Olivia - The angel that became the devil

Olivia - The angel that became the devil
(A few weeks ago)

"Is Olivia with you?" Macy's voice boomed over the phone.

No hello. No small talk. No he was a dick for forgetting about their one year anniversary. Just one simple question.

I came up to Harmon, who was seated by the restaurant's bar, to let him know our clients made an abrupt exit. Instead I found myself frozen in place right behind him, eavesdropping on their phone call. They only ever argued about one thing: me.
"Shit. Our date. Mace, this Japanese client—" Harmon tried to explain, but Macy cut him off, her voice still so loud I heard every word.

"Is Olivia with you? Yes or no Harmon," Macy persisted.

Disoriented from a night of heavy drinking and trying to get closer to listen in, I stumbled and tripped over my own two feet. My body fell against his back and I inhaled sharply, the scent of him and the warmth of his brawny body invading my senses.

"I'm soooo drunk right now. Why didn't you stop me?" I said, pointing an accusatory finger at him when he turned around and beamed at me.

Oh that heart stopping smile. Disappointment filled me up when he smoothly put distance between us. The warmth of his body was a distant memory as he steadied me with both hands while still clutching his phone.

"I fucking tried. Same shit every time Yamazaki comes into town, Olive. I blame us getting sloshed on you," he said with amusement in his voice and mirth in his eyes, not sounding the least bit drunk despite his claims.

See that right there was the problem. His girlfriend was pissed at him because he was with me and he was still messing around. Still acting like I was the only woman in the room despite being on the phone with her.

Mr. Inconsequential, is it any wonder I've been crushing on you for all these years?

"That's because they can't get enough of me. Only I can close the deal. Who can blame them? I'm awesome. You're the only one who says no to me," I slurred, slyly closing the gap between us again and laying my head down on his shoulder.

I said that, knowing full well the charms Harmon possessed. I was just an intern, fresh out of business school. He didn't need me to close this deal and yet here I was. Not the team he had working for the client, but me.

Fucking explain that, Mr. Inconsequential.

His phone call all but forgotten, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and looked down at me. A warmth spread throughout my chest as he watched me with doting eyes.

So trusting of his 'sister'. If he only knew the things I wanted him to do to me. He was in a serious relationship. Mr. Inconsequential was in love. For the first time ever. When would I let go of my school girl crush on him?

"You're fucking joking, right? Did you tell her to say that?" Macy's voice came through the phone, recapturing Harmon's attention.

"Come on Mace. It's a last minute business meeting. It's work. She's practically my sister," he said for the umpteenth time.

Macy couldn't stand me constantly being around Harmon. What she didn't understand was we had known each other since I was twelve. There was an eight year age gap between us. To him, I would always be a child. He only had eyes for her.

"A 'sister' he would totally bang if it weren't for you and my last name," I mumbled spitefully, drunk off my ass and half asleep against his shoulder.

"I'm done. I can't take this shit anymore. We're over," said Macy.

"Mace? Shit. She hung up. Here we go again. See what you did, my little troublemaker?" Harmon said with a sigh, giving my shoulders a squeeze before kissing my temple.

My eyes fluttered open. I looked up at him with apologetic eyes and pouty lips and said, "Sorry Harmon."

As much as it gave me joy to watch them fight, I hated upsetting him. I was doing my level best to accept them, but damn it I couldn't stop flirting. The worst part was he never shut me down. He flirted back.

"We were due for our bi-monthly break up anyway. Just once I'd appreciate it if you weren't involved though, Miss Hunter," he said, cupping my cheek affectionately.

"Want to get even more wasted? Yamazaki and his people went for round two. We're invited," I managed to slur.

"I don't feel like sharing you right now," he said, sending my heart racing as he steered me back towards our table, his arm still draped around my shoulders. "Watch me drown my sorrows about being dumped while you sober up."

The many break ups between them screwed with his head. Every single time. I knew because I was there for them all.

"She has no reason to be jealous. You're Will's kid sister. I obviously don't see you that way. Fucking women," he complained, two glasses of Bourbon in, just like he always did.

Hearing the words made me feel like I was being dumped too, but I stayed anyway. Decade long crush or not, that was what you did for family. What we did for each other. We showed up.

"Obviously. She'll get over it. She always does," I said, picking up the bottle of Bourbon against my better judgement and taking a swig.

Fuck becoming sober. I needed to be more drunk for this shit, not less.

One too many double Bourbons later, I lost time. What we said or did before we went home, how I got home, I didn't remember any of it when I woke up the next morning.

Harmon must have been a great wingman though, because memories of last night's sexathon lingered in my brain. My body ached sweetly from being thoroughly fucked as I woke up slowly. My great sex bliss was almost enough to ignore the pounding in my head brought on by the hangover.

"Good morning baby," said a throaty male voice, before its owner started nuzzling my neck.

"A little soon for baby, isn't it sugar?" I said back to him, my hand gliding up the back of his neck and onto his head, fingers slipping through his soft hair.

How many times had I been here before? Let's hope whoever I fucked last night was not a clinger or, heaven forbid, wanted to stay for breakfast. On second thought, round (insert number here) might not be the worst idea. The man knew how to fuck a woman right.

The scent of my Jasmine scented perfume mingling with his aftershave smelled so fucking good. So familiar. Was I still wasted or just drunk on him?

"You didn't think so last night when I was fucking you. 'Good God, yes. You must be the angel that became the devil because you take me to heaven and then to hell. Fuck me again, baby.' I believe those were your exact words after round two, Mace. Glad you came home, baby," said a familiar, deep, raspy voice.

My blood ran cold. I froze, not daring to breathe. What the actual fuck? The man in my bed this morning couldn't be Harmon Chancellor.