Important Notice: I've removed the rest of this story because someone has plagiarized it. Thank you to everyone who told me! Sadly, that means I won't be continuing this story. Thank you so much for all the support my stories have received!
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Inspired by the movie Last Holiday.
Made to Stay
Prologue
October 2014
A nervous buzz filled the room as the staff of the Grand Dearden Hotel waited for the general manager to arrive. They were used to meetings, but it was unusual to have one with all departments in the middle of the month. As the sound of Amanda Waller's heels echoed on the marble floors, the buzz died down in anticipation of her arrival. More than a few people swallowed nervously, some even wiped their brows. The woman was intimidating to say the least. There were rumors going around that she had once sent someone running for the bathroom with a glare, though the person didn't make it in time. The result was unpleasant.
If someone dropped a pin, then it would've been heard as the general manager stopped in front of them. Her cold stare was present as usual, but the clenched jaw was a new addition.
"Good morning," she greeted everyone. Though with her tone, it sounded more like "you're all fired." Ms. Waller didn't wait for a response as her gaze swept across the room. "I received news this morning that concerns everyone here. A few weeks ago, I heard rumors that the Queen family—the company's CEO, Oliver Queen, in particular—is considering selling the hotel."
The buzz began anew, but it stopped with a raise of her hand. "I understand that the rumors are distressing, but for now they are just that . . . rumors. However, this morning, we were informed that the Queen family will be here for the holiday season. This could be a confirmation, but I choose to see it as an opportunity. We don't know what changes new owners would bring, so we need the Queens happy while they are here. The last thing they should want is to sell. That means anticipating their needs, making sure everything is perfect. Be courteous and professional at all times, and be invisible unless you're addressed directly. In other words, stay behind the scene while making sure their every need is met. I am sure we are up to the challenge, since we are motivated. Any questions?"
A young woman from the concierge service hesitantly raised her hand. "Ms. Waller, when you say 'anticipating their needs,' is that within the usual parameters?"
Amanda stared at her for a few seconds. "If rumors are to be believed, then the person interested in this hotel is Count Vertigo. Now we have all heard about his reputation, and I'm not going to let him run this hotel into the ground. Is that understood?"
The rest went unspoken—if they needed to color outside the lines, then so be it. Just be discreet. Nods of confirmation followed, and Amanda smiled tightly in response.
"Very well. We'll go over the details of their stay closer to the date of their arrival. Now let's get back to work." With that, she turned on her heel and headed back to her office.
Chapter One
March 2013
The ringtone kept playing in Felicity Smoak's mind over and over again. She had changed it numerous times, but she still couldn't get it out of her head. When she had answered the Las Vegas, Nevada number on her phone, Felicity had assumed her mother was calling. She hadn't seen her mother in a while, since she rarely went back to her childhood home after leaving for college. They used to talk on the phone frequently, though.
However, when the woman politely asked if she was Felicity Smoak, the young blonde assumed it was the police calling and that her mother had been arrested. Donna Smoak had chosen her only child to make her one call to, and any moment she would hear her mother's voice. That didn't happen. Instead, the woman said she was calling from the hospital, and Felicity was listed as her mother's emergency contact. Everything became a blur after the hospital administrator told her that Donna had been in an accident. She heard something about a motorcycle, the driver had died on the scene and her mother had succumbed to her injuries in the ambulance. But Felicity's mind still refused to process the information.
Two days later, she found herself back in Vegas, almost expecting her mother to greet her when she opened the apartment door. Throughout the funeral that followed—and at that moment, the reading of the will— Felicity's best friend, Barry Allen, was her rock. He had flown in with her, taking time off from his job to be there for her, because he had lost his own mother at a young age.
