Chapter 13
Savvy
Gabriel drops a sheet of paper onto the table where I’m trying to eat breakfast.
“What is this?”
“Those are the documents you need to duplicate. Customs declaration, certificate of origin, inspection certificate, and three container manifests.”
“This has an inventory of heavy construction machinery. What are you really shipping?”
Gabriel drops into the seat next to me, plucking a strawberry from my plate. “Does it matter?”
“I need to make sure I’m not helping you smuggle women into the country so you can sell them at one of your clubs. I don’t care what you threaten me with, I won’t do that.”
His brow pulls tight. “You think I traffic women?”
“I think it’s a disgusting but lucrative business, and like you said last night, you are a businessman.”
He leans into me, tucking my hair behind my ear. “If I tell you no, will you believe me?”
“Yes.” No matter what else he’s done, he hasn’t lied.
“You think I’m a man capable of trafficking women, but not lying?”
Fair point.
“So, I shouldn’t trust what you say then? Are you saying you are a liar?”
Score one for me.
He grins. “Between the two of us, I’m not the professional con artist.”
He has a point. It’s not a great one, seeing as he runs an illegal network of criminals right out in the open, but still a point. And he pulls ahead with another score.
I look at the list of heavy equipment over again. “So if you’re not trafficking women, what are you moving through the border?”
“Weapons, mostly. And I’m smuggling them out, not in. The documents are for ports around the world.”
“Like guns? You’re an arms dealer?”
“Among other things. I keep a diverse portfolio.” He steals the last strawberry from my plate, bringing the ripe berry to his lips.
My mouth waters as he wraps his full lips around the juicy berry and bites. His tongue appears for a brief moment, licking the juice before it has a chance to drip onto his freshly pressed black button down.
“Drugs?”
He raises his brow. “No. I stay away from drugs. Too much bloodshed in that business. My logistics company gives me a smokescreen for most things coming and going through this state and others, all the way to the seaside ports. Drugs would mean a different sort of distribution set up.”
“And you stick to easy money?” It’s meant as a shot, but it comes out as a tease.
“There’s no such thing as easy money when there’s this many moving parts. It’s why it takes a whole army to keep things running smoothly.”
“And that’s what Roman is for?”
He nods. “My brother has his work just like I do, and our cousin, Lucian, has his part. The three of us together keep our family at the top.”
“And your men are your little worker bees?”
His face hardens. “Our men share the risks and the rewards of our businesses, but they understand their place.”
“And now that I’m working for you, I should get to know my place, too?
” There it is again, the little flirtatious tilt.
I clear my throat, needing to get it together.
He’s infuriating, I need to remember how infuriating he is, even when he’s sitting so casually with me, acting like we’re friends instead of the enemies we should be.
“Your place is where I say it is,” he says firmly. “You’ll have those documents done by tonight.”
It takes a beat for the change in subject to register.
“What? Tonight, you want all of this by the end of the day? I need a little more time. There’s a seal that goes on the customs declaration I might not have.
I’ll have to check it against the countries you have listed here.
” There’s one country I’ve never even heard of before listed, so I can be sure I don’t have anything that will mimic what they put on their customs paperwork.
“Tonight, eight o’clock. You’ll get it done,” he says confidently. “But first, I want to show you something, come on.” He helps me from my chair, sliding his hand into mine as he walks me from the kitchen and down another hallway.
I haven’t taken the time to explore the house or the grounds, so I have no idea where he’s taking me. Other than his office and a formal living and dining room on the first floor, I have no idea what else is on this level.
We walk down a hallway with floor-to-ceiling windows as the exterior wall. It looks out over the back yard. A pool. It’s been drained and cleaned for the upcoming winter. The pool chairs are neatly stacked near a smaller building just outside the gates surrounding the pool.
“You have a pool house? I could be staying there.”
“You’re exactly where I want you to be.” He squeezes my hand.
There’s no reason for it, but a warm current runs through me. Maybe it’s the soft way he said it, or how he keeps holding my hand as we walk through more hallways.
Or I’m delusional.
A part of me hopes it’s the last one. Because maybe there’s a chance I’ll snap out of it and remember what a ruthless, arrogant prick Gabriel is.
Then he ruins everything, and all my hope of finding my brain is dashed with one opened door.
