Chapter 31
I hate how fast word spreads on this floor. One slip-up… one stupid mix-up with the documents, and suddenly the whole department is acting like I’ve personally derailed the company’s future. The message chain turned into a knot of complaints before I could even figure out what went wrong.
By the time Lincoln’s coworker flagged me down with a tight smile and a pointed “Hey, Gabby, you sent us the wrong information,” my stomach was already sinking. I tried retracing my steps, retracing my thoughts, retracing everything… but honestly? I still don’t know how I screwed it up.
So now I’m standing outside Tobias Voss’s office, my palms sweating like I’m about to be sentenced. Apparently, the CEO never calls couriers unless it’s serious, and judging by the email that summoned me, he’s not exactly eager to offer a warm welcome.
I knock lightly and step inside when he tells me to. Tobias is behind his massive desk, the kind of setup that makes you feel like you’re walking into a courtroom instead of a workspace.
His expression is unreadable, but not in a mysterious way, more like he’s deciding whether I’m worth the oxygen in his office.
He steeples his fingers, takes a slow breath, and looks at me with an unimpressed calm. It's crazy how he's the same man who claimed he was impressed with me the first time he met me. Guess that was all for show.
“Look, I was in a very good mood when I decided to hire you.
And also out of a small favor for Lincoln because he's a really good worker.
But please don't get it twisted. Your little attitude was only cute the first time.
And since you're here and you work for me, there's only so much that I'm gonna let slide, especially now.
So if you can't handle this job, then I'd like to know ahead of time so you don't interrupt the flow of what we've got going on here.
Any more mistakes from you and you're gone.”
I try not to roll my eyes.
God, I want to. My mouth even twitches with something sharp, something that would definitely get me fired on the spot. But he’s right. I did mess up. And I’m not in the mood to add gasoline to this fire.
My posture softens. “If it happens again, which I don't expect it to, then I completely understand you firing me.”
He nods once, curt. “Okay, don't make me look like an idiot.”
You do a good job of that all on your own, I want to mutter. It sits heavy on the back of my tongue, begging to be unleashed.
But I swallow it, offer a stiff nod, and keep my mouth shut. Some battles aren’t worth losing my job over.
I step out of Tobias Voss’s office feeling wrung out, like someone snapped a rubber band against my pride. I’m still replaying the lecture in my head, mentally kicking myself for messing up something as basic as delivering the right documents.
Maybe I was distracted, or overthinking. Maybe life just wanted to embarrass me today.
One of its favorite things to do.
As I’m walking back toward the elevators, I hear someone call my name.
“Rough day?”
Fabian is leaning against the wall near the glass railing, arms crossed, watching me like he already knows the answer. He’s mostly stationed in our department aka Level B, quiet most of the time, observant in a way that makes you think he doesn’t miss much.
I try to keep my irritation from showing, but it’s probably all over my face. “Don’t,” I mutter.
He raises both eyebrows. “Yeah, falling like a bat outta hell from the boss’s good graces is one way to pep the mood.”
That earns him a frown. I’m still too annoyed to joke about it. But he doesn’t push; instead, he falls into step beside me as I head toward the break area.
A moment passes before he asks, “Yeah, what do you like to do outside of this? It’s not the kind of job that I would imagine someone who looks like you would be doing.”
I stop and look at him. “What do you mean by that?”
“I don’t know, you look like a model or something.”
“Oh stop. You’re just saying that because you’re trying to be flirty.”
“Maybe I am flirty by nature but I’m telling the truth. But that’s good. I don’t really see a future in people posting all of their slutty pictures on the internet.”
“How do you know that I don’t?”
“That’s a good point. Do you?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Well, there you go. Do you have social media?”
“Yeah.”
“I have social media too, but I’m not on it a lot.”
“I’m not on it a lot either.”
He studies me for a beat, then asks, “Is it true that you were married to Lincoln?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you guys still together?”
My throat tightens. There’s no clean answer for this one, and I hate that. I still have feelings for Lincoln, embarrassingly deep, complicated ones, and I know damn well we’re never getting back together. But I don’t want some random coworker dissecting our history.
I sigh. “Yeah, we were married, you know. We’re just friends now.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, what does that mean? You know, friends that fuck on the side or friends like emotional support animal or friends like, hey, we just get along? Because there’s a rumor that you guys live together.”
“Yeah, he’s helping me out right now, but I am gonna get my own place. But we’re not fucking.”
I have no idea why I’m sharing this with him. It’s not his business.
“Are you just saying that? So that’s what people think or is that really the case?”
A soft laugh escapes me. “You’re quite a nosy person, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I’m very nosy. I don’t beat around the bush about things that I want to know when it suits me.”
“And why would this suit you?”
“Because I’m interested in getting to know you. And I don’t want to waste my time. I’m also very curious, why a woman like you, is someone that Lincoln would let go?”
Heat creeps up my neck. He’s so straightforward it catches me off guard, but… in a good way. He’s confident without being slimy. There’s something unexpectedly grounding about him. Refreshing, even.
“You know, it’s kind of refreshing. You speaking what’s on your mind,” I admit.
“Yeah. You know, I grew up in a Catholic family and always being told to watch my mouth, and, you know, I would get slapped for speaking up about things or if I had to tell the truth about something I would get beat up for it.
So for a while I kind of was under the social radar and I was in a relationship with this girl and I loved her a lot and I let a lot of things slide in that relationship because I just learned to survive and shut up because every time I did speak up it was a fight until she broke my heart.
“And I’m not innocent, you know… I also did stuff to hurt her as well in response to what she did to me. But now, I don’t know, I just live my life with a motto: if I have something, I’m gonna say it. Cuz life is too short to sit down and just lie, you know.”
“Yeah,” I say softly. Honesty matters to me. Meeting in the middle matters. It’s what a relationship should be,” I admit.
“Yeah, I don’t like liars. It’s something I absolutely despise with my whole being.”
The way he said that with his whole soul makes me feel for him. He knows what it’s like to be hurt by someone close.
“Have you had any luck after dating, like that girl… or… with other girls?” I pry.
“Yeah, and I always end up dumping them because they always end up lying about something, like, straight to my face. Like, I’ll ask them, already know what the answer is, but I’ll ask them straight to their face.
You know, ‘is this the case? Did you do such-and-such?’ And then the worst part is when you catch them in a lie and then they try to turn it around on you, and tell you that you’re controlling somehow because you caught them somewhere out in public with another dude while we’re all together, you know? Stuff like that.”
“I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
“No, it’s all good. Growing pains, right? Sometimes who you end up with is not who you’re meant to spend the rest of your life with.”
His words settle into me in a quiet way. I think about Lincoln. About us.
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