Company Ink by E.L. Lewis

t h i r t y – t w o

I fiddle with the folded-up piece of paper in my hand, lingering outside Pearson & Associates. I've never had to write a resignation letter before. Bless you, WikiHow. Even though I think it's unfair that I'm the one that needs to resign, despite the fact Adrian was equally involved in this shit show, I kind of get it. Adrian brings in a lot of business and I'm not actually getting fired, but it feels like I am. God, this is fucked up.

It's 8 am, far too early for most of the staff to be clocked in, but I know Blake is here. Possibly Adrian.

My parents were thrilled to see me yesterday. Thrilled. My dad hugged me, again. This might just be something we do now. I helped them pack for most of the day while ignoring every message from Adrian. When I finally responded to him, he didn't seem angry. I told him I was busy, which I was, and that was that. We talked briefly on the phone about this damn letter and my day. And now I'm here, literally shaking in my boots (okay, they're wedges but the sentiment's the same).

I take a deep breath, making my way to Blake's office. I knock quietly, my palms sweating, my heart racing. "Blake?" I call out softly.

"Come in." Neutral. Professional. Void of any familiarity.

I open the door and step inside. The air is icy, distant. God, he's pissed. "Good morning," I begin, striding to his desk and placing the letter down. "Umm...here's my resignation."

Blake doesn't look up from his computer, but I can tell that he's tired, drained.

"You printed out an actual letter?" he asks flatly. "You should've just sent an email."

My jaw tightens. "You said to have it onyour desk first thing this morning."

Blake rotates his head, his blue eyes landing on my face, serious and heavy. "It's a figure of speech, Cassandra," he sneers. "Don't take everything so literally."

Wow. Okay.

"Noted," I huff. God, he's being so fucking salty right now. "I'll be clearing out my desk if you need anything in the next hour."

"I'll be fine," Blake says bitterly. "But maybe Adrian will need a hand with something. I'm sure you'll be more than willing to help him, right?"

My eyes narrow, anger spiking. "Why are you acting like such a dick?" I ask, my voice rising. "You have no right to be mad at me. I didn't do anything wrong."

Lie. Big lie.

Blake scoffs, letting out a frenzied chuckle. "Really? I think that engaging in an office romance with your superior is the definition of wrong."

I shake my head. Unbelievable. Such a hypocrite.

"And what? Kissing me wasn't 'wrong'? Aren't you my 'superior' too? If I recall correctly, which I do, you kissed me. So don't sit there, all high and mighty, acting like I'm this tramp and you're some wounded little dove!" I pause. "Why did you kiss me? Hmm? Why? If getting involved with your colleagues is so wrong, why'd you, do it?"

Blake stiffens. "Momentary insanity comes to mind," he jeers. "I don't know what I was thinking; must have been all the ocean water in my ears."

"Oh!" I let out a frantic laugh. "Really? Because it sure as hell felt like something more."

"Well, it wasn't," he seethes.

"Are you sure?" I cross my arms. "Really?"

"Yes, really!" he barks, his eyes alarmingly vivid. "Why are you still here anyway? Why don't you go and run along to Adrian? I'm sure you two will be very happy together. I mean, he's completely unstable but you seem to like that. You've made your decision perfectly clear."

He's joking. He has to be.

"Oh, my decision? Like I had a choice?" I ask, my body tensing. "Really? When? When you kissed me and then fired me ten seconds later? That was my choice?" I run a hand through my hair. "God, you're unbelievable, Blake! You didn't even give me a chance to explain, you just flipped out and left. Funny, I guess we're both runners, huh?"

"Explain what, Cassandra?!" Blake shouts, slamming his hand on the table. "He was in your room, holding fucking flowers and champagne. I'm not naive so don't patronize me. Why else would he be there if you two weren't involved?"

How do I explain? How?

"I texted him," I say, my tone leveled, calm. "Because I was mad at you. I know that's juvenile but—"

Blake throws his head back, exasperated. "You were mad at me? For what? Telling you the truth? Reassuring you that Ness's accident wasn't your fault? You were mad at that? Really? Jesus fucking Christ, Cassandra." He shakes his head. "You're so immature. I can't believe I thought we had a future."

"What?" I blink, my heart dropping into my stomach. "You thought what?"

Blake stills, his jaw clenching. "I think we're done here."

