Everybody Loves Me 1/4
banner by: geek_or_unique
Title: Everybody Loves Me
Chapter: 1/4
Fandom: Smallville
Pairing: Chloe Sullivan and Oliver Queen
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 5,355
Prompt: This is for my music soulmate geek_or_unique who wanted to see a Chlollie twist on the Luthor episode where Oliver ended up in another world where he's not with Chloe and she hates him.
Warning: No real spoilers. This takes place in season 10. I'd say Canon through Chloe coming back, but I started writing this before Fortune, so that particular awesomeness is not included.
banner by: alxnhnt22
Chapter One: Flashes in my face
Oliver stood on the roof of one of the tallest buildings in Metropolis surveying the city below him. The night was quieter than most, the slight chill in the air and threat of rain seemed to be enough to keep the bad guys at bay. Or maybe the weather was keeping the good people of Metropolis inside their homes and the villains were left without anyone to torment. Either way, the team had been efficiently completing their main mission for the evening without getting sidetracked with the exception of a few muggings and carjackings here and there. They had one more location to hit and then everyone could go their separate ways until next time.
He was starting to think that moment could not come soon enough.
“I’m telling you it was the Barbados mission,” AC insisted. His normally laidback tone was gone, his voice shrill as his face reddened with frustration.
“No!” Victor replied loudly. “It was Jamaica. I know all water looks the same to you fish boy, but you’re wrong about this.” His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, his eyes narrowed as he stared down AC.
“You’re the one who’s wrong, Microchip.” AC took a step closer to Victor, smirking down from his height advantage. “Maybe we should place a little wager on it,” he said.
Victor rolled his eyes, not the slightest bit intimidated. AC was taller, but he was a hell of a lot stronger. “All right, Nemo. When I’m proven right, which we all know I will be, no American Idol videogames for a month.”
AC’s jaw dropped. “What do you have against Idol?” he demanded.
“Aside from having to listen to you sing off key all day long? Nothing,” Victor replied, smirking.
“Fine,” AC snapped. A slow smile spread across his face. “When it turns out that I’m right, you have to stop doing all the crossword puzzles for a month.”
Victor’s eyebrows shut up. “What? How does it affect your life because I want to keep my brain sharp?” he asked.
AC shrugged. “It doesn’t, but you if you want to take away my fun, I’m going to take away yours.” He held out his hand. “Deal?” he asked.
“Deal,” Victor agreed. The two men shook hands, each one trying to crush the other. “Ollie, tell AC that I’m right,” he said.
“Ollie, tell Victor that I’m right,” AC countered.
“Really?” Oliver asked. He turned away from the city to face his friends. Despite his best efforts to drown them out, their incessant arguing had been driving him insane. Pulling off his glasses so they could see the irritation in his eyes, he scowled at them. “You’ve been fighting about this for almost three hours and now you want me to jump in? You’re both wrong. It was Saint Tropez.”
“Oh,” AC said slowly, realization dawning. “That’s right because that was the hotel where Bart got kicked out for hitting on the maid.”
Victor laughed. “Right and Ollie made him sleep on the beach. Good times,” he recalled fondly.
“We need another tropical island mission,” AC commented. He grinned at Oliver. “Do you think you can arrange that?” he asked hopefully.
“You’ve got it,” Oliver replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m sure there are plenty of criminals sunning themselves on a beach just waiting for us to catch them. Can we focus on what we’re here to do?” he asked.
AC raised an eyebrow at Victor before turning back to Ollie. “Dude, relax. We’re just trying to keep things loose,” he said.
“Sushi is right, Ollie,” Victor agreed. “We’re almost done and everything has gone smoothly. Do you remember that time in Bali? That was a disaster,” he pointed out.
“Bali was awesome,” AC corrected. “You’re thinking of Borneo, Hard Drive.”
Victor scowled. “I know the difference and before Ollie settles this one, care to make our wager more interesting?” he asked.
“I’m listening,” AC replied.
Turning away, Oliver rolled his eyes and went back to tuning them out. He knew Clark was going to be there any minute and then they could head inside and finish the mission. He tried to focus on that and ignore the fact that his friends’ voices were getting loud again. A sudden rush of wind blew past him.
“I want a burrito,” Bart announced. He shifted from one foot to the other impatiently as he looked up at Oliver. “Do you mind if I run to Mexico really quick, Bossman?”
