Chapter 58

“Why did you leave?” Raemon demanded of Octavia the minute she walked into his office.

“Hello to you too,” Octavia said.

Raemon stood in front of his desk and eyed Octavia as she approached him.

“I expected you to be there when I woke up,” Raemon said.

“Did you?” Octavia said. “Funny. I expected that we’d have flying cars by now. Or flying bicycles at least. That’s the thing about life”—she shook her head in dismay—“expectations are rarely met.”

Raemon’s brows furrowed as he clenched his jaw. He stepped toward her and pulled her into his arms. Octavia did not resist.

“Octavia, I’m serious,” he said. “I want to wake up to you beside me.”

“No, you don’t,” Octavia said gravely. “I look like hell in the morning. And I am not a morning person. I feel like hell too. Not to mention the morning breath—”

“That wouldn’t have mattered,” Raemon said.

Octavia smirked. “Oh yes, it would. Anyway, you slept for, like, forever.”

“I know. It’s been a while since I’ve slept that long. Or deeply.”

“Oh, yeah—your insomnia. So how long has it been?”

“A few years.”

“Like two…or three?”

“At least eight.”

Octavia’s eyes widened. “Jesus. No wonder you were sleeping like a rock.”

“Yes,” Raemon said. “It was a relief, I suppose. I’d almost forgotten what it was like to just…rest.”

“To think all you had to do was get laid,” Octavia said cheerily.

“It wasn’t just that,” Raemon said, pressing his forehead to hers. “Even if I have you to thank for that, it would have been more satisfying if I’d woken up to your face.”

Octavia patted him on the arm. “Trust me, it wouldn’t have.”

“Agree to disagree.”

“Whatever. Anyway… I had to leave at some point,” Octavia said. “Also, someone may have called you that morning… and I may have told them something about candlesticks… but I’m not sure.”

It didn’t matter that this sentence didn’t make sense, Raemon was gazing down at her with a distinct look in his eyes, unconcerned with the meaning of her words.

“No matter,” Raemon said, “next time I’ll make sure you stay.”

“How? By chaining me to your bed?”

“If you want me to.”

Octavia smiled. “You’re already at the number one spot. No need to put in more work.”

“I don’t consider it as work,” Raemon said, lowering his head to kiss her.

They were at it for a few minutes when Raemon’s phone rang.

He seemed reluctant to pull himself from Octavia and head back around his desk to take the call. It was a short one, and Octavia plopped down into one of the chairs while he talked.

“Your prototypes will arrive by the end of the day,” Raemon said when he got off the phone.

Octavia beamed. “Yes! Can’t wait to see them.”

“We’ll go to dinner to celebrate,” Raemon said. “And then you can come back to my place.”

“Can we go somewhere normal?” Octavia said.

“We’re not going to a grease shack.”

“Isn’t it the lady who gets to decide?”

“Not when greasy food is an option,” Raemon said. “Just be ready to leave at seven. I’ll send a car for you.”

“No need,” Octavia said, “I’ll probably be working late. I can just leave from here.”

“You’ll want to change.”

Octavia eyed Raemon suspiciously. “If I have to change, you’re going to take me to some ridiculously fancy place, aren’t you?” She scowled. “I should probably eat before I go too.”

“No. All you need to do is change,” Raemon insisted. “Besides, I would like to see you with the present I got you.”

Octavia was silent.

“You did receive it, didn’t you?”

“Um… yes.”

“Why are you making that face?”

“What face?”

“That face.”

“I’m not making any face.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Nope. Not me. I’m faceless.”

“Octavia,” Raemon locked eyes with hers. “What did you do with it?”

“Nothing!” Octavia said. “I just…you know…don’t want to carry it around or anything. It’s in my closet. For safekeeping.”

“How thoughtful of you. Nevertheless, you should have it when you come to dinner tonight. Don’t worry, it will be safe.”

Octavia hesitated before speaking. “Um…yeah…that might be a problem.”

“Why is that?”

“I don’t exactly…have it anymore.”

“Why is that?”

“I may have…kinda…sort of…given it to someone else.”

“You did what?”

“I gave it to someone. To my stylist, in fact.”

Raemon sighed. “Why? Was it the color? Which color do you want?”

“No, it’s not that,” Octavia said. “I don’t want another color. I just don’t want it—period.”

“What do you mean, ‘you don’t want it’?” Raemon said, his brow furrowed. “Octavia, that was a rare, expensive, luxury item.”

“It’s getting all the praise and attention it deserves, believe me,” Octavia said, “just not from me. Look, you don’t have to give me anything for fucking you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean…we’re not in any kind of relationship or something,” Octavia said. “I don’t know how you’ve done it in the past, but I don’t expect anything from you after sex.”

“It’s not about sex. I want to give you things, Octavia.”

Octavia protested, “But I don’t want those things. What the hell would I do with a bag like that anyway? Half the time I’d be freaked out about losing or damaging it.

“And anyway, it’s not even like I could fit a laptop in there or something. It wouldn’t be much use to me.”

“Then what do you want?” Raemon asked.

Octavia paused in thought. “Right now? A greasy burger, actually.”

Raemon sighed. “I don’t understand you Octavia.”

“Few people do,” Octavia replied knowingly.