Author's Note: Whew! Even with a faster pace, the burn between Oliver and Shane still seems slow at times. Oliver continues to surprise Shane (and us), and, well, Shane's certainly not fighting it. And then we have Norman and Rita! Will they follow suit with Sholiver and finally become Norita? We can hope, can't we?

A note on my characters Esther and Eva Hart. They are real survivors of The Titanic disaster. If you search YouTube for Eva Hart, you should be able to find the video referred to in the story. I have, of course, taken some artistic license with their story, but much of it is accurate.

Thank you, Martha Williamson, for creating these characters, and to Eric and Kristin for bringing them to life!

Chapter 8

The clapping of Shane's three-inch heels echoed off the walls of the hallway leading into the DLO Thursday morning. She moved so quickly that she could barely keep them on her feet. Every nerve tingled, and she held her breath, expecting to find Oliver on the other side of those doors and hoping he was alone. It took her a long while to settle down after he left last night. The dinner, the dancing, the kisses...oh, those kisses. Her cheeks burned just thinking about them. Oliver was a fantastic kisser, and the moment his lips touched hers, she'd gone limp against him, relishing the feel of his strong, muscular arms that held her up. Time lost all meaning while their lips explored new levels of intimacy, and everything around them faded away.

As had become her habit, Shane's eyes darted straight to Oliver's desk. Her heart plummeted when she saw the chair was unoccupied. The stack of papers he'd meticulously arranged prior to leaving the day before remained untouched. She glanced at her watch, and a surge of panic coursed through her. Had something happened to him on his way in? Was he in an accident? She dismissed her fears, convincing herself that her desire to see him was causing her to overreact.

She situated herself at her desk and attempted to take her mind off of Oliver by busying herself with the results of the search she'd programmed before leaving yesterday. Her efforts proved successful, and she was greeted with more information to weed through than she expected. It didn't take long to become engrossed in her work. She didn't hear the doors open or the footsteps as they approached. Oliver's cologne filled her senses first, raising goosebumps on her arms. His hot breath on her neck followed his cologne and a sultry, "Good morning, Ms. McInerney," told her Oliver had arrived.

She sucked in her breath, her body trembling like a fall leaf in the breeze, desperate to stay tethered to its branch just a little longer. Then, in an entirely inappropriate but daring move, she felt his lips on her neck. "Oliver!" She cried. She whipped around in her seat and found a contrite yet smug Oliver, with hands behind his back and his blue eyes both teasing and breathtaking.

Now, it was Shane's turn to scan the room to ensure they were alone. "Don't worry, Ms. McInerney. I made sure we were alone. But we won't be for long, so I thought it best to take advantage of our solitude." He leaned over her, letting his lips find hers, and his hand gently pulling her closer as their mutual passions ignited like a stoked ember.

Oh my, she thought. Thank heavens for chairs. If she hadn't been sitting, Oliver would have had to scoop her up from the floor, not that being scooped into Oliver's arms was a bad thing. Shane still hadn't gotten used to the intense physical reaction she had from a simple kiss, though nothing about kissing Oliver was simple.

Her fingers swept across her forehead, brushing away the glistening beads of sweat that had formed. Her chest rose as she took a deep inhale, centering herself after being caught off balance. "Mr. O'Toole! It hasn't even been a week, and you are breaking every rule of conduct that we established before I began working here." She tried to sound stern, but she was still trying to regain her composure, and her reprimand came out as a breathy whisper.

"I know," he smirked. "I've given that some thought, and I believe it may be necessary to reevaluate our guidelines as I find myself struggling to control myself in your presence, even more so when we are alone." She shivered as his low, husky voice penetrated through her.

As he leaned in, the intensity of his gaze held her captive. Her eyes stayed fixed on his. Her lips parted ever so slightly in anticipation. He was closing the distance between them when...

"Good morning!" Rita burst through the doors and called out. Shane and Oliver quickly backed away from each other, their faces both red from their brief but steamy encounter.

"Good morning, Rita." Oliver's voice cracked as he hurried to his desk and quickly transitioned to section leader of the DLO.

Shane chuckled under her breath, thinking it served him right to have been caught breaking his own rule. She thought she could probably send him over the edge if she walked over and put her hand on his arm. But she wouldn't. She was rather enjoying flirtatious Oliver and didn't want to do anything that would squelch that side of him. Rita's eyebrows knit together as her gaze moved quickly between Shane and Oliver. Shane promptly averted Rita's eyes, not wanting to give her any fodder for further thought.

Rita shuffled off to her station, as her eyes darted between her teammates.

Norman followed shortly after, pushing a cart filled with multiple bins.

"What is all that, Norman?" Oliver asked as he removed his jacket and began rolling up his sleeves.

