Page 9 of Tell Me What you Think

Olga has been in this office before, but always with Ricard, for some meeting her boss had with Marina—never alone with her.

"Sit down."

Sometimes Olga wishes Marina weren't so kind. That, at least, might make it easier to keep her feelings in check. But the woman is damn near flawless, which only ever makes things worse.

"I'm guessing you know Ricard is retiring," Marina begins.

Olga takes a sip of her coffee before answering.

"Yes, he told me yesterday, but I don't know who's taking over."

"Neither did I until yesterday, but here I am—I just signed the paperwork."

Olga's jaw drops first, then her eyebrows shoot up, and finally her heart does a full somersault.

"You? I mean, I'm not surprised, it's just—" she stops, because this woman short-circuits her brain in ways that should be illegal, and she'd rather take a breath than say something so stupid that Marina thinks she's even more of an idiot than she probably already does. "Wow. I'm really happy for you—congratulations," she finally manages, pleased she at least got through it without stuttering.

"Thank you. I'll need you to find gaps in Ricard's schedule so I can get up to speed on everything he's handling."

"Of course, absolutely. Does he know yet?"

"Honestly, I have no idea—I'll stop by and tell him later. But that's not why I wanted to talk to you."

"It's not?" Olga furrows her brows.

"With his retirement, you've entered the reassignment pool, and I need to choose an assistant."

"Right, that's true," Olga says, taking another sip while keeping her eyes fixed on the woman with the impossibly long lashes.

"I'd like it to be you."

For a moment, Olga feels the room tilt on its axis. Her heart, already racing just from being near Marina, is now slamming against her ribs.

"But I wanted to check with you before making any decisions," Marina continues, unaware of what her words have set off inside Olga. "Maybe you already have other plans, and if that's the case, I completely understand—but I've been watching you work for a while now, and that's all I need to know I want you to stay in the executive wing. With me."

With me.

The words repeat in Olga's mind like a soft whisper that warms her entire body and knocks the air from her lungs as if she'd taken a punch to the chest. She should say no. She has to tell Marina about the email she drafted last night, the one she still hasn't sent to HR but plans to as soon as she gets a free moment—because if running into Marina in the hallway was enough to scramble her thoughts, what's going to happen when she becomes her direct executive assistant?

"If you're not burned out on the role yet, I'd really love to have you there, as my right hand," Marina adds.

"Okay," Olga's tongue completely ignores her better judgment and goes with her gut.

"Yes?" Marina's lips curve into a grin, and when they tilt more on one side than the other, Olga's knees press together.

"Yes. I'd love to be your assistant."

Olga can't believe herself. She's sitting there, fully aware of what she just said, furious at herself for being too much of a coward to do even this right. She had a clean way out, and instead she walked straight into the lion's den.

"Wonderful. I'm really glad you said yes, Olga—I think we're going to make a great team."

If Olga's decision-making is already shaky under normal circumstances, the moment Marina stands and extends her hand to seal what amounts to a pact between them, her brain goes completely offline and she runs on pure instinct. She gets up carefully, because her whole body is trembling at the thought of touching her again. Twice in one day, she thinks to herself, flustered and thrilled at the same time.

When she feels Marina's fingers slide across her hand and close around it, she nearly swallows a gasp. Her skin is soft, and the contact is even better than anything she'd let herself imagine. Marina's hand is warm—not clammy, not too hot, just right. The kind of hand made for running over someone's body. And if that body is hers, even better.

"I know we will," she says, giving Marina's hand a firm shake before letting go. "Well—if you don't need anything else, I should get back before Ricard notices I'm gone. I'll email you his open slots this week so you can pick whichever ones work with your schedule."

"Thank you, Olga. I'll talk to Núria in HR to make it official—she'll probably reach out to you sometime next week."