“Yes, I mind,” Oliver snapped. “We’re in the middle of a mission,” he reminded him. “You can go to Mexico when we’re done.”
Bart made a face. “I could have been back already in the time it took you to say that,” he pointed out.
Oliver glared at him. “Stay here,” he repeated.
As AC and Victor’s argument grew even louder and Bart crossed his arms over his chest and pouted like a child, Oliver walked to the other end of the rooftop, silently counting to ten in his head. He had a knot the size of Texas between his shoulders and he was pretty sure his eye was actually twitching.
“You all right, Arrow?”
The familiar voice in his ear instantly brought a smile to his face. “Are you watching me, Sidekick?” he asked.
“I do believe it’s a big part of my job description,” Chloe teased. “Boy Scout is almost done with the bank robbery,” she added.
“Good,” Oliver replied. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Bart was now standing between AC and Victor. But judging from the mischievous look in his eye, Oliver doubted he was trying to play peacemaker. “Do you think he’d get here in time to catch these guys if they happen to fall off the roof?” he asked nonchalantly.
“Oliver,” Chloe chastised. She tried and failed to keep the laughter out of her voice. “Do you really think that’s a good idea? You need them to help you go through Lionel’s things,” she pointed out.
“I could probably do it faster on my own,” Oliver grumbled. Ever since Clark had successfully managed to send Lionel packing to another dimension, the team had been scouring all the places Lionel had set up shop in while he’d been waiting to reveal himself. They wanted to make sure all traces of him were gone as well as undo any potential disasters he might have caused.
“There’s a reason we wanted everyone at this location,” Chloe said. The penthouse apartment where Lionel had been living after the mansion burned down was the place he’d spent most of his time and it had been the hardest location to uncover. “This one might take the rest of the night even with two super speeders on site.”
“I know,” Oliver pouted. He rolled his eyes when he heard Bart’s voice joining in on the shouting. The topic of the argument had switched from past missions to food and there didn’t appear to be an end in sight. “What if I leave these guys to finish on their own and you can meet me at the clock tower?” he suggested. They’d been so busy lately that they’d hardly had any alone time and that was a big part of his aggravation.
“Tempting,” Chloe replied wistfully. “But they obviously need you to keep them in line and I’m still sorting through the latest round of Luthor Corp. files that Tess sent over. She’s meeting with some of your Asian investors and I get the feeling she’s not happy with you.”
“What else is new?” Oliver replied. Lionel had managed to do a lot of damage to Luthor Corp. in the few weeks he’d been in charge and Tess had been forced to handle most of the business problems so Oliver could concentrate on working with the team. “She’s convinced I took the easy part. But a boardroom filled with angry investors sounds pretty good right about now.”
“I’m going to remind you of this conversation next time you send me one of your 911 texts looking for an excuse to get out of a meeting,” Chloe teased.
Oliver grinned. “Maybe I’m really just looking for excuses to see you,” he replied smoothly.
Chloe laughed. “Dial back the charm, Queen,” she said. “It’s not going to get you out of finishing the mission.”
Sighing loudly, his smile faded. “I’m hurt, Sidekick. Here I am pouring my heart out to you and you’re trivializing my feelings. Is it so wrong that I want to spend some alone time with my adorable girlfriend instead of playing referee to the three stooges?”
“Pouting isn’t going to work either,” Chloe replied. She lowered her voice. “But maybe tomorrow we can both call in sick.”
He raised his eyebrows at that, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I like the sound of this idea.” Oliver lowered his voice as well. “We’ll just have to stay in bed until we’re feeling better, sans clothing, of course.”
“Of course,” Chloe agreed with a chuckle.
“Hey Casanova, you want to rein it in so we could do this thing sometime this century?” Bart called.
Oliver glanced over his shoulder. Clark had arrived and all four men were staring at him like he was keeping them from being somewhere important. His jaw twitched as the tension crept back into his shoulders. Fighting off the sarcastic reply on the tip of his tongue, he reminded himself that the sooner they got this over with, the sooner he would be alone with Chloe. “Watchtower, are we clear to move in?” he asked.
“Yes,” Chloe replied. She reactivated the group com link and turned her attention to the security feed. “I’ve disabled the alarms and put the video footage on a loop. You boys are good to go.”
“You heard the lady,” Oliver said. He made his way to the access door that led to the fire escape. It took him less than five seconds to pick the lock and he headed inside with the guys right behind him. Ten seconds later, he picked another lock and let them into Lionel’s penthouse, flipping on the light switch beside the door.