"No! Repeat what you just said," I demand. "Go on. Say it, Blake. I thought you said that kiss meant nothing. Tell me the truth, why'd you kiss me?"

Future. He said it. I heard it. Say it again. Do it!

"Leave." Blake balls up his fists. "Now!"

"Now look who's being immature," I say, taking a deep breath. "Do you like me, Blake? Do you? Tell me."

Blake stares at me, his hooded eyes scanning my face, no hint of kindness or admiration, just pain.

"Not anymore," he says dryly, shifting his attention back to the computer. "Close the door behind you."

"You're such a coward," I whisper. "You should've told me how you felt sooner. You should've done something about it."

"Goodbye, Cassandra," Blake states sharply.

My hands tremble as I walk towards the door. Coward. I turn my head around and add, "And by the way, Adrian and I never had sex." And I slam the door.

God! He's so fucking frustrating! I get that he's angry, that I hurt him, but he's acting like I cheated on him. Like I betrayed him. Like I stomped all over his heart knowing that he liked me. Obviously, I knew there was something between us. But we weren't dating. We weren't exclusive, hell, we never even fucking kissed. He never made a move. And now I'm the bad guy? Ridiculous.

I begin shoving all my shit into the banker's box. Deja-fucking-Vu. I stare at Stella Junior; she's flowering, growing, maturing. Unlike me. Immature. He said that I'm immature. Am I? God... Am I?

I head over to the kitchen to grab my coffee mug, my mind flooded with emotions. I need to get my shit together. This isn't normal. This shouldn't have happened. I am immature. I'm stupid. So, fucking stupid. This was a job. These were my bosses. Why did I think I could act this way? Blake was right; I don't think about the consequences. I never have.

"Cassie?"

"What?" I growl, lifting my eyes up to find Adrian standing in the doorway. "Oh, it's you."

Adrian smiles, nodding towards my mug. "I'd rather be in bed?"

I read the cute little cursive writing on the cup. "I'd always rather be in bed," I say, walking towards him. My heart rate slows down as I scan his face. No anger. No pain. Just contentment. "Hi."

Adrian wraps his arms around my waist, and I look around, making sure that we're alone. Not that it matters. I don't work here anymore. "Hi to you too, Cariño." He kisses me, his lips velvety and warm. "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay," I breathe, leaning into his chest. "Better now." Forget Blake. Forget him.

Adrian's grip tightens around my body, pulling me closer. "Do you want to get some breakfast? I have time before my first meeting. Maybe that little French cafe down the street? They have macaroons."

I chuckle into his shoulder. "It's a bit early for sweets, isn't it?"

"Oh, it's never too early for pastries, querida." His chest vibrates. "Come on, let's go."

"Okay, fine but I also want a croissant." We pick up the box off my desk and head towards the elevators.

"Going all out?" he jokes.

"Might as well." I peer inside my box and realize I've forgotten to pack Stella Junior. Shit. "Hold on, I need to go and get my plant," I say, handing Adrian the banker's box.

"I'll be here," he says, and I run back inside the office.

When I get to my desk, Blake is standing there holding Stella Junior in his hand, observing her like she's an ancient relic that belongs in a museum.

"Can I have my plant?" I ask, stopping a few feet away from him, my tone neutral. Easy.

Blake's eyes flicker between Stella Junior and me. Unreadable. "No."

My forehead creases. "No? Seriously? It's my plant."

"Technically I bought it, so it's mine," he says dryly.

"Blake, just give her to me," I almost beg. "Don't be difficult."

"Difficult? Me?" He lets out a laugh. "That's rich."

"Why are you doing this?" I reach out to grab her, but he pulls away. "Oh my God. You're a child."

Blake, swallows, his eyes latching onto mine. "You didn't sleep with Adrian?"

"Seriously? You're joking, right?" I flap my arms. "I'm not discussing this with you. Not here. Not in the office."

"Oh, she's suddenly a professional," he jeers. "Wow, who would've thought you had it in you."

"You're being so petty right now, Blake." I'm so done with this. With him. "Just give me Stella so I can leave."

"No, I won't."

My eyes widen with disbelief. "Why not?" I can't believe we're having this conversation right now.

"No reason," he hums. "Maybe I like plants."

I roll my eyes. "Since when?"

Blake shrugs. "A few months ago."

"Really?" This is absurd.