"Well, it seems there's been an outbreak of people forgetting to use zip codes when addressing their envelopes." Norman rolled the cart over to Rita. Shane noticed his difficulty in looking Rita in the eyes. Poor Norman, his nervousness around Rita was so innocently sweet. "These are for Rita." He turned toward her. "I'm sure with your memory, it won't take long for you to get these properly coded and back in the system."

Shane couldn't help but smile at Norman's subtle compliment. She wondered if they were aware their attraction to each other was evident to outsiders.

Rita stood with her mouth hanging open, following Norman to his desk. She quickly turned away and busied herself with the bin of letters. Rita didn't see Norman as he sat down and looked up, his gaze on her lingering a little longer than usual. Shane watched all of this from afar and felt compelled to somehow intervene and bring these two together.

From her perch behind her computer screen, she was in the best position to watch the transformation of the DLO as it turned into a four-square game of covert looks. Rita to Norman, Norman to Rita, She to Oliver, and Oliver to her. Shane only knew of Oliver's looks because she'd caught him looking up at her while she stared at him herself. If someone had been unfortunate enough to be positioned in the crosshairs of the two lines of sight, they might have been struck down by the rapid and intense exchange of electricity that flowed between the four.

"Hey, everyone, come see what I found on YouTube," Shane called out to the others.

"What's YouTube?" Even Norman rolled his eyes a bit at Oliver's inquiry.

"Just come here."

The three crowded around Shane as she brought up a video on her computer monitor. "Watch this. It's Eva Hart. The daughter of our letter writer."

With a click of her mouse, her screen came to life. The video was old, circa 1985. So far in their investigation, Eva Hart was always referred to as a seven-year-old little girl. Yet here she was. A woman who had to be in her 80s, with elegant silvery grey hair styled in a way reminiscent of Queen Elizabeth's. Shane was captivated by her flawless British accent. A hush settled over the room as they watched and listened to her recount that harrowing night.

Shane's breath hitched when Eva Hart spoke of how terrifying it was to be separated, albeit briefly, from her mother as they made their way to one of the few available lifeboats. The interviewer asked what she saw from where she floated on the open sea.

"Well, I saw a sinking ship. The night was dark. Stars dotted the sky, but there was no moon. It took two hours for it to sink." She spoke of her father, her devotion to him, and that though she was only seven, she knew she would never see him again. She was asked if she wanted to see the Titanic raised from the depths of the ocean. She was quick to insist that she never wanted to see that happen because it was, in fact, her father's grave.

Shane glanced at Oliver, curious if Eva Hart's devotion to her father, even after so much time, might prompt him to consider reconnecting with his father.

All four remained silent as Shane turned off the video. The video didn't bring them any closer to finding the letter's rightful owner, but it served as a heartbreaking reminder of the significance of their quest.

Shane's stomach rumbled, and when she checked her phone, she realized it was well past her usual lunchtime. She and Rita were alone in the DLO, so as she grabbed her bag, she asked Rita to join her for lunch. Shane suggested somewhere other than the Mailbox Grille. The likelihood of running into Norman, Oliver, or both of them there was too great, and what she really wanted to do was question Rita about what she saw going on between her and Norman.

"So, Rita, what's with you and Norman?" They had just gotten their food when Shane's question stopped Rita's fork midway to her mouth.

Rita furrowed her brows. "Uh, what do you mean?" she asked, her tone laced with suspicion.

"Oh, come on, Rita. The sparks flying between the two of you were enough to start a small wildfire," Shane chuckled.

Rita's exotic olive-toned skin turned a deep shade of crimson. "You can't rush these things," her fork picked its way through her salad.

"How long have you known him?"

"Three years, nine months. We met during the Christmas rush. He helped me pick up a stack of catalogs I spilled on the floor." A wistful smile crossed her face. "He was so sweet."

Shane returned her smile. "He is sweet. Do you think he has any idea how you feel?"

Rita's eyes grew wide. "Oh, I don't know, I don't think so, I can't tell."

Shane laughed. "Well, don't you think it's time you find out?"

"Maybe, but I don't know. Shouldn't I wait for him to make the first move?"

"Rita! We are in the twenty-first century. If you feel the way I think you do, you need to let him know."

"I wouldn't know how. I keep thinking he'll catch on, but maybe he's just not interested," Rita's voice trailed off.

"Rita, from where I sit, I can see how you look at him, but I also see how he looks at you. Trust me, he's interested."

"Really?" Rita's lips curved into a wide smile.

"Really."

Rita's eyes lit up at Shane's reassurances. "What about you?"

"What about me?" asked Shane.

"What's going on between you and Oliver?"

Shane's mouth dropped. "Uh, what, what do you mean?"

"C'mon, Shane. Norman may not notice things, but I do. I saw how you two looked this morning when you weren't expecting me," Rita snickered. "Oliver could barely talk, and you were all flushed and sweating."

"I was not," Shane impugned.