“What’s the status?” Chloe asked.
“So far it looks like your average apartment,” Oliver replied. There wasn’t a lot of furniture in the main room and he assumed Lionel had been too busy plotting his world domination to concern himself with decorating. “Impulse, can you do a quick sweep of the place?” he asked.
Bart disappeared and returned before any of them could blink. “Aside from the master bedroom and office, all the other rooms are empty,” he reported.
Oliver nodded. “Cyborg, you and Aquaman take the office while Impulse and I take the bedroom. Boy Scout, sweep this room and the others just to be sure,” he said.
Everyone headed off to their designated areas. Bart went through the closet while Oliver searched the drawers. Just as he was starting to think bringing the entire team had been a waste of resources, he heard Bart let out a yelp followed by a loud crash.
“What was that?” Chloe asked worriedly in his ear as Oliver rushed into the large closet.
His eyes widened when he saw the trap door in the floor. Dropping to his knees he peered down into the hole. He could see Bart lying on the floor at least two stories below him. “Impulse, are you okay?” he called as Clark appeared at his side in a rush of wind.
Bart groaned. “Yeah,” he muttered. Rising to his feet, he brushed off his clothes and looked around. “Uh, Bossman?” he said, looking up at Oliver. “You might want to come down here.”
Oliver exchanged a quick glance with Clark before jumping through the trap door. Landing easily, he straightened to his full height and surveyed the space. It wasn’t a large room, but nearly every inch of the floor was littered with what appeared to be antiques, artwork and other artifacts. “What the hell?”
“Arrow, what is going on?” Chloe asked again.
“It looks like Impulse stumbled into Lionel’s secret lair,” Oliver replied. He glanced up and motioned for Clark to join them.
Clark dropped down beside him, his eyes widening when he saw Lionel’s treasure room. “Do you think Lionel stole all this stuff?” he asked.
“Or purchased it on the black market,” Oliver said. He knelt down and picked up a bronze statue. “We’re going to have to go through all of this and catalog it so Chloe and Victor can trace the origins.” He knew it was going to take the rest of the night for them to sort everything out.
“I’ll get Victor and AC,” Clark offered. He jumped back into the penthouse.
Scowling at the mess around them, Oliver silently cursed Lionel Luthor. “Sidekick, I think we’re going to have to put our plans on hold. Again,” he added bitterly.
Chloe sighed. “I need everyone to send pictures directly to Watchtower’s server.” She pushed the button to block all the links except Oliver’s. “I’ll still be here when you’re done,” she promised.
Frustrated, Oliver reached for his cell phone and took a picture of the bronze statue before setting it down and picking up an ugly vase. “His taste is almost as bad as his personality,” he muttered as he snapped another picture.
Bart smirked and picked up a silver object. The reflective surface was covered with black markings that looked like they were supposed to connect. He turned it once, lining up the pattern as AC and Victor dropped into the room followed by Clark. “Hey Tin Man, I think you might like this thing,” he said, turning it again.
“NO!” Clark shouted. He sped toward Bart.
Startled, Bart’s tossed the silver box aside as Clark rushed him. It flew across the room and Oliver’s hand shot out on instinct and caught it. His brain kicked in a second later as the box began to glow. “What the…”
“OLIVER!”
***
Groaning, Oliver rubbed a hand over his eyes as he started to wake up. His neck felt stiff, his legs were cramped and when he tried to stretch them out, he realized he was in a tight space. Confused, he opened his eyes and found himself sitting behind the wheel of a car. Glancing down, he took in his dark suit, wrinkled shirt and loose tie and tried to remember how he had gotten there.
It wasn’t the first time he’d woken up in a strange place - or in a car for that matter - but it had been a long time since he’d had a blackout. He didn’t drink excessively anymore and he certainly didn’t do drugs. Oliver briefly wondered if he might have been kidnapped, but he rejected the idea quickly. Most kidnappers he’d come across tended to tie him to a chair or stick him in a tube, not leave him alone in his car.
At least, he was pretty sure it was one of his cars. Oliver leaned over and opened the glove compartment, pulling out the registration. Relaxing slightly when he saw his name, he started to put the paper away when the address caught his eye. It was his penthouse in Star City. Blackout or not, Oliver knew he hadn’t been back to Star City in months.