Her grip tightened on his hand as she looked around. Everything had changed, yet it still looked the same. Felicity took in the blue living room walls, the one accent wall with wallpaper, and the mustard yellow curtains. Her mother never did anything halfway, which was evident as the theme continued with a white and yellow open plan kitchen to Felicity's right. The small, bright apartment was her childhood home, and she kept expecting her mother to enter the room. Pictures stared back at her, and the images made her think about their last conversation over the phone; she kept wondering if she had told her mother she loved her before saying goodbye.
Though they didn't have a lot in common, Donna was always there for her. The older woman's ways to provide weren't always legal, but she certainly did all she could for her daughter. As though to reiterate that point, her mother's shady lawyer, Anthony Ivo—who was also her neighbor—cleared his throat before continuing with the reading of the will.
"Donna was a strong woman. She was also one of the most talented grifters I've ever met."
Thank you, Ivo. I don't think everyone here knew what she really did before. Probably expected, but the suspicion wasn't confirmed.
Their old downstairs neighbor, Beth, suddenly straightened in her chair. "She was homeless?! I thought she lived upstairs for years. Wait a minute, whose apartment is this?"
Her granddaughter, Haley, patiently rubbed her hand. "Not drifter, grifter. That means, uh . . . she acted off the stage."
That was certainly one way to explain it.
"Oh, how wonderful. I wish she had told me. She sometimes had this smile that was made for the silver screen."
Felicity smoothed her blonde ponytail over her shoulder, swallowing past the lump in her throat. "Thanks, Ms. Beth. I'm sure she would've appreciated the compliment."
Ivo cleared his throat again. "As I was saying, Donna was very talented. Which is why I'm surprised about this next part." His eyes held a glint of suspicion as he glanced at the young blonde. "Last, but not least, I leave the rest of all that I own to my daughter, Felicity Meghan Smoak. Keep that light inside you; it will show you the way. Now, as I'm sure you all know, Donna only rented this apartment, so it's just the furniture, etcetera that now belongs to you, Felicity. No money or anything significant really."
The creepy lawyer looked very disappointed, especially because he only got the couch he sat on. Felicity had to give her mother that—the part of the will which said, "because you love it so much," was a nice touch. From the day he moved in, he had come over a lot in an attempt to charm Donna. There was a time when he practically lived on that couch. However, the older Smoak woman saw through him, and she wasn't rich. Only he knew where he got the idea from in the first place. It would come as no surprise if he tore up the couch, looking for a secret money stash.
Everyone in the room was left stunned when Ivo got up and grabbed the one side of the couch. "Well, that's it. There's nothing more to her will. I'll just give you some space, Felicity. Take my couch and go. And sorry about the bad pun."
He began dragging the couch to the door. "Come by if you find anything. I mean, need anything." Ivo grinned awkwardly before wrestling with the piece of furniture to get it through the door.
"He is so creepy," Haley said after he left, moving her shoulders as though to shake off something.
Barry replied something that sounded like, "You can say that again."
However, Felicity couldn't be sure, since she tuned them out as she got up to make coffee. She was still functioning on autopilot like she had been since receiving the news, and she needed to keep busy—reality would crush her fragile strength if she stopped. The last part of her mother's will drifted from her thoughts as she internally compiled a list of what to keep or donate.
Lists were good. Lists kept her busy, so she wouldn't stop and think about her mother not needing anything anymore. When the reality threatened to break through, Felicity became more determined to not think about it. Not yet. She needed more time.
~A~
Time ran out quicker than she would've liked. Packing up her mother's belongings, sorting through what she wanted to keep and what would be donated, was one of the hardest moments of Felicity's life. That said, reality crashed through her walls when she found her and Donna's old scrapbook. Some photos fell out as she placed it on her lap, along with a few brochures and a magazine page displaying a winter wonderland.
Tears quickly blurred her vision, so she removed her glasses, placing them on the carpet beside her. Felicity sat there for a while before she could get herself to open the old book.
