Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Gabriel
Deus maldito .
God dammit.
It’s her.
I should have turned around when she came in the first time, then I’d have had an opportunity to prepare myself. But right now? At this moment? I’m frozen. The woman I haven’t stopped thinking about since the moment she drove away from me is here. And I’m her boss.
“Monica,” I stammer, staring at her. I see the recognition in her eyes moments before a look of terror, and pleading crosses them. I clear my throat and walk to her, holding out my hand in greeting. “I’m Gabriel. The new broker.”
Monica’s hand shakes slightly as she places her hand in mine.
“Hello,” she says softly .
“Please, take a seat,” I tell her before turning to go back to my laptop. I make myself look busy for a moment so I can school my expression and control my thoughts. I’m fucking cursed with women. Colorado Springs isn’t that big, but she had to work here? The city has at least five hundred thousand residents. Tons of real estate offices. Fucking hell.
I clear my throat again and shuffle papers around. I can’t remember what I planned for this meeting. An ice breaker, some question-and-answer stuff, basic shit. I can’t remember a damn thing. I just want to get Monica alone so I can talk to her. See if she’s okay. See if she hasn’t stopped thinking about the kiss as I have. Fuck.
My phone rings with a text, and I sigh with relief when I see it’s my mom asking me to call her.
“Everyone, I’m going to make this quick. I have something at home I need to deal with,” I say, looking up from my phone. I don’t miss a look of hurt crossing Monica’s face before she averts her eyes. Fuck. She thinks I have someone at home. “My mother needs my help with something. Probably a technical thing she and my pai can’t figure out.”
Everyone chuckles except for Monica. She’s as thrown as I am.
“I’ve been a realtor for a couple years after completing my time in the Army. I love this area and love what Meghan has done with this office. I don’t want to ruffle any feathers. I hope to continue her course with all of you. Please don’t hesitate to come to me with any questions or concerns,” I tell the realtors.
“What does pai mean?” a young blonde woman near the back asks with her hand raised.
“It means father in Portuguese.”
“Are you from Portugal?” she asks with a smile, and I hear Monica snort.
“No, Brazil.”
“How were you in the Army if you’re from Brazil? ”
“My parents came here when I was two. I’m an American citizen, but even if I weren’t, a non-citizen can be in the United States military as long as they’re a permanent resident,” I explain. “Any other questions?”
No one else raises a hand, so I end the meeting and look down at my phone quickly before looking back up. Monica has zipped out of the room before I can quietly ask her to stay.
“That was one hell of a quick introduction, Gabriel. I figured you’d make us sit through more than that,” Meghan says as she rests her hand on her protruding stomach.
“I need to go help my mama. I had thought about doing more team-building activities but figured y’all would love it if I didn’t,” I confess.
“Y’all?” Meghan comments with an eyebrow raised.
“Texas.”
“Oh, really? I didn’t know that. You should talk to Monica. She’s from Texas, too,” Meghan says. My breath must catch because her eyes narrow. “You two know each other?”
I’m at a loss for words. Meghan is technically not employed by Vivid Realty anymore, our parent company. I can’t decide if I should be honest or make something up.
“Gabriel, something obviously transpired between you two. I’ve never seen Monica so shuttered before. She’s typically the life of every meeting,” Meghan tells me.
“She came in here twenty minutes early, and I asked her to leave. I don’t think I came across well,” I admit. Meghan studies me before shaking her head.
“That’s not all, is there?”
“No.”
“Am I going to like this?”
“I’m not sure. Technically you don’t work here anymore, so …” I trail off.
“True. Then give me the gossip,” Meghan announces before grabbing a chair, sitting down, and slipping off her heels. “Don’t judge me. Wearing heels while pregnant should be illegal.”
I chuckle as I take a seat across from her. Fortunately, should anyone see us in the conference room, they’ll assume we are going over last-minute information before Meghan leaves.
“I technically met Monica last weekend. I had no idea she was employed here. That I would be her boss,” I tell Meghan.
“Okay,” she drawls. “What’s the big deal?”
“We may have … kissed. And I may have asked her to go home with me.”
“Holy shit! You slept with her?”
“No! She said no! And then her boyfriend showed up.”
“Fucking Marcus,” she snarls. “I hate that guy. Rubs me the wrong way.”
“Agreed.”
“So you met her and kissed her?”
“Yeah, but that makes it sound really bad. I approached Monica because her boyfriend had yelled at her, and I wanted to see if she was okay. I didn’t even think. I just kissed her,” I say quietly.
“Did she kiss you back?” Meghan asks, and I nod. “Okay, well, at least there shouldn’t be any kind of sexual harassment issue.”
“Fuck, I didn’t even think about that,” I mutter. “Could she even file harassment charges if we didn’t know the other would be employed here?”
“I doubt it would stick. Plus, the owners are pretty chill. They’d see both sides of the story and decide based on facts.” The owners are a married couple who reside in Florida. They lived here for a few years and then moved to Florida to open a second office. They come into town a couple times a year.
“I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable,” I tell Meghan .
“I don’t think she will. Monica is a really strong woman. She’s had a rough go of things, but she’s a great friend and an amazing realtor.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Is it serious with that Marcus guy?”
Meghan smiles.
“I don’t think so. You want to throw your hat in the ring?” she asks.