“This just keeps getting better and better,” Oliver muttered. He reached into his pocket for his cell phone. It wasn’t there. He checked his other pockets and aside from his wallet and a pair of sunglasses, they were empty too. He searched the glove compartment and the center consul and his phone was nowhere to be found.
Oliver got out of the car, taking a moment to stretch out his muscles. His whole body seemed to protest the simple movement. That probably wasn’t a good sign. What the hell had he been doing? The business suit ruled out patrolling, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d gotten into some sort of fight without his alter ego. He needed to find some answers.
Making his way out of the parking garage, Oliver was nearly blinded when he stepped into the bright sunlight. Fumbling in his pocket for his sunglasses, he fought off a wave of nausea that threatened while the back of his head suddenly felt like someone was stabbing him with a pointy object. He still couldn’t distinguish if he was suffering from the world’s worst hangover or he had taken a blow to the skull. He figured the latter was more likely because even when he was hung over he could usually retrace some of his steps.
He would certainly remember trading one state for another.
Once his head stopped throbbing, Oliver glanced around, taking in the familiar surroundings. He was in downtown Star City directly across the street from Queen Industries’ main headquarters. He racked his brain, trying to remember if there was a meeting he’d come to town for. Nothing sounded familiar. At least he knew there was a phone in his office he could use. Maybe Chloe could tell him how he’d ended up there.
Oliver straightened his tie and quickly crossed the street. He wanted to try and get to his office without too many people seeing him. He couldn’t exactly answer questions when he had a black hole where his memory of the past twenty-four hours was supposed to be. He was nearly at the front door when someone fell in step beside him.
“You seem to be in a hurry this morning, Mr. Queen.”
He stopped walking, his eyes widening behind his glasses as he turned to face Lois. She had a tape recorder in one hand and the look on her face wasn’t exactly friendly. “Lois, what are you doing here?” he asked.
Her eyes narrowed even more. “It’s Ms. Lane,” she reminded him coldly. “And I’m here doing my job which is more than I can say for you since you’re wearing yesterday’s suit again. Would like to tell me who you spent the night with this time, Mr. Queen?” she sneered.
“What?” Oliver cried. His jaw dropped and he pulled off his glasses, staring at Lois like she’d lost her mind, which she obviously had. “How can you ask me that?” he demanded.
“The public has a right to know,” Lois replied with a shrug. Smirking, she pressed the record button on her tape recorder and held it up to him. “So which socialite was it this time? Or was it a model? Or both?” she asked, her face filed with disgust.
“Did you hit your head?” Oliver cried in disbelief. It had been a few days since he’d seen Lois, but even with pieces of his memory missing, he knew things had been fine between them then. “Where is this coming from? You of all people know that I’ve been a one-woman man for a long time now.”
Lois snorted. “Right and if you think I believe that, you must be doing drugs again,” she quipped. “We both know that you’re nothing more than a sleazebag in an expensive suit.”
“That’s enough.” Wearing a dark suit and a firm expression, AC stepped between them and glared at Lois. “If you want to speak with Mr. Queen, you need to make an appointment like all the other bottom feeders.”
Oliver’s eyes widened even more. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen AC wear a suit before and he knew he’d never heard him speak to anyone like that, let alone someone who was his friend. “What is going on?” he asked. Oliver was starting to think he’d hit his head a lot harder than he thought.
Lois ignored AC and continued to glare at Oliver. “You can’t hide behind your bodyguard forever, Queen. I’m going to make sure the entire world knows exactly the kind of man you are,” she said.
AC took a step toward her. “Don’t make me repeat myself, Lane,” he warned.
Rolling her eyes, Lois switched off her tape recorder and tossed it in her purse. “Sooner or later you’re going to get yours, Queen and I’m going to be front row center with popcorn.” She gave them each one last dirty look and sauntered off down the sidewalk.
"I apologize for not getting here sooner, Mr. Queen. It won't happen again," AC insisted.
Oliver was still trying to figure out what the hell was going on as he watched Lois round the corner. Turning back to AC, he noted his friend was hesitant to look directly at him and kept averting his gaze to the sidewalk. “What was that about?” he asked. “Did you and Lois have a fight or something?”
“We’ve had several over the years, Mr. Queen. I know you said to keep her away from you at all costs and I assure you I take my job seriously,” AC said, a slight hint of panic rising in his voice.
“Seriously, is this some kind of joke?” Oliver asked. He studied AC carefully, looking for any sign of a smile. His friend didn’t have a good poker face and he was usually pretty easy to read. But his expression remained neutral. “Come on fish stick, give me something here,” he said.