It was their dream to go to an old castle in the Alps, which was turned into a five star hotel a few decades ago. The Smoak women had it all planned—all they had needed were passports and the necessary funds, of course. The dream was also their hideaway for as long as Felicity could remember. Whenever either of them had a rough day, they would build a tent with blankets and chairs and just work on the book.
Little notes in their handwriting covered the pages, and one particular memory hit her hard. They had been lying on the living room floor, staring up at the pink sheet tent above them.
"I can't wait to go, Mom. I can almost feel the cold air on my face."
Her mother laughed, also feeling the little mist fan in front of them. "Me, too. Breathe in that fresh air. And, just as you come to a perfect stop on your skis, you look up and your eyes lock with a handsome young man. You'll both fall in love, and you'll live happily ever after."
Felicity rolled her eyes. "No, thanks. I'd rather make it our trip, just you and me."
Donna gently grabbed her hand. "You won't always be eleven—"
"And three quarters," she interrupted.
"And three quarters," her mother added, smiling indulgently. "Someday you're going to want to find the man of your dreams. Promise me one thing, okay?"
Felicity nodded quickly. "Of course."
"Don't just give your heart away to anyone. Make sure he's worthy first."
The young girl nodded with a serious expression on her face. "I completely agree. Maybe some kind of aptitude test could work. I can't marry a man with a low IQ."
As Felicity picked up a picture of her and her mother, Donna's responding laugh echoed through her mind. She could almost feel her mother's fingers combing through her hair.
Never change, Felicity. You're my little bright light.
Sadly, the closest they ever came to the dream was Felicity's job; she was an employee of the owner of the hotel. The young genius worked in the IT department at Queen Consolidated, and the Queen matriarch, Moira Queen—formerly Dearden—was the daughter of a hotel tycoon. The tycoon's assets were divided after he died, and Oliver Queen inherited the Grand Dearden Hotel among other properties. The wealth of her employers was a little hard to process. For example, Oliver's sister, Thea, inherited an island with an established resort. Add to that the fact that they were billionaire Robert Queen's heirs.
Shady Ivo would probably suggest a con if he ever found out where she worked. Thankfully, neither she nor her mother ever told him.
Felicity was startled from her thoughts when Barry entered her old bedroom. He had a small smile on his face with his hand behind his back. "Look what I found."
Then he held out a lighthouse nightlight; the one she couldn't sleep without until she was nine. Her mother used to say that the lighthouse was a tower in a fairytale, and the princess needed to show the prince the way home. She took the nightlight from Barry, carefully tracing the small windows.
"I can't believe she kept this."
"I'm wondering if it still works. Not sure if you remember this, but I've heard of this light in a game of truth and dare."
"That was freshman year in college." Rolling her eyes at him, Felicity picked up her glasses and put them on again. "And I do still remember that lame night. Who thought that it would be a nice idea to crash a fraternity party at Harvard. We were both underage, and we're lucky we managed to escape before anything happened."
The truth was the two had chickened out on their way to the front door, and they ended up spending the night in a small diner playing truth and . . . well, truth. Neither of them wanted to do dares.
Plugging in the light, Barry turned it on and then upside down to check the wiring when it didn't work. "Have you ever thought about the fact that you could've met Oliver Queen that night?"
Felicity looked at him like he just told her he was an alien. "What are you talking about?"
He shrugged casually as he removed the bottom of the light. "I had heard from Caitlin, who had heard from her boyfriend's roommate, that Oliver was there that night. But then he dropped out a few weeks later."
"It wouldn't have made a difference. He wouldn't notice me now, much less then even if I stood in front of him. You remember how he was, right?"
Instead of answering, Barry frowned and pulled a piece of paper from inside the light. "The wires have been removed. There's only this . . . here, it has your name on it."
She immediately recognized her mother's handwriting. With trembling hands, Felicity took the page and unfolded it.
My dearest Felicity, my little light.