“Here you go.” He pushes the double doors open and steps out of my way so I can step inside.
It’s my apartment. Well, most of it. All of my books are lined up neatly on the shelves. A plush loveseat faces an electric fireplace with a flat screen television mounted above it.
“You made a mini version of my apartment.” I run my fingers over the broken spines of my favorite fantasy series.
“You need a place that’s all yours. This is it. If you want to paint the walls, go ahead; if you want to change out the loveseat, just use the black card I gave you.” He picks up a book from the side table, his eyebrow raising at the character art on the first page.
I pluck it from him and place it on the bookcase. “You wouldn’t like that one.”
“Oh, I don’t know. That position looked like something we should try.” He slides his hands into his front pockets.
It’s disarming, the casual way he stands here. Like we’re just a normal couple chatting about the plans we have for the day.
“About that. Last night…I don’t think we should do that anymore.”
He folds his arms over his chest. “Why not?” He tilts his head, like he’s genuinely curious.
“I think it’s best if we keep things…professional. You said I work for you now, right? That makes you my boss—in the business sense only—so we should keep things like that. I’m the employee.”
“Doesn’t the employee have to do whatever the boss says? If I said, take off those jeans and bend over the couch, you’d have to do it, right?”
“No, that would be sexual harassment.” I try to laugh it off, as though we’re just two people chatting.
“Hmm. Unfortunately, we don’t have an HR department.”
“You’re missing the point on purpose.”
“I am.” He agrees and cups my chin. “Documents by eight. If you need anything to get it done, text me. I put my number in your phone.”
“You’re leaving?”
He nods. “I have to go into the office.” He makes a face like he’d rather have nails pushed beneath his fingernails.
“When I’m done, do I send them somewhere or just keep them for when you get back?”
“You’ll bring them with you tonight.”
“Where am I going?”
“We’re going out. I’m meeting with some people who need them; you’ll bring them to me.” He drops a kiss to my cheek, then brushes his lips across mine in a teasing touch. “I have to go. Get to work, employee.”
* * *
“Gabriel said to wait in the car, he’ll be here in a minute to pick you up.” Damien, my driver for the evening, says when I reach for the door handle.
“You can’t just sit here. It’s not a parking spot.” I look out the back window of the black SUV at the line of cars waiting to make their drop off in front of the Navy Pier entrance. “You’re blocking everyone.”
He opens his window, sticks his hand out and flicks his wrist. And the car behind us puts on his emergency blinkers.
“Now they will go around.”
“Wait, that car is with us?”
He looks at me through the rearview mirror. “Gabriel always has two vehicles with him at all times. Tonight he ordered a third. The one in front of us is circling around.”
“Three cars to drop me off at Navy Pier?” I sink back into the soft leather seats, gripping the manila envelope against my chest.
It’s taken all day, down to the last minute before I had to stop working and get into the shower in order to be on time, to get the documents Gabriel wanted. There’re two seals missing, but unless he gives me access to contacts he may have, there’s nothing I can do.
I deal more with identification forms, birth certificates, passports, that sort of thing for out-of-country documents. Shipping cargo manifests and customs reports for a third world country I couldn’t even find on the map until I zoomed the screen to three hundred percent are outside my wheelhouse.
“Here he comes.” Damien points toward the pier.
One of the dinner cruises must have just docked. There is a swarm of people suddenly, but as the crowd disperses toward the shops and restaurants and others toward the parking garage, Gabriel appears. He’s wearing a suit. A full suit with a long coat over it that billows behind him as he walks.
I could recognize his walk from a mile away.
Confident with the authority of Caesar walking into the Senate—before the whole killing him thing was even a consideration.
His hair is styled back away from his face.
I hate when men used too much hair product.
I want to be able to run my fingers through it, not get it stuck in a clump of goop.
But his hair moves freely with the subtle night’s breeze.
No goop to be found.
As he gets closer, the lighting hits his face. He’s shaved. Not cleanly, there’s still a light stubble on his rugged chin. It sharpens the angles of his cheekbones and jawline, making his usually brooding expression downright dangerous.
“Holy shit,” I whisper to myself as he approaches the car.
I’ve never seen a more beautiful man before. Well, except the one who had me bent over his loveseat last night. Gabriel just keeps outdoing himself.