Chapter 14
Chandler
I watched as Gabriella stormed out of her office, leaving her father sitting with his back turned toward the open doorway.
I didn’t know he would be here today, or that there would be an impromptu meeting between the two.
Otherwise, I would have thwarted it. I clenched my jaw, thinking about what the hell they could have talked about.
Clearly, it hadn’t gone well, or Gabriella wouldn’t have that pissed-off look on her face.
I smiled smugly to myself. Whatever she had been up to clearly hadn’t worked.
Poor, little rich girl didn’t get what she wanted from daddy.
“Uh, Gabriella had a prior engagement. I’m sure she will be back later,” said Mr. Harold, walking up behind me. He must have noticed where I was looking.
“Right. I can handle myself,” I said, clearing my throat. A subtle nudge that I didn’t need a handler, especially in the form of his bristly daughter.
“I’m sure you can.” He placed his hand on my shoulder with a chuckle.
I wasn’t sure I liked the laugh that accompanied his vote of confidence in me, as if he wasn’t fully convinced. What more did I have to prove to this man? I could do the damn job he hired me for without being supervised. I swallowed my annoyance down and gave him a wide grin.
“Back to work,” I said, gesturing toward my office.
“That’s a good man.” He nodded before heading for the elevator.
But I couldn’t work. My mind kept going over the possible conversations that may have played out in Gabriella’s office.
Had she told him about us? It was highly doubtful.
I wouldn’t have a job anymore if he found out I had been buried deep inside her daughter, making her scream, when he was in the same building.
My cock twitched against the fabric of my pants, but I willed the thoughts away.
Whatever they talked about, I was still in charge. Unfortunately for her.
Gabriella did end up coming back to the office shortly after lunchtime, and we were back to our game of avoiding each other, even though we had to work together.
We were a day in, but we were proving that it was possible to get things done, even without being face-to-face.
I didn’t have to see her sour expression, and she didn’t have to deal with my “asshole” demeanor, as she so blatantly expressed.
I would be lying if I said I didn’t sneak a few glances in her direction when she wasn’t looking.
If the eye candy was there, it would be stupid to pass up on getting a look.
She was in something more modest than yesterday’s dress that had my eyes nearly popping out of my head.
Instead, she wore a light gray pantsuit, but she could somehow make suit pants look sexy.
It was irritating how fuckable she looked in whatever she chose.
I shut my eyes firmly before opening to focus on my computer screen.
Focus.
It was nearing 5 p.m. Almost time to get the hell out of here and away from her. I picked up my phone and scrolled through my contacts, landing on my best friend, Wyatt.
Me: Basketball tonight?
Wyatt: Hell yeah. 6?
Me: I’ll meet you at the gym.
I locked my phone and slipped it into my jacket pocket. This was perfect. I could use a little game of pickup to release some of my stress and annoying sexual tension.
I decided to cut out early. I was done with everything anyway. Leaving twenty minutes early wouldn’t hurt anyone, though I was sure Gabriella was keeping tabs on me. And not in the way that she liked me, but in a way that she was seeking to destroy me any chance she got.
I was able to slip out undetected by her and headed home to change for the gym. I figured I could get in some weights before Wyatt arrived for our game. At my apartment, I changed into black basketball shorts and a white, loose-fitting tee, before walking down the block to Equinox.
The place was just starting to bustle with the after-work crowd as I made my way to the weight rack.
Selecting a pair of weights, I began my set of shoulder exercises.
By the end of the first few sets, my brow was damp with sweat and I had already forgotten about the meeting between Gabriella and her father. I had forgotten about her completely.
But then my phone pinged and there she was. I rolled my eyes as I swiped up at the screen.
Bitchzilla: You left early. You had a contract to sign.
Me: There’s such a thing as DocuSign. Send it.
Bitchzilla: Do I need to remind you of your contract hours?
Me: And what about you of yours? I didn’t realize you could take a three-hour lunch at 9:30 AM.
Bitchzilla: I didn’t realize you were keeping tabs on me.
Me: I could say the same.
I watched as the three dots bounced on the screen as she was most likely thinking up a snarky retort. But she must have changed her mind because her text came through a minute later.
Bitchzilla: Sign the contract. Tonight.
I locked my phone and tossed it on the bench before picking up the weights again and letting my annoyance fuel my next few sets.
Who was she to boss me around? She seemed to be forgetting what her position was.
After rage lifting, I headed up the stairs to the gym where I found Wyatt tying his shoes just behind the basket across the court.
He looked up and spotted me, giving me a nod.
I had known Wyatt since college. We met one drunken night in the dorms our freshman year.
He had gotten locked out of his room, and I found him singing our college fight song as he sat slumped against his door.