AC’s eyebrows shot up and a look of sheer panic crossed his face. “What did you call me, Sir?” he asked quietly.
Oliver frowned. He knew AC wasn’t a fan of the fish nicknames anymore than Victor liked being referred to as computer parts, but Oliver had never seen this reaction from him before. “Fish stick?” he repeated uncertainly.
Swallowing hard, AC met his eyes for a brief moment before shifting his gaze away. “You have a busy day, Mr. Queen. I don’t want to keep you any longer,” he said.
“Right,” Oliver muttered. He obviously wasn’t going to get anything out of AC aside from weird looks. He started toward the front entrance of Queen Industries, pausing when he realized AC was remaining in the same spot. “Are you coming?” he asked.
AC looked confused. “Do you need me to?”
“I don’t know,” Oliver replied. He dragged a hand through his hair and wondered if it was possible for this day to get any weirder. “I don’t really know how this whole bodyguard thing works or why you decided I need one.” He looked at AC expectantly, hoping something in that statement would trigger an answer.
All it did was make AC look even more uncomfortable. “I’ve been your bodyguard for years, Sir. I know I messed up this morning but it won’t happen again. I need this job,” he added, his voice filled with desperation.
“It’s fine,” Oliver said quickly. He had no idea what was happening, but the last thing he wanted was to watch AC fall apart in front of him. “I guess I’ll see you later. Or whatever,” he said.
“Thank you, Mr. Queen,” AC replied gratefully.
Shaking his head, Oliver made his way into the building. The lobby receptionist was on the phone, but she sent a nervous smile in his direction as he passed her desk to get to the elevator. Oliver nodded, smiling back at her in response and saw a look of surprise flash across her face. Before he could push the button for the elevator, the doors opened and he jumped out of the way to avoid being hit with the mail cart.
“Sorry, Dude,” Bart called from the other side. His eyebrows shot up when he saw Oliver and his smile was quickly replaced with the same look of panic AC had been sporting earlier. “Bossman…I mean Mr. Queen. Sorry,” he said again.
“Bart?” Oliver glanced down at the mail cart between them before meeting Bart’s eyes again. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“Delivering mail,” Bart replied matter-of-factly. He raised an eyebrow at the strange look Oliver was giving him. “This is my job,” he said.
What the hell? Oliver thought. If his friends were playing a joke on him, they had really gone all out on this one. “Since when is your job to deliver mail?” he asked.
“Since you hired me,” Bart replied. He considered it. “Well, since your assistant hired me,” he clarified. “I’m a courier.”
Oliver smirked at the term. “I know, but since when does that involve delivering actual mail?” he asked.
“Since always,” Bart said. He looked at Oliver uncertainly. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“No,” Oliver replied. Not wanting to offer any further explanation, he moved around Bart, stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for his floor. He saw Bart send him another strange look over his shoulder before shrugging and pushing the cart toward the reception desk.
Leaning back against the wall, Oliver rubbed a hand over his neck and tried to figure out what was happening. The last thing he remembered was being at Watchtower with Chloe. He was pretty sure the guys had been there as well and he’d been in his Green Arrow gear. Chloe had been showing him something on the computer, blueprints, he recalled. They’d been in the middle of a mission or starting a mission.
Why couldn’t he remember the details?
The elevator dinged to signal its arrival on his private floor. He was surprised to see his assistant’s desk empty, but that was the least of his problems at the moment. Pushing open the door to his office, Oliver’s eyes widened, relief washing over him when he saw the familiar blonde standing beside his desk sorting through mail.
“Sidekick, thank God.” Oliver crossed the room to her as she looked up from the pile of mail. “I’m having the weirdest day.” Gripping her hips, he leaned in to kiss her, only to be met with her hand across his cheek, the force of the slap sending him stumbling back.
“What is the matter with you?” Chloe cried. Taking a step back to put even more distance between them, she glared at him. “Don’t think for one second I won’t sue you for sexual harassment,” she hissed.
“Sexual harassment?” Oliver’s eyes widened to the point that he was convinced they were going to pop out of his head. “Not you too,” he said as he rubbed his hand over his stinging cheek. “Come on, Chloe. This isn’t funny.”
“You’re right, it’s not and I suggest you keep your hands to yourself,” Chloe warned sharply.
