ever owned. I laid there and looked at the ceiling. I turned on the television and tried to distract myself from my thoughts. One of my favorite Seinfeld episodes was on but even Jerry and Elaine couldn’t distract me from thinking about Roman’s note.

I leaned over and pulled it from my nightstand, and grabbed my phone and added him to my contacts. I needed to at least thank him for the blouse. I told myself it had nothing to do with the fact that he was the most gorgeous man I had ever met, ever laid eyes on. I looked at the time, it was too late to call. I clicked on his name and quickly typed out:

“Thank you for the blouse. It’s perfect.” I don’t know why but I suddenly felt so bold. It was a text message, he couldn’t see my face. He wouldn’t be able to see me blush at my next words, “ Just like you.” Was I telling him that he was perfect? Yes, but did he already know? Probably. I hadn’t voiced it to him but I’m sure my continuous blush gave him an inkling to my thoughts. My thumb hovered over the send button. It didn’t matter. I couldn’t send it. He would think I was nuts. He was just being polite. I started to lay back in bed and before I realized it my phone slid out of my hand and I tried to catch it. I could hear the familiar swish noise of my text sending. Oh no! Oh my God. No, No, No! Can I unsend the message? Oh no. It says delivered. I felt like I couldn’t catch my breath.

I sat up, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” I quickly typed out. I was about to hit send but my phone buzzed with an incoming text.

We have something in common. Both of us think we are perfect.

I put my phone down on the blanket and stared at it, swallowing a lump in my throat. He responded immediately and knew that it was me. For a Saturday night, I figured he would be out on the town again but he couldn’t have been that busy to text me back immediately. I had this immediate sense to want to know what he was doing; if he was alone.

I texted him back: Well you did ask me out on a date.

A few seconds later he responded: To which you said, no. Have you reconsidered?

He still wanted to go out with me. So he hadn’t been drunk when he asked me last night. I had considered that he might be but even if he was, apparently he was going to double down on it and still wanted to go out. I thought about all the reasons why I should and all the reasons why I shouldn’t. Before I could think too much into it, I typed out a reply, If eating free lunch in the cafeteria counts then maybe so. Otherwise, the answer is still the same.

I felt so free in my answers to him when I wasn’t staring into his dark eyes. I felt bold in this form of communication. I laid back on the bed and waited for him to reply. I stared at my phone for fifteen minutes before giving up. I put my phone face down on my nightstand and tried to fall asleep. Eventually, my dreams overtook me and Roman was once again the star attraction.