Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
LEAH
I rest my hands on the edge of the desk and hang my head. Closing my eyes, I let out a shuddering sigh.
“Shit!”
Tonight was supposed to be a new start, a fun night out with the girls. A pounding starts behind my eyes, and I pinch the bridge of my nose. Damn Vince and his bombshell. Why tonight? Eight years of cultivating a professional persona in a male-dominated office, and boom. In a few hours, I become that whimpering, emotional woman. Not to mention the makeup disaster. I was shocked when I walked into the ladies’ room, the streaks of black mascara and eyeliner coating my cheeks. I looked like something from a horror movie. Clearly, there should be a warning with make-up tutorials.
Sexy, smoky eyes-amazing. Avoid like the plague if likely to be caught in emotional dramas with your ex.
A shudder wracks my body. How did Gabriel keep a straight face? What the hell must he be thinking? I bite my lip to suppress a groan. He’s still here... waiting for me. I can’t even curl up in my heartbreak and wallow!
I disconnect my laptop and stuff it into my bag. I’ve already screwed up my dress and dumped it in my holdall. That can go to a charity shop on Monday, along with the heels. It will be too soon if I never see either of them again.
My phone flashes with several missed calls and messages. I stuff it in my bag. I’ll deal with those at home. I need to get out of here before the thin thread I’m dangling from snaps and plummets me into a free fall.
Leaving my office, I make my way across the floor, past the team’s desk cubicles.
Gabriel looks up from his desk as I knock on his open door.
“Ready?” he asks, his voice casual, offering no hint of the breakdown he just witnessed.
I move towards the window and stare out over the city. The lights give a surreal aura. “It’s a beautiful view.”
“During the long winter mornings, the lights reflect off the other buildings. In the summer, it’s the sun,” he says. I jump as Gabriel appears next to me. “Are you ready?” he asks.
When I nod, he turns away and grabs his laptop bag.
“I’m sorry,” I say, breaking the silence as we walk to the elevator.
“What for?”
I want to laugh at the confused look on his face.
“Ruining your evening with your brother.”
My stomach sinks when I realise it’s not only Gabriel who witnessed my monumental downfall.
Gabriel huffs. “Saved me more like,” he says, and I notice his lips twitch, but he holds back on a smile.
“Well, I’m sorry. What happened was totally unprofessional.” I baulk at the last words out of my mouth, shocked when Gabriel turns to face me .
“Tonight, from what I understand, was not your fault. We can control our own actions, but not those of others.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes for a second. “You have nothing to apologise for. I didn’t hear you raise your voice, smash a glass or scream abuse. From what you’ve told me, it was not the time or place for that discussion. It should be Vince and his girlfriend offering an apology.”
I hold my jaw in place. That’s probably the longest sentence, not work-related, I’ve ever heard Gabriel give.
The ding of the elevator saves me. Gabriel stands back and lets me enter before following and pushing the button for the car park.
The doors open into the basement. The fluorescent lighting illuminates the parking bays and concrete blocks that support the twenty-five floors above us. This space is usually full of beautiful, expensive cars, but this evening, it’s empty.
A movement at the far side of the car park reveals one of the building’s many security guards. He waves over before continuing his sweep. I follow Gabriel over to his parking spot. My pulse speeds up, and I stop still, my eyes taking in the beautiful car in front of me. I’ve heard Caleb ribbing his brother about his car and seen a picture, but up close... It has a sporty, low-slung front, sleek headlights, and glistening ruby-red paintwork. It’s a thing of immense beauty. If falling in love with an inanimate object was possible, the Alfa-Romeo 33 Stradale would be the one.
If Gabriel notices my drooling, he says nothing. Instead, he takes my holdall and clicks a button that opens the butterfly doors. I hold my breath as they rise like wings, exposing the stunning leather and aluminium interior.
“It’s okay. I only had half a glass of wine. I’m safe to drive,” Gabriel says suddenly .
In all honesty, it was not something I’d thought about. Instead of replying, I step forward, lowering myself into the passenger seat. Once I’m settled, Gabriel lowers the door, which closes with a gentle click. The faint aroma of leather invades my senses. I look in the mirror as the back raises like the doors. Gabriel drops our belongings inside. Once he’s done, he makes his way to the driver’s side, sliding into the bucket seat with ease and experience. His trousers draw tight across his thighs. The muscles flex as he positions himself to drive. His door closes, encasing us in luxury.
The fact he settled me into the car first shouldn’t surprise me. He may be a billionaire, but his manners are impeccable.
Dragged up right , my mum would say.
I think it’s more the case of raised correctly .
It’s unlikely that there was much dragging up in the Frazer household.
I watch him out of the corner of my eye, his powerful hands confidently moving over the controls. It’s clear he loves his car. The deep growl of the engine echoes around the car park, bringing a smile to my face. The movement catches Gabriel’s attention because he turns to look at me.
“What? Can’t a girl appreciate the start of a beautiful car?”
I shrug, grinning.
