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But still, Eli was so hateful toward me, and I had thought that I was doing a great thing by connecting with Harlee. The tension in the room had been palpable—and not in a good way. It was clear that Harlee was more relaxed with a woman.
A woman like me.
“Do you mind if I play the song?” I asked quietly, glancing over to Eli, who was texting furiously on his phone. The glow of the screen cast a light on his face, and I hated how handsome he looked, his straight nose just big enough to accentuate his square jaw and his thick eyebrows creating an asymmetrical appearance. He was the epitome of what people looked for in models.
And I was not.
“Go ahead, no one can hear us in here right now. The camera doesn’t work if the lights aren’t working.” His voice was flat, and he didn’t look up from the screen. “I’m working on getting someone to fix it.”
“Right, thanks,” I muttered before pulling my laptop out and hitting the power button. I clicked on the MP4 file that Chris had provided to us, and the bittersweet pop ballad filled the small room. “It’s so romantic,” I commented to myself as Harlee’s raspy alto voice sang out hauntingly.
“If that’s what you think,” Eli chuckled. “It just sounds like the same old cliché love shit.”
“What?” I raised my eyebrows at him. “Really? I think she stands out with her ability to reach in deep when it comes to her emotions.”
“Wow, you mean like rewording every other ‘wrong timing’ song that exists and putting it into a new poppy beat?”
“You really don’t like it?” I didn’t know why that was surprising to me. I mean, I couldn’t exactly pinpoint what I thought Eli listened to, but it didn’t seem like he would hate the song...
But then again, he hated me—and I loved the song.
“I don’t care for it, no.” His eyes were still on his screen as I sat there, leaning my head back against the wall. I tried to imagine what I thought should happen in the music video, picturing the song in a representation of a story.
“I think it should be played out like a movie,” I said, looking up at Eli.
“Yeah, I heard you mention cinematic.”
I nodded—not that he was paying any attention. “Okay, well, what do you think?”
“I think we’re going to do whatever Harlee wants to. I’ll bring in experts to look at the marketability, though. I always do that. I don’t want the video to flop. Something can be a creative masterpiece, but not to the rest of the world. That’s the problem with giving you creative people free rein when it comes to projects.”
“Why did you start a creative media business if you don’t even like it?” I shut my laptop, and the song stopped suddenly. “It seems like a burden to be involved in something that you don’t even respect.”
“I never once said that I didn’t respect the creative aspect of it.”
“But you just admitted that it’s a problem to give creative freedom to the artists you work for.”
“It’s not about the artists.”
“So then is this another jab at me?” I asked, exasperated, feeling even worse about myself in the moment. “Again, I really do not understand why you hate me so much, Eli. I do everything you ask me to, and you’re pissed that I, what? Connected with Harlee? You weren’t exactly killing it in there.”
He dropped his phone from his face, hiding what I could only imagine was an pissed-off, stone-cold expression. “First of all, let’s get something straight: I do not hate you, Olivia. I don’t hate anyone. You just overstep your boundaries all the time. It drives me insane.”
“What do you even mean? What boundaries do I overstep?” I demanded, setting my things down and standing to my feet. “Because the last I checked, you were the one who came on to me and broke all your office policy rules.”
He was silent, and I had no idea what his actual reaction was to what I was saying, considering it was pitch-black. I waited for a few moments, giving him a chance to think about it...
But if he had something to say, he left it unsaid.
Ugh.
I rolled my eyes dramatically and turned my back to him—as if he could see it. Honestly, it was probably a good thing though. It’d just give him some other reason to berate me and my character.
This is why I don’t date anymore.
The thought made my heart squeeze with sadness. No one had ever appreciated my dorkiness, and even if they had, they were never reliable. No man had ever really been there for me when I needed it most. They always copped out when things got hard. So even if Eli wanted something with me—which I didn’t know why I’d ever think he would, I’d probably screw it all up with my reservations.
Just like always.
