Chapter 31
Gabriella
Pick up dry cleaning.
I rolled my eyes at my phone, reading Chandler’s demand.
Did he ever say please? I ignored his text, and got back to the email on my laptop.
I was posted up in my pajamas on my couch, my usual spot in my living room that was now my makeshift office.
I was on my second week of working from home and I was still loving it.
My refrigerator was full of snacks that I had been craving, from the predictable pickles to kiwis with the peel, which was a new one for me.
I got to lounge in comfortable, stretchy clothes all day.
While it was too early for a bump, I was so bloated that I may as well have been showing.
I didn’t want to wear anything besides my matching pajama sets.
The downfall was I still had to deal with Chandler, but it was a hell of a lot better than seeing him face-to-face in the office. My phone buzzed again, as if he could hear my thoughts. I picked up my phone and read his text.
Chandler: You still haven’t cleared my spam folder.
A few seconds later.
Chandler: Dry cleaning. Today. Drop it off at the front desk.
Me: What have I told you a million times? I’m not your errand girl.
Chandler: Bernice fucked it up last time.
Me: I wasn’t aware she washed and pressed your clothes.
Chandler: She picked up the wrong order. A hideous suit that was made for someone four times my size.
Me: Tragic. Get your own dry cleaning.
Chandler: You still work for me.
Like he would ever let me forget it.
Me: Goodbye. Contact me when you have a real job for me.
Chandler: Is what you’re doing even considered a job?
Me: Goodbye.
I tossed my phone on the coffee table, and it clattered next to the cup of peppermint tea I had made this morning that was now cold.
I sunk into the couch and crossed my arms, glaring at my phone.
Chandler was insufferable. I didn’t realize he could make me hate him even more just through texting, but he had special skills that he must have learned in his many years of asshole school.
A lot of people worked from home. It didn’t mean that I didn’t have a real job or that I wasn’t a valuable asset to the company.
If he really thought I was worthless, he sure texted and emailed me a lot over the smallest things.
He would be lost without me, though he would never admit it.
I wondered what he would do if my father hadn’t assigned me to help his sorry ass.
I pulled myself from the couch, grabbing my ceramic mug from the table and taking it to the kitchen.
I placed it in the microwave and hit the timer for thirty seconds.
As it reheated, I rummaged through my pantry for something crunchy.
I found a bag of honey mustard pretzels that would hit the spot.
As I munched on a few, I heard a knock at the door.
Confused, I swallowed the bite of sweet and spicy pretzels and walked toward the door.
I wasn’t expecting anybody. At first, I thought it might be Chandler coming here to chew me out, but there was no way he would have gotten here that fast. Nor did I think he wanted to be within a three-block radius of me.
He had made that abundantly clear at our run in at the office.
The knock sounded again.
“Just a second,” I said, annoyed by this visitor’s impatience.
I looked through the peephole and sucked in a breath when I saw my father standing on the other side of the door.
“What the hell?” I whispered to myself, my nerves taking over.
My hand shook as I reached for the door, regretting my choice of rubber ducky pajamas as today’s “office” attire.
I opened the door and gripped it tightly as I looked at my father standing there in one of his best suits.
He looked tired, his wrinkles deeper and his hair whiter.
My heart swelled slightly at the sight of him, realizing just how much time was a thief.
“Hey, Dad…” I said, the words sounding like a question.
His lips remained pressed into a hard line as he looked me over, noting the pink pajamas with yellow ducks plastered over them.
His brow raised a tick, and just that tiny expression was full of judgment.
Could I blame him? I was supposed to be a professional and I looked like this on the job.
I reached up and nervously tucked a strand of unbrushed hair behind my ear, as if that would help me.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, not yet pushing the door open to let him inside.
“That’s how you greet your father?” he asked. “I’ve been trying to reach you for days, Gabriella. What the hell?”
I swallowed hard. He was pissed. I had been avoiding him, leaving his texts on read and not returning his voicemails.
There had been several of both, each becoming more adamant than the next.
I wasn’t trying to worry him. I just didn’t know how to face him with everything going on, but here he was, not giving me a choice.
Honestly, I was surprised he hadn’t shown up sooner.
“Sorry, I… er… come in,” I said, pushing the door open and stepping aside. He walked swiftly past me and looked around my apartment as if he was looking for something. His eyes settled on the coffee table that housed my laptop and paperwork.
“Well, it’s nice to know you’re working,” he said curtly.
“Of course I am,” I said defensively.
“My question is, why are you working here?” he asked, his arms wide as he did a slow circle in the living room.
“I thought I would try out the whole work from home thing. Working remotely is the norm now, you know,” I said innocently.