Well, I guess you're not so little anymore. I can't tell you how proud I am of you, and I knew you would find this note. You called me today to tell me about your promotion—you have your own office now. Small, but no longer a cubicle. Honestly, you could've told me you have your own corner office. I can't be prouder of you than I am right now. You're my little genius, my little star.
Now for the sad part. If you're reading this etc. . . . Obviously, I'm not with you anymore, but I wish I could be. At least I can leave you with something. When you left for college on the scholarship—so proud of you, honey—I was sad that I hadn't been able to do more. I should've put more money away to help with living expenses. That's when I began to save the only way I knew how, and I've managed to put together a nice little nest egg. In the event of my death, the amount will be transferred to you. Don't worry, I made sure that it's clean. It will be part of my last will and testament.
I'm sure you're wondering about the secrecy. I didn't want Ivo or anyone from my old life to know. When you walk away from this apartment, I want it to be for good. No ties, nothing to hold you back. I don't want anyone looking for you because of money. You've always deserved more than this life.
That is why I want to ask you something. It was my dream that we'd go to the Grand Dearden Hotel. If we haven't been there yet, then I want you to do something for me. I know you won't want to go because it's a lot of money, but please, do it for me. Do it for our dream. For those couple of days, I want you to live the life I always wanted to give you.
I'll always be proud of you.
With all my love,
Mom
~A~
January 2014
The days and months that followed weren't easy. Memories snuck up on Felicity at unexpected times, and she tried to move past the regret that they hadn't visited each other more often. Along with all of that, it had taken a while to sort everything out, and she still found it hard to believe that her mother had left her nearly eighty thousand dollars. She didn't even want to think about what her mother did to save that much.
She hadn't touched any of it, though. It felt almost wrong in a way; not only was the origin of the money questionable, but she would be going without her mother if she went to the hotel. However, there was one thing she did do. Her mother hadn't asked her, but Felicity had erased most of Donna's history. If anyone were to look into her past, it would look as though Donna Smoak was a single mother and cocktail waitress, which had been her normal job. The rest was gone. The few casinos in Atlanta that had caught her mother for card-counting no longer knew about her. Those had been the early years, and Donna had been more careful in Vegas. Any links to other identities the older woman had used for certain jobs were also gone. All traces of that life that Felicity could find had been deleted.
Breaking out of her reverie, the young blonde pushed up her glasses and focused on the new day ahead. Queen Consolidated was officially open for the new year, so everyone would be returning to their jobs. The past two weeks hadn't been easy. Not only had she been on the dreaded standby schedule over the holiday season, but there was also a power failure throughout the city a few days ago. When the lights came on, someone attempted to hack the Applied Sciences Division. Added up, there were more call-outs than she had anticipated. Hopefully, it would be her turn to be off during the holidays next time.
Everything quickly went back to a normal workday, and the highlight of Felicity's days was when she could watch one of her favorite TV shows with Barry. Well, talking over the phone or video call, since Barry lived in Central City. However, the downside was he always brought up the letter before their calls ended. He thought she should go, while Felicity wanted to forget about the money until she felt ready to deal with it.
January became February, and a week before Valentine's Day, there was a precise thump on her small office's door: knock . . . knock-knock . . . knock. The sound identified the person, even though he didn't wait for a response before opening the door. It was Nigel—the guy in the IT department who kept going on blind dates. The break room talk was that it was mostly dates with women he met online. Though he seemed nice enough, Nigel kept going on first dates, so hopefully it would work out soon.
He stood awkwardly in front of her desk, and the nervous gesture of making sure his oiled hair was still slicked back told her all she needed to know. "You need a favor?"
He nodded.
"A date?"
He grinned and nodded eagerly.
Felicity's eyes widened behind her glasses as realization hit. "I mean, you're going on a date. Not the two of us. You need me to cover for you again, right?"
He nodded again. "Yes, will you?"
She sighed and reclined back in her chair. "Before I say yes, what do I need to do and when?"
