Chapter 6
GABBY
Two weeks later…
“I’m officially worried about you, Gabs. You look like you’re in a crypto death cult or something.”
My best friend, Angie Manning, is seated across from me at Le James, the coffee shop down the block from work, where we so often find ourselves commiserating with each other over lattes.
She’s a marketing analyst by trade and professional meddler by temperament. Best of all, she works a floor below me at AngelCorp. Angie’s the kind of friend who keeps you sane by refusing to take your insanity too seriously.
I roll my eyes in frustration, sinking deeper into my leather chair. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re sitting there with all the calm of a woman who’s not single-handedly saving the company.”
“Hey, I save the company in my own way. What good is a logistics empire if there are no customers?” She leans forward. “And come on, you have to know he’s just saying that.”
“Just saying what?”
“All that stuff about how everything’s riding on you, how AngelCorp might not make it unless your report is 100 percent perfect, all that crap.”
“What, you think he’s pranking me or something? Or just trying to make me feel more pressure?”
“No. I mean, listen, don’t get me wrong—you’re brilliant as shit, totally capable of handling a merger like this.
But it’s Sasha. This is just his way of putting the screws to you, trying to get the best possible performance out of you.
I bet, in his eyes, it’s like putting tons of pressure on a piece of coal to form a diamond. ”
“Form a diamond or make me go insane and quit and move to a convent in the mountains. One or the other.”
She shrugs and grins a bit. “Hey, you’re the one who decided to be a numbers queen.”
“You got me there.” I take a sip, and she watches me carefully. “What’s with the evil eye?”
“It’s a curious eye. Just wondering why you’re suddenly on a decaf kick.”
I haven’t told Angie yet, and I feel like a total piece of crap for keeping the fact that I’m pregnant from my best friend.
But now’s not the time. I still haven’t quite figured out what I’m going to do about Sasha, so I’ve just kept it to myself.
It hasn’t been easy, and I’ve felt more alone than I ever have before.
“Just not feeling like spazzing out in the middle of the coffee shop with a caffeine overdose. I’ve been basically mainlining espresso since Sasha put me on this thing.”
“Understandable. Well, I was going to ask you about your dating life. But something tells me there’s only room for one man in your life these days.
” She glances up and over my shoulder. The AngelCorp tower is visible in the distance, and I can even spot the windows of Sasha’s top-floor office from where I’m seated.
It’s like there’s no getting away from the guy.
“And you’d be right about that. How about you? How’s Hinge life?’
“The less said, the better. But it’s sure as hell preferable to wading through finance bros. No offense.”
“Oh, none taken in the slightest. Speaking of finance bros, whatever happened to that one you were seeing who lived in Logan Park? The one with the Ethereum tattoo on his wrist? That still a thing?”
Angie makes a face of total disgust. “Not even a little. And first of all, he said that was temporary ink—got it at a launch party or something. And second, that’s ancient history. We don’t talk about temporary tattoo guy.”
I smirk into my latte. “Uh-huh, until the next one, that is.”
“Bold of you to assume you’ll get to meet the next one,” she says with a smirk, flipping her hair back. “Not to mention that this guy was, like, five months ago. You’re so out of the loop.”
“Sorry, time flies when you’re the personal whipping girl of the CEO.”
“God, no kidding. You’ve been practically living there. Does he at least let you out at night? Or are you living in a storage closet?”
I groan. “Don’t get me started. I’ve been chained to this merger for weeks. If I so much as think about anything non-merger-related around Sasha, it’s like he knows and shoots me a total death stare.”
“The big guy’s still terrifying as ever?”
“Always. But…” I hesitate. I haven’t told Angie about what happened between Sasha and me. Telling her would lead to telling her the other news, and that’s too much to dump on her during our first hang in a while. But I can’t keep her totally in the dark.
“But what?”
“It’s weird. You remember how I had to lay down the law for him a month or so ago when this project started?”
“Sure do.”
“Well, he actually backed off. He’s giving me space, letting me work without breathing down my neck, asking for updates every two seconds.”
She raises an eyebrow. “He’s letting you exercise independence? Our little Sasha?”
“Believe it or not, yeah. And it’s nice, like he actually trusts me.”
A mischievous glint forms in her eye. “Or he’s just so busy with his mob stuff these days that he doesn’t have the time to hover over you.”
“His mob stuff?”