The look on her face told him that she wasn’t kidding and her defensive posture was too real to be an act. She clearly wanted nothing to do with him. Oliver could live with Lois, AC and Bart hating him for whatever reason, but not Chloe. This had to be a dream or a time warp or something and he wanted out immediately.
“What’s the date?” he asked.
Chloe eyed him suspiciously. “February 20, 2011.”
Oliver frowned. That was the right date. But it didn’t make any sense. He thought back on the past few days, trying to piece together the missing chunks of his memory. He hadn’t spent a lot of time at the office because he’d been busy with the guys trying to sort out the mess Lionel had made. Lionel, who had come from a different reality, he recalled. Suddenly, he had a flash of Bart falling through the floor and then Clark shouting as the mirror box Bart had been playing with landed in his hands.
“I’m in the wrong reality,” he muttered. Perfect. Sighing, he rubbed his hands over his face and wondered how he was supposed to get out of this one.
“Have you been taking drugs again?” Chloe asked.
Oliver looked at her through his fingers. The look of disgust on her face hurt a lot more than it should have. He knew she wasn’t Chloe, not really, but the idea of any version of Chloe hating him was hard to take. “It’s nice that you and Lois both jumped straight to the conclusion that I must be on drugs,” he quipped.
“Lois knows you’re doing drugs again?” Chloe shook her head and bit down on the corner of her lip. “I guess I can ask her to hold off on the story until the deal goes through, but I’m not doing this for you.” She glared at him. “I worked really hard to make this happen and I’m not going to let you screw it up for me.”
“I’m not doing drugs,” Oliver snapped. Clearly the version of himself that existed in this reality was a real winner. He needed to make Chloe see that he wasn’t that guy. If there was one person who get help him, it was Chloe, even if it was just a different version of her. “Sidekick, listen to me,” he pleaded.
“Why do you keep calling me that?” Chloe interrupted. She took another step back, clearly afraid that he was going to try to touch her again.
“It’s what I always call you. Well, not you, my Chloe. I’m not from this world, exactly,” Oliver said. He could see that she wasn’t buying it and he couldn’t say that he blamed her. Judging by the way all of his friends had reacted to him, Oliver assumed she was probably used to her version of Oliver Queen spouting lies. He tried to recall what Clark had told him about his counterpart. He’d been pretty vague, now that he thought about it.
“Oliver, maybe you should have some coffee. Decaf,” Chloe added. She started toward the door.
“Chloe, wait.” Oliver started to reach for her and thought better of it when he saw the look in her eyes. Holding his hands up in front of him, he stepped into her path. “I know this sounds crazy, but you have to listen to me. I think I need to find Clark Luthor,” he said.
“The only Luthors I know are Lex and Tess,” Chloe replied. “There is no Clark Luthor.”
Oliver frowned. That didn’t make any sense. He was also pretty sure Clark had said Lex was dead in this reality as well. “Are you sure? He also goes by the name Ultra Man,” he said.
“I’m sure that I’ve never heard of Clark Luthor or Ultra Man,” Chloe replied.
“What about Lionel Luthor?” Oliver asked. “He probably disappeared for a few months and came back recently. Does that ring any bells?” he asked.
Chloe sent him another look that clearly said he was crazy and she was tired of this conversation. “Lionel Luthor has been dead for years and people don’t generally come back from the dead so he definitely hasn’t shown up recently. Oliver, what did you take last night?” she asked.
“Nothing, I’m not on drugs,” Oliver insisted as his mind began to race. This wasn’t the same reality Clark had landed in which meant he was really flying blind. “Chloe, I need your help,” he said.
Chloe sighed. “I know, that’s why you hired me. We need to go over your schedule. You have a meeting with Jack Crane at two and I know you need to read the latest version of the proposal. Do you want me to get the coffee first?” she asked.
“No,” Oliver replied. Desperate, he took her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him. “Chloe, please,” he said. “I’m not the Oliver you think I am. The Chloe Sullivan I know doesn’t hate me. You have to trust me.”
She stared at him quietly for a minute. He could feel the tension in her body, but she wasn’t trying to pull away from him. He held his breath, hoping that was a good sign. Before Chloe could say anything, the door opened and Tess walked in.
“Hard at work I see,” she commented, raising an eyebrow at their close proximity.
Oliver’s jaw tensed when Chloe immediately pulled away from him. He glared at Tess over his shoulder. “Now is not a good time.”
“It never is with you.” Tess’s eyes fell on Chloe. “You can go. I need to talk to my husband.”
Two.