Chapter ten

                                    

                                          
Kamala woke the next morning, feeling as if the night prior had been a fever dream. She could still feel the ghost of Olivia's finger against her cheek, igniting feelings deep in her belly she had tried in vain to ignore. 
This was getting out of hand, and it had to stop. She was her secret service agent for god's sake. They were best friends. Olivia wasn't interested in anything beyond that. And even if she was— 
No. She couldn't think like that.
Kamala could feel the headache coming on, but it wasn't the alcohol's doing. With a frustrated groan, she pulled herself out of bed, hoping some food would calm the rolling waves of anxiety in her stomach. 
*** 
On the other side of town, Olivia rolled over in bed with a groan, still feeling exhausted from a restless slumber. 
Had that really happened? I was in her bedroom, unzipping her dress, running my finger down her face. 
A feeling of dread rolled through the agent. 
The last thing I want in this world is to ruin our friendship. I know it's not...conventional, but I'll take whatever I can get. 
Her fingers itched as she eyed her phone, wanting desperately to know Kamala's thoughts on what transpired, but too afraid to actually ask. Instead, she pulled herself out of bed, throwing on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, planning to work out her frustrations at the gym. A little sweat would take her mind of things...right? 
***
Monday morning arrived, Kamala stepping out of her house to be greeted with the nervous smile of her agent. Something twisted in her stomach at the look on Olivia's face. She hated knowing she was the cause of it. 
They rode in silence for the first time in their dozens of car rides together, the only noise being the busy city around them. Neither knew what to say to break the quiet, as if neither wanted to acknowledge the shift that occurred between them. 
Before either had the courage to speak up, they'd arrived, and Kamala was quickly whisked off to a morning meeting. Their eyes had briefly connected before they parted, something unknown and hesitant swirling between the pair. 
As morning became afternoon, Kamala was kept busy with back to back briefings, not having a chance to see much of the agent, let alone a chance for any privacy with her. 
When the last briefing wrapped up shortly before 3 p.m., Kamala had asked her assistant to order a late lunch, for two. 
Agent Riley finished a brief of her own, checking her phone to find an unexpected text. 
Meet me in my office at 3:30?
The sudden wave of unease slammed into her chest so hard she struggled to take a breath. The text was so vague, but her mind construed a hundred possibilities of what Kamala might want, none of them pleasant. 
With nervous steps, she shakily replied, be there soon, before heading towards the VP's office. 
***
Kamala's assistant waved her through with a smile the agent attempted to return, though it came out as more of a cringe. 
She knocked hesitantly on the office door, waiting to enter until she heard the familiar, come in, from the voice inside. 
With uncertain steps, Olivia entered through the door, finding Kamala already seated on the office couch. 
Though at first glance Kamala looked the picture of professional, with her perfectly placed hair and pressed light blue pantsuit, Olivia could see the nerves that washed over the VP's face. 
On one hand, it was somewhat comforting to know she wasn't the only one feeling inner turmoil, but alternatively, it sent a fresh wave of nausea through the agent that Kamala was nervous. 
Making her way over to the Vice President, she sat on the opposite side of the small couch, a respectful distance separating the two. 
Uncomfortable silence stretched through the office, neither of the women knowing what to say. 
Olivia finally opened her mouth, the quiet of the room and unknown nature of this meeting becoming painful. 
"Am I getting fired?" The agent finally blurted out. 
Kamala's eyes connected with hers, startled at the sudden outburst of words from Olivia's mouth. 
"Fired?" She questioned, clearly taken aback. "Olivia—"
Kamala closed the distance between them, hand reaching out to the agents, fingers firmly grasping. "Olivia—no—absolutely NOT." She continued, shaking her head resolutely, her stare ablaze. "Why would you think that?"
"I—" The thought died in the back of her throat as she struggled to get out the rest of her sentence. Had she spent the whole weekend overthinking the situation? Kamala was drunk, did she even remember what happened? Maybe she did, but what if it hadn't meant anything? 
The agent was pulled from her thoughts by the soft touch of Kamala's hand on her thigh, pulling her gaze back to brown eyes staring back at her in concern. 
"Olivia—" Kamala began, hesitance clear in her tone. "I-I'm sorry about what happened Friday night. I shouldn't have asked you to—" She stopped, shaking her head, as if her thoughts conflicted. "If I made you uncomfortable, I'm sorry. Trust me when I say there is no world in which I'd fire you. Ever. But I do understand if you're uncomfortable and no longer want to be a part of my team—"
"Stop." Olivia interrupted, fingers going to cover the VP's hand still resting on her thigh. "There's no world in which I'd quit. Ever. I wasn't—You didn't make me uncomfortable," the agent said softly. "I think maybe...maybe we both over analyzed things," Olivia said carefully. "You're my best friend. But you're also my boss. And I think sometimes...sometimes it's hard to skirt the line between the two."
Kamala released the breath she'd been holding, tightening her grip involuntarily on Olivia's thigh. 
"You're my best friend too," she murmured with a tender look. "Can we just...start the day over? Put Friday past us?" 
Olivia's face softened, feelings of affection bubbling up her chest. 
"I'd like that. But I do have one very important question first." Olivia said, face turning serious. 
Kamala's heart stuttered at the sudden change, and she swallowed with a nod for the agent to continue. 
"Is that food from Maketto?" The agent asked, pointing to the large paper bag sitting on the VP's desk. 
Kamala stuttered out a surprised laugh, body leaning into the agents. Olivia's heart fluttered at the closeness, body instinctively inclining towards the VP. 
"Yes," Kamala replied with a cheeky smile. "A late lunch for two, if you're up for it? I got your favorite." 
"If I ever say no to that, you can use my gun against me," Olivia replied resolutely. 
Kamala's giggles echoed through the office. 
"Trust me, I know the way to your heart by now," the VP said affectionately. 
Olivia hummed tenderly, eyes locked on the woman before her. 
"You certainly do."