"Oh, yes, you were," Rita giggled.

"Well, I..." Shane was at a loss for words. She knew Oliver would be mortified if he found out either Norman or Rita knew about their relationship, so she quickly decided to take the fault for this morning's exchange.

"Um, it was me." Shane stuttered, trying to pull it together enough to convince Rita. "I was teasing Oliver about needing my computer skills to resolve Margaret Brown's letter."

"Teasing? Oliver?" Rita shook her head. "Shane, you're not the only one who 'sees' things."

"Huh?"

Rita laughed. "Do you forget I was at your dance showcase? From the way the two of you looked at each other, I don't think you even realized there were people in the audience."

"Rita, Oliver was still married then. I would never do anything..." Shane stopped, realizing she was digging a hole she might not be able to climb out of.

"Ah hah! I was right. You wouldn't do anything because he was married, but he's not anymore. So?"

Shane's face felt like it was running through ever shade of red on the spectrum. Defeated, she admitted, "I might have an interest in Oliver."

Rita smiled. "Just an interest? Well, I think he's interested too. Why else would he get you transferred to our team?"

Shane checked her phone, needing an escape. "Oh gosh, we better get back to work." She didn't wait for Rita to say anything else. As they walked back to the office, she pleaded, "Rita, please don't say anything to anyone, not to Norman, and especially not to Oliver."

"Don't worry. Mums the word." Rita ran her fingers along her closed lips, motioning as though she were locking her lips and throwing away the key.

Shane felt a sense of relief wash over her. Although she hadn't known Rita for long, her gentle nature and kindness had quickly earned her trust.

When they returned from lunch, Oliver and Norman were sorting through the remaining contents of the box that had held the letter for Margaret Brown.

"Anything interesting?" Shane felt a surge of excitement as she watched Norman and Oliver go through the remaining letters. She'd been curious if they would find anything else as interesting as Esther Hart's letter to Margaret Brown.

Oliver nodded to Shane. "The majority of the letters are still in good condition, but they lack postage. It looks like you'll have your hands full, Ms. McInerney. We will need your skills to determine who should receive these letters now." Oliver looked directly at her with a raised eyebrow. His hands held firmly behind his back, he added a little bounce. "It may require some additional hours to get these processed in a reasonable amount of time."

Shane's stomach flipped as she read through the lines of Oliver's words. Additional hours, indeed. As long as he was going to put in those extra hours with her, she was okay with that. Rita shot a smirk in her direction, and Shane returned it with a scowl of her own.

Norman piped up. "Well, if all of us put in extra hours, we should be able to get through it that much faster."

"Oh, well, I'm not sure that will be necessary. Most of the work will require Ms. McInerney's computer skills." Oliver shifted his weight back and forth as he bumbled through his answer. "Besides, there is only so much budget allocated for overtime."

Shane covered her mouth with her hand, trying to shield her smile from sight. She didn't know about Norman and Rita, but she was a salaried employee, so working extra hours did not affect the budget. Oliver was obviously looking for a tactful way to shut down Norman's idea but do it without raising any questions.

Shane looked at Rita, who was now raising an eyebrow of her own. Shane pressed her lips into a tight line, silently urging Rita, with her eyes, to stop with the facial expressions.

With Norman and Rita finally gone for the day, the office was quiet and empty except for the two of them. Shane sauntered over to Oliver's desk, stepped behind him, and leaned over, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and leaning close to his ear. She felt Oliver shudder as she whispered, "Extra hours, Mr. O'Toole?"

"Ahem." Oliver tensed up but then relaxed into her embrace. "I just thought it might explain the additional time we are spending together without raising eyebrows."

"Quick thinking, Oliver. She let her lips find his jawline before whispering, "What shall we do for dinner tonight?" It felt rather bold to assume they would have dinner together again. But they'd had dinner together, in some form or fashion, the last four out of five nights, so she thought her expectation was justified.

He swerved his chair around to face her. He took her hands and kissed each one. "Sadly, I am unavailable tonight."

"Oh." Shane's face fell as a wave of unease washed over her. It was surprising how quickly old insecurities could send your thoughts in the wrong direction. Perhaps Oliver was growing tired of her and needed a break. While she could understand, she didn't feel that way at all. Though her initial worry was that so much time together could become wearisome, it had the opposite effect on her. No, she wanted to spend more time with him. There was so much to get to know about Oliver, and her curiosity never seemed satisfied.

Oliver rose and ran his hands up and down Shane's arms, prompting goosebumps. He lifted a finger to her chin, bringing her gaze to meet his. "I have choir practice tonight." He brought her closer. "I would very much like to have dinner with you, but that will have to wait until tomorrow night. That is if you will join me for a nice dinner out, possibly with dancing?"

The spark returned to Shane's eyes, and her lips curved into a grin that reached across her face. "I would like that very much, Oliver."