One of the biggest rumors at AngelCorp is that Sasha is associated with the Russian mob. No one knows for sure, but I wouldn’t doubt for a second that a man like him has been into some shady stuff.
“Come on, you really believe all that?”
She shrugs. “You’ve seen him. He’s got mob enforcer written all over him.
And those mysterious meetings he’s always having…
” Her eyes flash. “And you know what? I bet his whole thing about getting Dandelion is so he has some more actual legitimate business to throw the FBI off the scent. Like, ‘oh, ignore me, agents, I’m just a humble Russian logistics kingpin looking to get into tech, don’t pay attention to me… ’”
“Honestly, you’re starting to sound like a conspiracy theorist. He’s so busy with AngelCorp that I have no idea when he’d even find the time to hang out with mobsters or whoever.”
“I bet if you patted him down, you’d find a gun strapped to his thigh. Give it a try, next time you see him.” She winks, making it clear she’s thinking about this little scenario in the tawdriest way imaginable.
“Angie! Come on.”
“What? You don’t think he’s hot? I mean, sure, he’s got a couple of decades on us, but he’s total silver-fox material.”
“Just ignoring the fact that he’s old enough to be our dad?”
What the hell is wrong with me? I’m making a case against him, like I didn’t just get knocked up by the man.
“Age gaps can be hot. And trust me, when you’ve spent as much time in the trenches with performative, flakey guys our age, you start to crave something a little more mature. Speaking of which…”
“What?”
She’s grinning again, and I know what that means.
“Wait, are you seeing someone?”
She nods. “Yep. And I have to admit I’m a little crazy about him.”
“Who is he?”
She arches her eyebrow. “Oh, now you’re all about the tea? Was starting to think you considered yourself too good for that, my dear.”
“Well, I’m not anti-tea. Who is he?”
“Not ready to name names. But he’s rich, successful, and a little older. Not Sasha older, but enough to inject some desperately needed maturity into my life.”
“You’re practically glowing, Ange. Is this guy, like, future husband material?”
A shrug, totally noncommittal. “I don’t know. Maybe. We’ll see what the future holds. But for now, well, I’m happy.”
I reach across the table and squeeze her hand, loving the radiant smile on her face. “I’m glad. You deserve it. Seriously.”
“Thanks, Gab. And don’t worry, I won’t keep you in the dark for too long. If this guy seems like the real deal, you’ll meet him.”
“Looking forward to it.”
She raises her mug to her lips and takes a sip, looking dreamily, happily out the window. I can’t deny it—she looks content. But who is he? Rich and successful? And she’s being secretive about it. Maybe I know him?
I sip my drink and force a smile. I’m genuinely happy for Angie. But keeping this secret—these secrets—from her hurts. I don’t like lying.
Just get through the merger, and you can spill. Just hold out a little longer.
Telling Angie will make it all real. And I’m not sure I’m ready for “real” with everything going on.
She checks her watch. “Shit, I forgot about my meeting. Want me to walk you back to the office?”
“I’m good, thanks. Gonna squeeze every last second out of this break.”
She cocks her head to the side, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. “Are you sure you don’t have anything you want to talk to me about? Come on, Gab—I know I’m being sketchy with my mystery man, but we usually tell each other everything.”
Part of me wants to spill right then and there, but the bigger part of me wants to keep it buried for a little while longer.
“Nah, just boring work stuff. I’ll see you later, OK?”
“Sure. See you back there.”
We hug, and she’s on her way. I can only sit still for a little while longer before the itch starts. I throw back the rest of my latte and head out, pulling my coat and scarf tight against cold winter wind that smacks me in the face as soon as I step outside.
I stand outside the coffee shop for a moment, feeling lost in a way I haven’t since Mom died.
What’s going on with me? Maybe impending motherhood is making me think of all the ways that my own childhood didn’t quite hit the mark.
Mom was amazing, as wonderful a parent as anyone could ask for. But the foster years that followed…
Something prickles at the back of my neck as I stand there. I know that feeling—the sensation of being watched. I glance up at the AngelCorp tower, all glass and steel, wondering if Sasha has a telescope trained on me.
Nah, that’s not his style.
But someone’s looking.
I glance around, and sure enough, across the street, leaning against a lamp post like he’s part of the scenery, is Bogdan.
Bogdan—no idea if that’s his first name or last name or what—is Sasha’s body man, the guy who gets him whatever he needs to go.
He’s part security, part assistant, and in this moment, part stalker.