“Not at Harold Enterprises, it’s not,” he snapped, his eyes looking sharply at me.
“Dad, times have changed…” I said with a shrug, making my way to the kitchen to get out of this awkward conversation temporarily. “You should know that better than anyone,” I added.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You stepped down. Hired someone new. Young.”
Someone that wasn’t me.
I opened the microwave and pulled out the mug of tea, blowing on the steam that raised toward my face. My father was pacing my living room still, his usual move when there was something on his mind. From the look on his face, it didn’t look like something good.
“Tea?” I called from the kitchen, holding up my mug, trying to use it as some sort of peace offering.
He shook his head and continued pacing. I approached him cautiously.
“Look, I’m sorry I haven’t called you back,” I said before taking a sip of tea, the mint soothing its way down my throat as I looked at my father warily. “I got sick last week and found I liked it better working from home.”
“Is that when you left the charity golf event?” he asked, raising a brow, only pausing his pacing a moment to look at me.
“Yes,” I said softly.
“I needed you there, Gabriella,” he said firmly.
I bit back my annoyance at the fact that he hired someone else to take his place, not me. If he wanted something done a certain way, he knew where to find me.
“Chandler had it handled,” I said coolly.
He sighed frustratedly.
“Tell me it isn’t true,” he said, turning to face me, a look of pure fear on his face.
My stomach sunk and dread filled my entire body as I tried to figure out what he meant, hoping it wasn’t what I feared it was. The one thing I had been keeping from him, from really everybody. The one thing I knew would disappoint him and destroy me.
Please. Let it be anything else.
“Wh-what are you talking about?” I asked, trying to keep the shakiness from my voice.
“That you two haven’t been sleeping around the office like a couple of irresponsible teenagers thinking you could get away with it,” he said, disgust dripping in his voice. “That you aren’t pregnant with that man’s baby.”
As his words hit me, I thought my legs were going to give out on me.
My apartment seemed to have turned on its axis, everything blurring out, except for the look on my father’s face.
I had never seen anything like it before, and I would never forget it.
I would never forgive myself for being the one to put it there.
I clutched my mug of tea tightly as if that would steady me, and looked at the floor, unable to look at him any longer. His stare still bored into me as he waited for my answer. An answer that I was terrified to give.
“Gabriella,” he said, his voice cracking, and making my heart crack.
I finally looked up at him with tears in my eyes. I hated showing weakness in front of him, but there was no holding back the salty streams running down my cheeks.
“How did you find out?” I managed to whisper.
He sucked in a breath as his eyes fell to my stomach, even though it was swimming in stupid rubber duckies. He sunk into the couch behind him and put his head in his hands, shaking it slightly as he stared at the ground. I hesitated before going to sit beside him, the silence between us deafening.
“Dad…” I said, reaching for his hand, but he pulled it away.
“A board member overheard your conversation at the golf event…”
Shit.
“He called me this morning to congratulate me on becoming a grandfather.”
Shit.
“So, it’s true…” he said, looking up at me.
I could only nod.
He stood from the couch abruptly.
“I didn’t mean for it to happen!” I said, standing up after him, my voice pleading. “You have to understand…”
“Understand what? That my daughter decided to humiliate me by sleeping with my replacement?” he asked, his face turning red as his voice rose to a level I hadn’t heard since I was maybe a teenager.
“It didn’t mean anything!” I said.
“Oh, and that is supposed to make me feel better?” he snarled.
“No, I just…I don’t know…I messed up, Dad.”
“You sure as hell did. I thought I knew you, Gabriella. Now, I hardly feel like I recognize you. Hell, I can’t even look at you. God, what will your mother think? Thank God she’s out of town.” He shook his head, turning his gaze to the wall behind me.
I thought his disappointment might destroy me right then and there, and I would melt into the hardwood floor in a pool of nothing.
“You will never be CEO,” he said almost in a whisper, and I swore he was on the verge of tears. “I can never trust you after this.”
I already knew if my father ever found out that it would come to this, like I even had a chance at it anyway. But what about Chandler? I hated that I thought about him in this moment. Hated myself even more for the words that tumbled out of me.
“What does this mean for Chandler?”
My father looked at me sharply, like he couldn’t believe I was even asking. I could hardly believe it myself.
“The asshole who knocked you up?” he scoffed.
I bristled slightly.
“As of this moment, you’re fired, so what happens to him is no concern of yours.”
“F-fired?” I asked.
“I don’t want you anywhere near my company. You’ve humiliated me enough. I don’t need you tarnishing my legacy with your… mistake.”
He looked me up and down with utter disbelief before turning toward the door and leaving, slamming it behind him as I fell to the floor in pieces.