Nigel quickly sat down on the chair next to her desk. "Mr. Queen's computer needs an update or something. Apparently, one program keeps crashing when he opens it. He's been using his computer all morning, so the repair is scheduled over lunch. I would do it, of course, but I have a date. I have a feeling she could be the one. Please, Felicity, I won't ask again."
You also said that the last time. And the time before that and the time before that. . . . Felicity held her breath before letting it out slowly, promising herself that it would be the last time. "Ok, sure." She held up her index finger. "But this really is the last time, Nigel."
He nearly bounced out of his chair. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! Really, I think she's the one. This is actually our second date, and I want to ask her out for Valentine's Day."
That's progress, I guess. She smiled, truly hoping it would work out this time. It was hard to see the guy get his heart broken over and over again. "I hope you have an amazing lunch together."
"Thanks, Felicity." Returning her smile, Nigel headed for the door before stopping. "Who knows? If all goes well, maybe she has a nice brother or cousin we can introduce you to. We could double date and celebrate the day of love."
Why does it sound like my lack of personal life is a break room topic? Felicity was sure she looked as horrified as she felt. "That's not necessary. Really."
He waved his hand through the air. "It's no trouble. See you, Felicity. And thanks again."
She lowered her head until it rested on her desk. This couldn't be happening. Sure, her last boyfriend was five years ago, but she wasn't a spinster. Liking her neighbor's cat didn't mean anything. Looking up, Felicity checked the time on her computer screen, which read: 12:44 PM.
Nice, Nigel. You only gave me a sixteen minute warning. Quickly gathering up what she might need, Felicity headed for the elevator and remembered the last time she was on the top floor. The previous CEO, Walter Steele, appreciated her abilities, and she had a little input on some of the Applied Sciences projects before Mr. Steele stepped down. Oliver Queen took over the family business, and she was forgotten among the masses. Maybe this was an opportunity to make him notice her. However, that would mean talking to him, and the guy was very good-looking. She could feel the babbling bubbling up inside just imagining the scenario.
The elevator doors opened on the top floor, and Felicity looked around nervously. It still looked the same, but her mind knew it wasn't Mr. Steele in that office. She had seen Oliver a few times in the lobby, but never up close.
I should've worn flats today. Her ankles suddenly felt a little unsteady on her black three inch pumps, and she regretted wanting to add to her height of five feet and four inches. Felicity's thoughts were occupied with her comfortable Panda flats waiting at home when she stopped at the executive assistant's desk. "Hi, I'm Felicity Smoak from the IT department. I'm here to look at Mr. Queen. I mean, his computer! I'm talking about his computer. Sure, it must be nice to look at him, but—" Felicity bit her lower lip, silently counting backwards. "I mentioned IT department, right?"
The woman appeared taken by surprise, but she quickly recovered. "Yes, of course. Mr. Queen has already left for lunch, and I'm about to head out as well. You'll find an envelope on his desk regarding the problem, along with his password. Do you need anything else?"
"What time will Mr. Queen be back? I don't want to be in the way."
His assistant suddenly glared at her like she was wearing only a trench coat. "Be sure to clear out before two. Mr. Queen has a meeting directly after lunch, and he would hate a delay."
Felicity slightly tilted her head to the side and stared at the woman. Did his assistant really think she was going to hit on their boss? Well, Felicity's boss' boss. There were literally a lot of levels between her and Oliver Queen. "Of course, no problem."
The woman, who didn't introduce herself, gave her one last look before walking to the elevators. The day certainly wasn't one of the best.
In his office, Felicity not only found the envelope, but she also discovered that he had forgotten his phone. For some women, if he didn't have a password, it would've been tempting to be so close to having his number. Felicity, however, didn't give his phone a second thought and opened the envelope. Inside, she found a piece of paper with the Queen Consolidated letterhead at the top, and she momentarily stared at the handwriting; something told her he wrote the note himself. Could someone have attractive handwriting? Something about it was masculine.
