Daniel followed Gretta to room three of the five meeting rooms the newspaper had at its disposal and sat down in the sterile room. Gretta went to find Olivia.
“You're an asshole,” Olivia said as soon as she entered the room. “A misogynist. I believe they would have called you a cad years ago.”
Daniel looked at her and noticed the rage in her eyes. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. “The world is indeed a small place. How are you?”
“Don't give me that shit. You don't care how I am. All you care about is getting inside as many panties as possible without a single thought for the consequences.”
“Olivia, I don't know what has made you so pissed at me, but......”
“Don't you?” she said. “Well perhaps it'll do you good to have to think about it.” Daniel sat open mouthed after she stormed out of the room.
Olivia went back to her desk and did some breathing exercises to calm down. She pulled out How to Make a Man Love You from her handbag and looked at the stains it had collected during its short time in the trashcan. She turned to page eighteen and read it for the umpteenth time. Page eighteen told readers that a risky but effective strategy for making someone fall for you was to enter their lives, make an impression, and suddenly pull away, leaving them time to think about you. She wasn't sure her efforts to pursue that tactic had gone terribly well over the last few minutes. She seemed to have insulted him, not pulled away from him. What the hell, she thought. She was angry at him and he deserved it.
After a week Olivia had begun to regret how she'd spoken to Daniel. It hadn't had any effect; his silence was as loud as before. She continued to write articles that received rave reviews and drove sales through the roof. Her controversial style and her ability to capture the interest of the readers had earned her the respect of her colleagues and Gretta in a short.
When Gretta offered her a huge pay increase to prevent her from being poached by other publications, Olivia took out a mortgage on a luxury apartment in Long Island City. On Sunday mornings, she went to a local cafe to drink coffee, read the newspaper, and talk to the locals.
“They told me I'd find you here,” a man said.
Olivia looked up from the newspaper she was reading. “What do you want? I told you how I feel about you,” she said, continuing the tactic Ralph Penworthy had taught her. She reminded herself that she had no idea what qualified Ralph Penworthy to give such advice, but at least it had brought Daniel to her, and he was carrying a bunch of flowers.
“I'm sorry for doing whatever has upset you. I still don't know what it was. But I've been thinking about you recently.”
“Sit down and stop making a fool of yourself with that enormous bunch of roses,” she said.
Daniel wasn't used to being told what to do, and neither was he used to women scolding him. As far as he was concerned, he was the boss and what he said happened. But somewhere on his journey home between New York and Boston after their last encounter, he'd begun to think about her in a way he'd never thought about a woman before. Her talent and her courage in sticking up for herself had awakened his interest to such a degree that he'd bought flowers for the first time in his life.
“You hurt me, really hurt me,” she said over the roses that were lying between them on the table.
“How? I didn't mean to.”
“You callously screwed me and never bothered to contact me again. Didn't you think that it may have meant something to me?”
“Er...”
“See. You didn't, did you? That's what I mean; you don't care.”
“Olivia, I'm sorry, but I do care about you. It was never my intention to hurt you. I just thought—”
“You'd fuck me and throw me on the scrap heap next to all the other women you've used,” she said.
“Right, I've had enough of this,” he said as he slammed his fist on the table, making everyone look at them. “I've said I'm sorry. I've traveled here specially to see you. I even bought you flowers. I want to say I do care. I didn't, but I do now. Very much.”
“Why now?”
“Because you've made me see how special you are. I'm here because you are talented, and you stand up to me. I need that. And you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.”
“So what do you want?”
“You.”
“Do you think it's as easy as that? Do you think I will forgive you for all the weeks I've suffered?”
“Well, I'm here, am I not? Either you forgive me and give us a chance or you tell me to go.”
Had she heard him correctly? He had said, “Give us a chance”? She felt like a huge weight had lifted from her shoulders. The agony of being spurned by someone she loved was evaporating and being replaced by optimism and hope.