Chapter 6
Chapter Six
GAbrIEL
Unpacking was a giant pain in the ass. Sure, I could’ve had the same movers who’d hauled my stuff out of storage when I returned from London handle the unpacking, but then I’d never know where anything was.
My new condo was on the top floor of a building in Mission Bay.
It boasted two bedrooms and was all clean lines and glass, the kind of modern minimalism which looked better in a magazine than it felt in real life.
The balcony stretched wide, overlooking the bay.
Out there, sunlight bounced off the water and reminded me how beautiful San Diego was.
It should’ve felt like a fresh start. Instead, it felt…unsettled.
Maybe it was because everything in my professional and personal life was.
Of course, my mother refused to let me tackle the unpacking alone.
The smell of her lasagna baking in the oven filled the space, warm and comforting.
The aroma made the bare walls and still-half-empty rooms feel homey.
Meanwhile, she moved around my kitchen with practiced efficiency, organizing my drawers and unloading my dishes.
“You need more dish towels and oven mitts, not to mention a hall table near the door. I’ll pick them up tomorrow.”
“It’s not necessary.”
Her hands went to her hips, and she gave me a look that could make any man, especially her three grown sons, back down. Anna Chambers was only five foot five in heels, but she was easily the most formidable person I knew.
My father might be the face of Chambers Technology, but my mother was the force that had formed the roots of the successful company, and she’d done so all while raising three boys.
“It wasn’t a question, Gabriel,” she said, softening. “Now, then, what does Samantha think of the new place?”
I leaned against the counter, the thought of my daughter causing a familiar weight in my chest. “No clue. I was hoping she might’ve told you something.”
Samantha had stayed with me last weekend but had barely spoken three words about the condo.
I’d bought the place with her in mind and had even set up her room with pink bedding, her own desk, and a view to wake up to.
She called the bedding childish, announced she was now a vegetarian after I ordered a steak dinner for the two of us, and treated our Saturday afternoon mall trip as if it were a hostage situation.
By Sunday night, I’d given up and dropped her at my parents’ house so she could bake with my mom and sleep somewhere familiar.
My mom huffed a soft sigh. “She’s about to be a teenager, Gabriel. She’s testing you. Be patient.”
I scrubbed a hand over my face. “I feel like I don’t know her anymore. When did she become a vegetarian?”
She chuckled. “I’m thinking it’s more of a flexitarian arrangement given she ate cheeseburgers at our place on Sunday night.”
I swore under my breath. The year in London had been great for my career and terrible for my relationship with Samantha.
Despite flying home one week a month, it hadn’t been enough to bridge the gap.
Distance had a way of creeping in quietly until one day you realized the space between you had settled in as the new normal.
Now that I was back for good, ready to make up for lost time, all she seemed to want was to be anywhere but with me.
My mother moved to fuss over the picture frames on the mantel above the gas fireplace. I had snapshots of family vacations, birthdays, and holidays. Each one was proof that my daughter had, at least once upon a time, loved me.
As if she sensed my downward spiral, my mom tossed me a lifeline.
“She turns thirteen next weekend. We’ll have a party and a great time celebrating.
Leo’s coming in from Vegas and bringing a friend.
I’m hoping it’s the woman he’s been seeing.
And Nicky and Kelsey will be there, of course. They’re such a great couple.”
I nodded, a small smile tugging at my mouth. My youngest brother, Dominic, or “Nicky” to the family, had fallen head over heels for Kelsey the minute he’d met her on a forensic accounting project last year. They’d been inseparable ever since.
As for Leo, my tattooed, war-veteran brother? His situation was more curious. I hadn’t known he was seeing anyone seriously enough to introduce to the family.
Good for them both.
And me? The idea of bringing someone new into my life held zero appeal. I had my daughter, even if she kept me at arm’s length these days, my family, and my career. It was enough. Or at least, that’s what I kept telling myself.
Dating? Sure. A casual night, no strings, no expectations?
Absolutely. But commitment, marriage, love?
I’d tried all three, in that order, and the reward had been child support, a custody schedule, and the lifelong privilege of getting blamed for someone else’s unhappiness.
At least I’d been smart enough to sign a prenup.
Still, the truth sat heavy. My marriage, with its quiet unraveling which had culminated in divorce, remained my biggest failure.
My parents never said it out loud, but I witnessed it in their careful pauses, their small glances when conversation drifted too close.
But maybe the silent accusation didn’t come from them at all.
Maybe it came from me, still carrying the weight of a life I hadn’t been able to fix.
Once was enough. I wasn’t interested in failing again at love.
“What can I do or bring for her party?”
My parents had done so much for me over the years I’d spent as a single dad that I doubted I’d ever be able to repay them. I was grateful for the steady bridge they provided between me and my daughter.
On the other hand, perhaps I was being dramatic. Teenagers pushed boundaries. Hadn’t my brothers and I tested our parents’ patience often enough? And the hows and whys of a pre-teen girl was uncharted territory.
“What you can do is bring the guest of honor,” my mom replied with a smile. “And leave the rest to her grandparents, who are thrilled to have the whole family together. If you haven’t noticed, we’re very happy you’ve moved home, Gabriel.”
“Happy to be home,” I returned, though the words didn’t land with as much conviction as I wished.
There’d been a freedom in living abroad.
