Page 22 of The Law of Attraction
Adam, on the other hand, actually seemed to be enjoying himself. His eyes were bright and he had a self-satisfied look that made Olivia’s molars grind together. “I’m just saying nothing will ever change if you don’t stand up for yourself. You need to be more assertive, not less.”
“Don’t feed me that Lean In bullshit,” she spat. “It’s not that simple to be more assertive when you’re a woman. Maybe you can get away with acting like a jerk, but if I tried that crap I’d be labeled a ‘problem’ and suffer repercussions.”
“I didn’t say it was simple, just that it was something you need to do. You can’t just give up and go along to get along.”
“Why not? Why can’t I do that?” Her stupid window seat was making her feel trapped. Her only means of escape from this conversation was to climb over Adam’s and a complete stranger’s legs.
“Because it’s wrong. It perpetuates a broken system and allows incompetence to rise to the top.”
“I didn’t break the system,” she said through clenched teeth. “Why should I have to take all the risks to fix it?” Her jaw was aching from all the clenching.
“Because you actually care about doing a good job.”
“Stop acting like you know me. You don’t know anything about me or what I care about.” She unsnapped her seat belt and stood, setting her knitting on her seat. “I need to use the bathroom. Get up.”
Adam and his neighbor stepped out into the aisle, and Olivia made her way to the bathroom at the back of the plane. She really did hate airplane bathrooms, but she needed some space and some quiet. Just for a minute. She needed to breathe in an Adam-free zone—even if it was gross toilet air.
She glared at her bright pink cheeks in the water-spotted bathroom mirror. It was the curse of her complexion. Even the slightest rush of blood to her face announced itself like a flashing neon sign. No wonder Adam thought she was an open book.
Her cheeks went even redder at the thought of Adam reading her so easily. Or was it the mere thought of Adam that made her face hot? Of Adam looking at her and really seeing her—which was what she’d wanted for so long.
But no more. She didn’t want Adam’s attention.
Did she?
Ugh. How could she be simultaneously so attracted to and so infuriated by someone? It boggled reason.
Her only hope of getting through this week with any sort of dignity whatsoever was to convince him all her red-faced blushing was anger rather than…all the other things he made her feel. Unwelcome, inappropriate things. Things she absolutely did not want to be feeling about Adam Cortinas.
She could do this. She had excellent social skills. She was a calm, collected person, capable of having benign conversations with a coworker. He didn’t need to know there was anything extraordinary about their interactions—or her reactions to them. She could pretend to be cool and normal.
She’d have to, if she was going to survive the next five days.
When Olivia finally went back to her seat, she found Adam examining her knitting. “Don’t touch that!” she exclaimed in alarm.
He withdrew the hand that was caressing a corner of Penny’s shawl and moved so Olivia could get back to her seat. “I was just looking.”
She directed an apologetic look at the gentleman in the aisle seat as she stepped past him. “You were touching,” she said to Adam. “If you hold it wrong, the stitches will drop off the needles.”
“I wasn’t holding it. I was just poking it.”
“Don’t do that either.” She cradled the half-knit shawl like a newborn baby and sat back down in her seat.
“See how good you are at being assertive?” Adam said.
She hated herself for the involuntary thrill she felt at his approval, even though she knew he was mocking her. “I’m not talking about this with you anymore.”
“What are you so afraid of?”
That you’ll guess why the blood keeps rushing to my face. That I’ll lose control and punch you in your smug, handsome face. That you can see all the flaws I try so hard to hide.
There were so many things she could say, but she didn’t say any of them, because that would be handing the nuclear codes to an enemy agent. Self-assured destruction.
“I’m not afraid of anything,” was what she said. “I’m just tired of this conversation. Why don’t we talk about your failings instead?”
Adam’s gaze was sharp and penetrating. “When people don’t want to talk about something, it usually means they’re afraid of revealing some truth about themselves they’d prefer stayed hidden.”
How did he keep doing that? Was he telepathic?