“I didn’t get a good vibe from him. I swear I know him from somewhere. I just can’t place it, and it’s bugging me,” I explain.
“I don’t get a good vibe from him either, and Mon let it slip once that none of her other friends like him either.”
“Do you know his last name?” I ask.
“No. And if I ask Monica, she’ll get defensive about it. That Italian blood gets the best of her sometimes.”
“A temper?”
“Not too bad. But she can jump to conclusions too quickly,” Meghan tells me. “Listen, I need to get going. I have an ultrasound across town.”
I stand and wait for Meghan to put her heels on before helping her to stand.
“When are you due?” I ask.
“Four weeks.”
“And when will you be getting the other baby?” I ask, wincing as I realize how uncouth that sounds. She giggles.
“In about three months, I think. It’s all just bureaucratic red tape at this point, unfortunately,” Meghan says. As she hits the doorway, she turns. “You have access to every personnel file, which includes phone numbers. You know, just in case.” And with that, Meghan winks at me and leaves the conference room.
Within ten minutes, I’m into Monica’s personnel file and have her phone number programmed into my phone. I forced myself to close the file without reading anything else. I can’t invade her privacy like that. I want Monica to tell me all about her life. I don’t want to read it. I want the words to come from her beautiful lips.
I head home and debate on texting Monica but manage to hold off. I need to take a deep dive into my own agenda: do I want to start a relationship with her or just clear the air? I’m not sure. Best if I wait for any communication between us once I know what I want.
I don’t see Monica all week. Realtors come and go from the office all the time, so it isn’t too out of the ordinary. It’s hard not to assume she’s avoiding me, but I know I’ll see her again at our weekly meeting.
When it comes time for the weekly meeting, I’ll admit that I’m actually a little nervous to see her again. I’ve been second-guessing my decision not to contact her all week, and I hope it doesn’t bite me in the ass.
As our meeting time comes and goes, I look around the room and see everyone present except for Monica.
“Monica isn’t coming,” a voice pipes up from the back. Chad? Charles? Shit. I can’t remember his name. “Said she wasn’t feeling well.”
I chuckle to myself. I know that wasn’t the reason. She is avoiding me.
“Alright, everyone, let’s get started then,” I say as I mentally push Monica to the back of my mind. “I wanted to gauge everyone’s interest in a team-building activity for one evening this month. I’d like to go into the mountains and have some fun. I found a ropes course we could do, then I figured we could cook out and enjoy a campfire. It will allow me to get to know all of you better.”
A couple of guys nod enthusiastically at me, but most of the women look less than thrilled with the idea.
“Would we have to stay out there? Like all night?” the blonde from the last meeting asks hesitantly. I chuckle.
“Not unless you want to. I own a cabin near the ropes course but don’t have space for more than me in the cabin. So anyone can bring a tent and camp on my property if they want.”
We handle all regular business aspects of the meeting before everyone heads out. I have a large pile of paperwork to complete and plan to work the remainder of the evening at the office. I have never enjoyed bringing work home. I want there to be a very obvious separation between work and home life. Even if it means I stay a few hours late at the office, I want my home to be my escape.
When my stomach growls, I head to the small in-office kitchen to scrounge up a snack. It’s after seven o’clock, but there’s a light on in a cubicle on the other side of the office. Assuming someone left it on, I head over to turn it off. As I look over the cubicle tops, I round the corner and plow into someone. I immediately jump into defensive mode, pushing the person away and crouching slightly, ready to fight.
“What the fuck?” an angry Monica shouts at me. Puta merda . I should have realized who it was just based on her height. As her eyes meet mine, she gasps and looks at the floor.
“I saw the light on,” I stammer.
“And you pushed me because …”
“I didn’t know it was you , obviously.”
“Not obviously. You’re lucky you didn’t hurt me, you giant.”
“I’m not a giant. You’re just pint-sized.”
Monica glares at me as she dramatically swipes at her pants as if she’s covered in dust. I take a moment to study her. She’s wearing black leggings and an oversized University of Oklahoma sweatshirt. Her hair is in a messy bun, and she isn’t wearing makeup. Pure and beautiful. She has a very small amount of freckles across her nose that I hadn’t noticed before.
“What are you even doing here this late?” she growls.
“Finishing up paperwork. What are you doing here this late?” I respond. Her face pales slightly as her mouth moves, but no words emerge. “You’re avoiding me, Monica.”
“No, I’m not. I’ve been busy. This is my first chance to come into the office.”
“Don’t lie to me, querida ,” I warn her. Her brow furrows, and I wince when I realize I’ve called her a pet name.
“What did you just call me?” she says, narrowing her eyes. I sigh and rub my beard.
“You heard me,” I say. Monica growls again. I called her querida the night we met. I know she remembers, and I bite my lip to keep from smiling. Monica is undoubtedly a spitfire.
“That’s completely inappropriate for work, Mr. Campos,” she says, and I roll my eyes.
“Regardless of what happened that weekend, there’s no need for that formality. You can call me Gabriel just like every other person that works here, Monica,” I tell her.
“I’d prefer Ms. Valducci,” she sneers.
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
“Fine.”
She turns and flounces away from me. I chuckle as I walk back to my office. I forgot to grab a snack, but I no longer want food. I’m hungry for something else. Something that would be much sweeter on my tongue. Something definitely forbidden.