London had given me the luxury of carving out a career path without the shadow of my family name, of being in a place where no one knew me as a Chambers.
Of course I’d missed my daughter, but if I was being brutally honest, living overseas had given me a reprieve from the constant friction with Samantha’s mother, from the negotiations and arguments which came with shared custody.
Now, though, I could already feel how my year away had backfired. Samantha was slipping from me, and reestablishing my place in her life was turning out to be harder than making my mark in a boardroom. And this time, there was no strategy, no negotiation, that could guarantee the outcome I wanted.
“How’s work?” my mom asked, pulling me out of my thoughts about my daughter. Unfortunately, thoughts of work landed squarely on Charlotte.
“The merger has its challenges,” I admitted.
“And the new boss? Is he less difficult to work for than your father?”
I chuckled, thinking Charlotte’s style of relentless involvement wasn’t unlike his. “I just met her, but she seems fine so far.” Smart. Beautiful. Sexy. A dangerous combination.
My mom’s brows arched. “She? Well, I sure like the sound of that. Lord knows this industry could use more diversity.”
I didn’t argue. The tech industry was historically a male-dominated field.
The next morning, I arrived at the office early, smug at the thought of being the first one there. My smugness faded fast when I spotted the light under Charlotte’s closed door. Of course she’d already beaten me in.
It was a silly thing to be competitive about, yet here I was.
While in the kitchen fixing a cup of coffee, I watched Charlotte come out of her office and talk with the custodian.
“Morning, George,” she greeted warmly, as though he were a board member instead of a man pushing a cart stacked with cleaning supplies. “How’s your new grandbaby?”
The older gentleman’s face softened into a grin, pride etched in every line as he told her about late-night feedings and how the baby had started smiling. Charlotte leaned in, listening like she was fully invested.
I kept moving, frowning to myself. Time was a luxury most executives didn’t have and, frankly, shouldn’t waste.
Yet, there was something in the way George reacted to the attention, as if her interest in his life outside of the office had made a difference to him.
Inefficient? Absolutely. But perhaps effective in its own way for improving the company culture.
Shaking my head, I dropped into my chair and pulled up the client portfolios. When my calendar reminder flashed for our daily meeting, I braced myself for our first encounter of the day.
Her door was open. She was sitting at her small table, poring over a stack of papers, hair falling like silk around her face, a forest-green dress skimming her frame, and heels that made my pulse jump in ways it had no place in an office.
“Morning,” I greeted, hovering at the door. “I can come back if you’re busy.”
Charlotte looked up, cool and composed, before standing. “Not at all. You’re right on time. Let’s sit at the table. And close the door, please.”
Nothing unusual about her request except the way it made the room feel smaller once I did.
I took a seat as she came around with two stapled documents. “I was reviewing John’s report on cloud services adoption, and I’ve flagged a few errors.”
My jaw tightened. I’d reviewed every line before it had gone out.
She slid a printed version across the table.
“Where?” I asked, flipping through.
“Two footnotes and this citation.”
“No one reads footnotes or citations.”
“I do,” she replied evenly.
I ground my teeth as she continued, unflinching.
“A client finds one mistake, and they start questioning all of it. Please have him fix it so we can use it on the website.”
Her gaze stayed locked on mine, steady, unyielding.
“I’ll have them corrected.”
“Also, here are notes for the two client calls today.” She handed me two more sheets, explaining briskly. “One client’s considering cloud expansion, the other wants to modernize their infrastructure.”
I leaned back, studying her instead of the paper. “Is it necessary for us both to be on new business calls? Isn’t that what a strong business development and customer care team is for?”
“Good questions. Normally leadership joins only the largest client calls. But with the merger, existing clients want reassurance, while new clients are curious about the dynamic.”
She rattled off plans about a London trip next week, touring Juniper’s old office which was my former turf.
“I’ll work with Olivia to set it up.”
“Great.”
“Great,” I echoed, the word clipped, the silence between us thick enough to taste. I pushed back my chair, ready to escape. “I’m guessing we’re done here?”
Her eyes flashed, temper breaking through the calm. “You’d guess wrong. We have several other things to cover, not least of all the layoffs.”
“I’ve tweaked your spreadsheet. It’s in your inbox.” She moved to grab her laptop, not wasting any time in opening the spreadsheet.
“I started with your original list, then layered in the chiefs’ and directors’ feedback.
In addition, I flagged anyone nearing retirement who might be open to early-exit packages.
With those adjustments, we can bring the cuts closer to three and a half percent instead of five, without losing critical talent. ”
I’d spent a good part of the evening refining that spreadsheet. Numbers had always made sense to me as they were clean, logical, and with no politics involved. If the COO role ever stopped fitting, I could see myself sliding into a CFO seat without missing a beat.
She studied the document, eyes scanning line by line before exhaling softly. “This is a great start, especially flagging possible early retirements, but we need to hit the five percent.”
Her compliment was warm and sincere.
“Who says five percent has to be the hard and fast rule?”
Her tone was soft. “Who do you think?”
The owners. Of course. Our conversation suddenly felt like something shared between people who were on the same team. Perhaps there was hope we’d find some common ground.
She tapped her pencil against the salary column, thoughtful now. “But if we can show we’re cutting five percent salary-wise, which your plan might accomplish, given the higher salaries in the retirement group, we might have an alternate plan to show them.”