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"I miss you, Oliver. I miss you so much," I confessed, longing evident in my words.
"Enough to accept my proposal?" he asked, his voice full of hope.
"Suppose I say no? Will you stay away until I do?" I teased lightly.
"That's a good idea, but I wouldn’t be only punishing you," he replied with a hint of playfulness.
"I hate my job. I don’t want to go back," I confessed, feeling a sense of relief at opening up to him.
"Does that mean I gain a new employee?" Oliver asked.
"You might gain a new roommate because Sadie hates me right now," I admitted, feeling a pang of guilt for my earlier behavior.
"She doesn’t hate you, but you were rough on her this morning," Oliver pointed out gently.
"I know. I’m miserable without you," I said, the truth of my words weighing heavily on my heart.
Oliver chuckled, his voice warm and reassuring. "I'll be home on Thursday night."
"What do I do about work?" I asked, feeling uncertain about my job situation.
"I don’t think you should just walk out of your job. Give your notice, and I’ll get you squared away at Fox when I come home," he advised, his tone practical.
"What will I be doing?" I inquired, curious about my potential role.
"Personal assistant to me," he responded.
"Personal?" I repeated, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension.
"Yes. You’ll handle any and all personal requests by me," he explained, his words teasing.
"Such as?" I prompted, trying to gauge the extent of his jest.
"Ordering and eating meals with me, sharing afternoon orgasms, doing strip teases in my office while I’m on boring conference calls," he joked, his tone playful.
"I hope you don’t mind parting with your money because I think I have a clear-cut case of sexual harassment on my hands," I retorted, trying to keep up with his banter.
"You can have it all in exchange for your love," he countered, his words tender.
"What a bargain," I replied, unable to suppress a smile at his charm.
"Not really since your love is priceless. We can discuss where you should be placed when I get back," he assured me, his voice filled with affection.
"I won’t be working for you directly?" I asked, feeling a twinge of disappointment at the thought.
"Do you want to work for me directly? You were worried about familiarity breeding contempt," he pointed out, his words thoughtful.
"I don’t know what I want right now except you," I confessed, feeling a surge of emotion.
I heard shuffling in the background, and Oliver’s voice became muffled as he attended to something momentarily.
“I have my next meeting. Where are you anyway? I thought I would leave a message,” Oliver inquired.
“I left work early. I just got off the train,” I explained.
“Why didn’t you text Vlad?” he asked, concern evident in his voice.
“I just wanted to get away from there,” I admitted, feeling drained from the day's events.