"Mhmm." Blake nods his head. "I find the process of photosynthesis to be fascinating."

I blink, getting really tired of this game. "Fine. Keep her."

Blake's eyebrows knit together. "Really?"

I shake my head. What does he want from me? "Yes, whatever, I don't care anymore. I have to go, Adrian's waiting—" Shit.

"Oh, Adrian's waiting for you?" Blake's expression tightens. "Of course."

"Do you have something you want to say, Blake? Say it now."

He studies me for a minute. I can see it. The words. On the tip of his tongue. But nothing. Not a sound. Barely a breath. Just silence. Shitty, awkward, messy silence.

"Well?" I probe, crossing my arms.

"Bye, Cassie," he finally says, turning on his heel and walking past me.

I grunt, marching back to the elevators. What the hell was that? He's keeping Stella? Just to spite me? Unbelievable.

"Where's the plant?" Adrian asks as I approach him.

"Uh…I threw her out," I lie. "She was dying." Blake better not fucking kill her. She's so young.

Adrian frowns. "Well, that's okay, you can always buy a new one, right?"

"I think I'm over plants," I mutter. "Too much work."

Adrian laughs. "Maybe we can get you a nice rock. I hear those things are very low maintenance."

I grin in spite of myself. "Mmm...funny."

Adrian tosses me a wink. "I try."

We walk to La Pâtisserie Parfait, the quaint little French bistro on the block. I've never been in here before, something about seven-dollar croissants just throws me off. The interior is laced with gold detailing and baby pink hues, flowery curtains and Rococo inspired seating. It's cute. Very bougie.

"Why don't you take a seat and I'll grab us a few things, okay?" Adrian asks, taking off his jacket. "I'll make sure to ask for the baker's favorite."

I chuckle. "You remembered."

"Of course, Cassie," he smiles. "I'll be right back."

I scroll through my phone as I wait for Adrian, the reality of everything setting in. I won't ever see Blake again. That was it. He had a chance to tell me how he felt. He chose not to say anything. That was his choice. It's done. It's over.

And I have Adrian.

And I like Adrian. I do. A lot actually. And now, that the games between us have stopped, he feels more real to me. More human. More kind. More caring. Boyfriend material. And I'm happy. I am.

My phone buzzes.

Kitty: Where da fuq are you? Nadine said you RESIGNED? CALL ME ASAP

Oh God, Kitty.

Cassie: I'll call you later. Busy rn

Kitty: <Frown emoji> Cassifrass, I am pissed at you. What happened? Y u no tell me?

I laugh at my screen. She's insane. But I kind of love her.

Cassie: Long ass story. I'll call you in like an hour. PROMISE

Kitty: FINE. smh...

Cassie: one hour! You'll survive until then!

Kitty: yeah, we'll see! Ok. ttyl

I put my phone away as Adrian comes to the table with two cups of coffee and an assortment of goodies.

"Did you buy every single pastry?" I laugh. "This is way too much. Are you feeding a small village?"

Adrian places everything on the table and sits down. "I asked for the baker's favorite," he explains. "But it seems as though he doesn't have a favorite, so I got one of each, plus two coffees."

I eye the steaming hot beverages. "Is this one decaf?" Damn it, I forgot to ask.

Adrian grins. "Of course."

"What, really?" I tilt my head. "It is?" I don't remember mentioning to Adrian that I don't drink regular coffee. "How did—"

Adrian shrugs. "I saw your Starbucks order a few times. It always said decaf on the label."

"Oh..." I take a sip of the coffee. "You're very observant."

Adrian chuckles. "Only about things I care about," he says warmly.

My body relaxes. He cares about me. He's saying it. He's showing me. He's not scared. He's not a coward. This feels right. Me and Adrian. Yes. This is good. This is what I want.

"So, I was thinking," Adrian begins. "With everything that's happened between us, we've never actually gone on a real date yet."

"You know what? I think you're right," I say coyly.

Adrian places his hand on my thigh, smirking. "So, how about it? Shall we paint the town red, Cariño?"

"What did you have in mind?" I ask, placing my hand atop of his. "What does a date with Adrian Cavallero look like?"

Adrian smirks. "You just wait and see."

"Friday?" I ask, leaning into his touch. Yes. This feels good. It feels right.

"It'll be a night you'll never forget," he grins. "I promise you that."

And for some reason, I know he's not lying.