He leaned in, his lips finding hers with a soul-searing kiss that didn't last nearly long enough. "Why don't you grab your things, and I'll walk you to your car."

Oliver opened Shane's car door, and she moved to get in but stopped and turned toward him. The sun had just gone below the horizon, radiating pink and yellow glows. She could barely make out Oliver's features. What she really wanted to do was kiss him goodbye, but the parking lot was much too public. Even she would be embarrassed if someone saw them, so she was sure it would be the same for Oliver. She would have to settle for a simple 'good night.'

"Have a good evening, Ms. McInerney."

"You too, Oliver. Enjoy your rehearsal. I'll have to make it a point to come and listen."

"You are always welcome."

Just as Shane was getting into her car, she heard, "Yoo Hoo! Hello Oliver, hello Shane." Eleanor curried toward her car, which was parked next to Shane's.

Shane couldn't see Oliver's face well, but she could imagine how flushed his cheeks were. "Hello, Eleanor. Did you have a good day?"

"Just processing passports. Now that summer is over, we're through the rush of people needing them for vacation. What are you two up to tonight?"

Eleanor's voice suggested they must be doing something together. Had Oliver said something to her? Shane knew they were close, but she wasn't sure how close. "Oh, I'm just heading home," she said casually.

Oliver finally found his voice. "And I am on my way to choir practice. Ms. McInerney and I were just discussing our latest challenging letter."

"Of course, of course. I forgot Thursdays are choir night."

Oliver explained. "Eleanor and I attend the same church."

Shane smiled and nodded. "That's nice. Well, I better get going. Have a good night." As she pulled away, she saw Oliver open Eleanor's car door. Always the gentleman, she missed him already.

Shane sat comfortably in the corner of her sofa. Her laptop was open as she continued to search for Margaret Brown's relatives. She found a promising lead and was excited to share her findings with the rest of the team. On a whim, she typed Joe O'Toole, USPS, into her search bar. She got several results that included O'Toole and USPS. As she read, she realized how deep The O'Toole postal legacy really ran. Continuing through the results, she came to a LinkedIn profile for Joseph O'Toole, FedEx. Shane scrunched her nose. It had to be one and the same. She imagined his father's decision to work for the competition was a sign of rejection for Oliver, further justifying his estrangement from him. Shane hesitated for a moment before deciding to send a connection request. Uncertain of what might come of it, she resolved to cross that bridge when she came to it.

Her phone had been within arm's reach all night, and she found herself repeatedly checking it to ensure she hadn't missed any calls. Despite knowing that it was improbable, she still held out a glimmer of hope that Oliver would call. She looked up from her computer screen several times, envisioning Oliver at the other end of the couch, engrossed in Shakespeare, legs stretched out, so her feet rested on his. The notion didn't frighten her. In fact, the opposite was true. Her heart beat a bit faster as recognition dawned on her face. Yes, she could definitely see the scenario playing out. She hoped it was somewhere in Oliver's stream of consciousness, too.

She had no idea how long choir rehearsals lasted, and it was almost nine o'clock. Even if he was home, Shane knew Oliver had clear guidelines about the cutoff time for evening calls. She picked the phone up for another check and nearly dropped it as it began ringing. Her stomach flipped when she saw Oliver's name splashed across the top of the screen. Had she manifested his call with her thoughts of a quiet evening spent together? She let it ring a few more times, not wanting to appear too anxious.

"Hello, Oliver," she said brightly.

"Uh, good evening, Shane. How did you know it was me?"

"I have your number programmed into my phone, so it tells me who is calling before I answer." She smiled, visualizing the confused expression on his face.

"Well, that is convenient, though a bit unnerving for the person making the call," he sounded a touch put off.

Shane laughed and then teased, "It helps me decide whether to answer the call or not," she teased.

"Well, I guess I should be thankful that you chose to answer my call, especially at this late hour," his voice sounded a bit more relaxed.

"Oliver, I will always answer your calls," she assured him.

"Ahem, I just wanted to say goodnight. I've grown accustomed to doing so in person. I rather missed that this evening," Oliver said in a hushed tone.

Shane's heart soared. Happy tears sprang to her eyes. "I was just thinking the same thing, Oliver."

"It's good to hear that we are in agreement on this issue."

"It is, Oliver. It really is," Shane's heart quivered, and she put her hand to her chest.

"I trust you had a good evening?"

"Not as good as if you'd been here, but I do think I found something related to Margaret Brown's letter. I'll share it with everyone in the morning."

"That sounds promising. So, I will see you in the morning, maybe early?"

A shiver ran down Shane's spine, remembering what had transpired that morning when they both arrived early at the DLO. "I'll be there."

"Good night, Shane," his voice washed over her with a gentle softness that soothed the ache of his absence that had lingered throughout the evening.

"Good night, Oliver."