Don't be ridiculous. Get ahold of yourself before you need a hand fan! Quickly waking up his computer, Felicity made an internal memo that she needed to leave a note regarding changing his password. Robert2007gambit was really not secure, considering that was the year Robert Queen died on their yacht, the Queen's Gambit, in a storm. And Oliver had just given her the password—an employee, but a stranger.
The password reminded Felicity that Oliver had went off the grid after his father's accident. Whatever happened then, he went from playboy to CEO when he returned five years later. Personally, Felicity had always wondered if he went to some extreme fitness camp. He was always fit, but after his return. . . . There were no words, just staring with jaws dropped.
Shaking off those thoughts, Felicity started to look for the source of the computer problem and quickly found it. Knowing what the solution was, the IT genius took out her Angry Birds USB drive and removed the cover. Unfortunately, she put it down too close to the edge of the desk, and the bird rolled over the edge as she inserted the drive. Muttering under her breath, Felicity got down on her knees and crawled under the desk. The bird was within her grasp when she heard the door open and saw a man enter the office. He was clearly in a hurry. She looked up slowly, seeing Oliver Queen head her way like he just stepped out of an advertisement for suits. Swallowing heavily, Felicity wondered what she should do, but he stopped in front of the desk before she could decide.
It got worse.
First, she awkwardly waved through the glass surface of the desk, and then he crouched down and picked up the little red bird. While Oliver turned it over in his hand, as though inspecting it, Felicity stared at his face. The way the suit jacket accentuated his shoulders was close to breathtaking, but his face. . . . Her mouth felt a little dry and her heart beat loudly. She wondered if there was even a small chance that he could hear it.
Then it got even worse; he spoke.
"Yours, I assume?" He held out the little bird toward her.
Oh boy, keep it together. Felicity took the red object from his hand, blushing as her fingertips brushed his. "Yes, thank you."
She stared for a moment longer before crawling backwards. He offered to help her up, but before he could get around the desk, Felicity managed to gracefully stand up while wearing heels and a pencil skirt. At least, she hoped it was graceful—she used the desk for leverage. Sitting down in his chair, Felicity's ponytail moved as she quickly turned to look for his phone.
She held it toward him, the desk between them. "Yours, I assume?"
And that sounds like flirting! She felt her cheeks heat up and smiled nervously.
"Yes, thank you." Oliver smiled slightly, taking the phone from her.
Felicity felt a little self-conscious as his gaze remained on her, and she tried to subtly pull down the hem of her skirt as she crossed her ankles. There was an intensity in his eyes that wasn't unwelcome, even if others would've thought it was unprofessional. Something almost tangible filled the air, and she began wondering if the air cooling system was still working; it definitely didn't feel like it.
"You're from IT?" he asked, still staring at her.
Deep breaths. She pushed up her glasses as she tried to stop feeling flustered. "Yes, I'll be done in a few minutes. It won't take long to fix the problem."
"Good, then you won't have to spend your whole lunch hour here." His smile was charming with a hint of danger. Danger for her heart, of course. The man's smile shouldn't be that mesmerizing.
"I-I don't mind. I love my job."
He looked at her for a few seconds longer—there was without a doubt something in his eyes—and then he turned and walked to the door.
"Wait! Uh . . . please, Mr. Queen." She wished she had something to stop her mouth from talking. A burger, donut or sardines for that matter. Anything would be better than this.
Their eyes met as he turned around. "Yes?"
Nervously touching her neck, Felicity pulled at the pink collar of her shirt. I need air. Oxygen levels feel low and that's not possible.
His eyes followed her hand, but then he focused on her face again. Before she could stop herself, the words spilled out of her mouth. "Please remember to change your password. Preferably to something a bit more . . . complex, not so personal."
No, oh please no. Please tell me I didn't just say that to my boss' boss. I'm so fired. Or worse, they'll transfer me somewhere remote.