Gabriel returns my grin. The shock of it steals my breath. This is undoubtedly his favourite toy.
He nods and returns his attention to the car, putting it in gear and driving us towards the exit. The car’s throaty roar bounces off the walls until we finally make it past the barrier and onto the street.
We travel in silence. I stare out the window before my eyes are drawn to the panoramic windows built into the roof. Their design showcases the buildings we’re passing. I’m acutely aware of Gabriel as he manoeuvres this powerful machine through the city streets. My eyes lock on his hands as they grip the steering wheel. It’s the first time in eight years, I’ve noticed how beautiful his hands are. His long, strong fingers and smooth skin, the way the muscles contract every time he moves. I turn once more to look out of the window before he catches my freakish behaviour.
What’s wrong with me tonight?
I’m going to put it down to shock.
Gabriel pulls up outside my apartment building in record time. The lights from the reception area welcome me home. I can see Billy, our night security guard, at his desk. My heart constricts. I’ll miss this luxury as a single woman living in the city, knowing someone is downstairs twenty-four hours a day, protecting me while I sleep. But then, I’ve grown accustomed to being spoiled. At the end of the day, it’s Vince’s salary that has allowed all this. Now, I need to find my own normal.
“Thank you for the lift,” I say, but Gabriel is already out of the car. The door next to me lifts silently. Gabriel’s hand appears in the gap. I make a move to exit the car. It doesn’t take me long to realise there must be a technique for getting out. The bucket seat acting like a magnet for my ass. After failing three times, I accept the hand Gabriel offers. The strength in his fingers, as they clasp mine, sends shards of warmth and awareness down my arm.
“Thank you for the lift,” I say, my voice sounding a little rough.
I look up to find Gabriel trying to hide his smirk.
“It takes practice,” he adds, nodding towards the seat and door.
“Clearly,” I mutter. “A pregnant woman would need a hoist.”
A furrow appears between Gabriel’s brows, and I realise what I said. Yasmin’s announcement has had a profound effect on me. Gabriel says nothing. Instead, moving to retrieve my bags.
“Have a lovely weekend,” I say as he moves to get back into the car.
“Good luck with the apartment hunting tomorrow,” Gabriel replies, his brow still furrowed.
“Thank you,” I say. “For everything.”
“You’ve already said that,” he points out. His expression is neutral, before he lets out a mini-huff and adds, “You’re welcome.”
I want to smile as his awkwardness returns. Instead, I say, “I’ll see you on Monday.”
He nods before effortlessly sliding into the driver’s seat.
I walk to the entrance, and the automatic doors slide open. Billy looks up from his desk and smiles.
“Evening, Ms Walker. Welcome home,” he says.
“Evening, Billy. Have a good evening.”
I make my way to the elevator. My heart lurches as I step inside. Five weeks, and I’ll be gone. A crushing pain grips my chest, stealing my breath as I think of Yasmin, Vince, and the child they’re expecting. Yasmin will push a stroller into these lifts in the coming months. What was once our spare room, will become the nursery I always dreamed of.
My hands curl against the wall of the elevator as it ascends. I don’t have to wait long before I’m deposited outside the apartment. I open the door and kick off my shoes, making my way inside. The beautiful view stretches out in front of me. The lights of the city reflect off the water. I sink down onto the couch and close my eyes, unable to look at my surroundings—the place I’ve called home for eight years. But it’s not my home. It’s Vince’s, and now, it will be Yasmin and their baby’s.
I bite my lip hard to stifle the sob that threatens to escape. I’ve cried enough tonight, and that just isn’t me. It’s time to face the truth. My life here is over. I’m about to begin a new chapter. What that will look like is anyone’s guess. But crying over what might have been , helps no one.
I pick up my phone and see the dozens of messages from Stella, Nat, and Vince. I fire off a reply to Stella and Nat in our group chat.
ME:
I’m home safe, sorry to worry you.
STELLA:
Thank God. How are you doing?
NAT:
Hugs babes
ME:
I’m spent, both emotionally and physically. Can I call you in the morning?
STELLA:
Of course. Try to sleep. We love you. xxx
NAT:
Love you xxx
ME:
Love you guys too xxx I’ll call you tomorrow.
I swipe at my eyes as the screen blurs. No more tears, not tonight anyway. I can’t think, let alone speak to anyone. I drag the faux fur throw off the back of the sofa, wrapping myself in its comforting weight.
My phone lights up with an incoming call. Vince’s name appears. I send him straight to voicemail. It rings again, so I do the same. He’s the last person I want to speak to this evening. A baby? Of all the things he could have done or said, nothing could cut me deeper. After six attempts, he finally gives up. I switch off my phone and drop my head back against the sofa cushion.
Tomorrow is a new day.
I have appointments to look at some apartments. I have my friends, my health, and my job. I’m not a trader, but Gabriel pays me well. I’m an independent woman. I’ve got this.
I close my eyes and try to ignore the painful tightness in my throat and vice-like grip around my lungs, unable to shake the feeling my world is caving in.