Drunk myself, I joined him, pissing off everyone else on the floor who was knee-deep in studying for midterms.
We were idiots. Thankfully, we eventually got our shit together and focused on our studies.
Me in business. Him in tech. We went on to graduate and venture out into the world.
He owned a successful software company, but no one would ever know based on his laid-back attitude.
You’d think he was a surfer dude from California.
I liked that about him. He kept me grounded when I got too wound up in business and money.
“What’s up, man?” he asked as he got to his feet and gave me a slap on the back.
“Just working as usual,” I said, my tone less than enthusiastic.
“Uh-oh.” He eyed me. “I thought this CEO job was finally going to make you happy.”
“I am, I am.” I waved him off, and picked up a basketball from a nearby rack.
“Mhmm…just like you. Never satisfied,” he said knowingly.
The ball bounced against the glossy hardwood floor, echoing through the large gymnasium.
I pressed my fingertips against the raised bumps and dribbled around the court, Wyatt watching me with a sly expression, waiting for my next move.
I charged toward him, turning just as I was about to slam into him, and continued toward the net for a layup.
He whistled. “Someone’s on their game tonight.”
I grunted, swiftly passing him the ball and crouching into a defensive position.
He dribbled the ball slowly, assessing what move to make.
He veered to the right, then to the left, but I was too quick for him.
I stole the ball and went in for another layup.
He gave me a vulgar gesture before clapping his hands for the ball.
The game went on like that for the next twenty minutes, until we were both panting and needing a break. We strode toward our gym bags against the back wall and slumped to the ground, reaching for our water bottles. I chugged for a good few seconds, wiping the sweat that was slick against my brow.
“You’re on one today,” he muttered, running a hand through his damp, sandy blond hair. “What’s going on?”
“Can’t I just be good at kicking your ass?” I shrugged.
“You’re hardly kicking my ass.”
“Have you checked the score?”
“I didn’t realize you were keeping count.”
“Always.”
He rolled his eyes before looking at me seriously. “Nah. What’s really going on?”
I tilted my head back, knowing there was no getting out of this with the guy who had known me well for nearly twenty years. I looked up at the rafters before blowing out a long breath through my closed lips.
“Just work shit. Mr. Harold, the old CEO, seems to think his new CEO needs a babysitter, and she happens to be his daughter.”
“No shit?” Wyatt’s eyes grew wide.
“Yeah, and she’s a real piece of work. So entitled and bossy. I’m not sure how we are ever going to get along when she has a stick so far up her ass.”
I went on to tell him everything that had been going on, but I conveniently left out the part that we had sex. That was something I wanted to keep to myself for now.
Wyatt smirked at me, as if seeing right through me. He didn’t have to know about the sex to know what was really going on here.
“She’s hot, isn’t she?”
“No,” I said, failing completely at lying.
“Dude. You’re so full of shit.” He punched my shoulder.
I rolled my eyes and took another swig of water.
“You don’t understand. She’s insufferable.”
“Uh-huh,” he said unconvinced.
“I’m serious. She’s out to get me. I feel like she’s keeping tabs on every little thing I do to go report back to daddy.”
“Why don’t you just fire her then?” he suggested with a raised brow.
“I can’t.” I shook my head.
“Why not? If she’s as bad as you say she is…”
“She’s the boss’s daughter.”
Though that didn’t stop me from fucking her.
“It would be a slap in the face to him if I gave her the axe,” I continued. “Plus, she’s good at her job. Annoying as that is. Though, I would never admit that to her.”
“She’s really gotten under your skin, huh?” Wyatt said, his blue eyes looking at me with amusement.
“It’s not like that,” I snapped a little too quickly, giving me away.
“Whatever you say.” Wyatt put his hands up in defense.
I looked across the gym at another game of basketball that had started up, lost in thought.
“It would be smart to keep her on for at least a year,” I mused, more to myself than to my friend. “It would give me enough time to get established as CEO, gain Mr. Harold’s trust completely, and then I could fire her without feeling bad about it. People get fired all the time.”
“You think you can last a year?” asked Wyatt, and I wasn’t sure if he meant me as CEO or not getting involved with her.
“Easily,” I said, mustering up confidence. “Hell, she may not even last that long. I can make her life hell, just like she’s doing to me. Maybe she’ll quit. A man can dream, right?” I shrugged before looking back to Wyatt.
“Mhmm,” he said before reaching for the basketball at his side. He tossed it in the air and caught it.
“Let’s get back to it,” he said, nodding toward the court. “Seems like you need to get more of that aggression—or is it sexual tension?—out.”
Annoyed, I grabbed the ball from him and ran to the court, tossing up a three-pointer as a silent fuck you.