She missed the intrigued spark in his eyes, due to her own being closed tightly, but she heard his quiet, "Thank you, I'll remember."
He was gone by the time she opened her eyes. The whole encounter lasted less than ten minutes, and it felt surreal after he left. The only signs that he was there were her increased heart rate and his phone was no longer there. She wondered how she would be able to put the incident behind her, because she had never felt more embarrassed in her life.
However, after looking down and realizing she was sitting in his chair, Felicity's mind replayed the whole event. He's the CEO of the company, and I just gave him his phone like that . . . while he was standing on the other side of his desk. And I kind of gave him an order. Oh no, what is going through his mind right now? She slid down in the chair, nearly falling off the edge, and covered her face with her hands.
I should've said no to Nigel. I should've just said no.
~A~
In the early morning hours of the fifteenth of February, Felicity awoke with a start from a dream. Or nightmare, depending on the point of view. Oliver Queen was a hard man to forget. She had done all she could think of not to remember those few minutes in his office. However, her eyes kept searching for him in the Queen Consolidated lobby, and a part of her hoped his computer would have another problem. The latter hurt her a little bit, as though she was the one damaging technology.
A few days before, she had known with certainty there was a problem when she dreamed about hacking into his computer just to sabotage it. That dream had haunted her through the whole day, and she even tried to use punishment training on her brain. Instead of eating a burger for lunch, Felicity decided to eat salad every day that she thought of him.
In the end, all she had lost was weight. She wasn't happy about it, either, because she liked the way her clothes fit. She was comfortable in her skin. To make matters worse, she suspected the next phase would include stress baking, and she had no desire to buy new clothes.
If only Nigel had asked someone else for a favor.
Getting up, Felicity went into the bathroom and splashed her face with cold water. As she looked up, the young woman stared at her reflection and remembered the last dream. She and Oliver had been stuck in an elevator, and then he decided they could rescue themselves. He climbed through the hatch on top, and then he lifted her up quickly with one arm.
She felt slightly feverish as she remembered his strength.
Then, for some reason, they had to swing across an open space that was twenty-five floors high. He produced a grappling hook from somewhere, and then they were Tarzan and Jane of the urban jungle. The part that stood out was how she had clung to him, not wanting to let go, and it had nothing to do with her fear of heights. She had woken up just as they were about to kiss while balancing on a beam, adrenaline rushing.
Remembering the intensity in dream-Oliver's eyes, Felicity blushed and splashed her face again. She had to do something. First, no more action movies before going to bed—the genre was preferable over romantic comedies on Valentine's Day, especially when the only companion was the neighbor's cat dropping by periodically. Secondly, it was time to put Oliver Queen behind her and focus on something else.
Unable to go back to sleep, Felicity picked up her tablet and searched for the Grand Dearden Hotel. She spent a while browsing through the website, and the more she thought about it, the more she became convinced that she should go. Maybe the whole incident with Oliver was needed to give her a nudge in the right direction.
She spent her weekend between the website, the scrapbook, the letter and Barry. By Sunday night, she had made up her mind. She would go. For her mother and herself, she would go and make the most of it. A part of Felicity felt free with the decision, and Monday morning she asked her boss if she could be off in December. The schedule usually came out early November to include Thanksgiving, but after gently reminding him of all her overtime hours and lack of sick days taken, Felicity's boss conceded. The only condition was that she had to keep it quiet, because other employees would want to do the same as well.
Felicity began making arrangements, and soon her reservation was made and her flights booked. It was all set. She would spend the holiday season in Europe, and she would do her best to forget the costs involved. With her focus on that, she managed to think past thoughts of Oliver and life returned to normal, though she never completely forgot. After all, she couldn't get much closer to him, could she? They did work in the same building.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it. Originally, I wanted to write a one-shot as a thank you for the amazing response Love Found received. However, this story had other ideas, so there will be seven chapters. ~ Pixie :)