Chapter Thirteen
CHARLOTTE
The weekend blurred past in family, laundry, and agonizing over the layoff spreadsheet. When Monday morning came, and I stepped into the office, there Gabriel was, already in his office with the door open.
And damned if the sight of him didn’t unsettle me as memories flooded back from last week. “Good morning.”
He glanced up, shadows under his eyes. His voice was low. “Morning.”
I stepped inside, careful with my tone. “How are…things with your brother?”
His gaze flickered, followed by the familiar shuttered look. “I’d rather not get into it. But if you’re asking about work, I’m caught up on emails, and I’m ready to dive in. How were the remainder of the London meetings?”
“Fine. I can catch you up now or later during our stand-up.”
“Now works.”
The wall was back, this time higher, thicker, and firmly reinforced. The easy rapport we’d started to establish in London evaporated, replaced by a coolness even frostier than before.
I shouldn’t have been disappointed. But I was. Just for a beat, before I pushed it aside and reminded myself why boundaries existed in the first place.
Taking a seat, I began by running through the few meetings he’d missed, together with the action items we’d outlined, and ended with the next steps that I wanted him to lead. He listened, quiet and focused, jotting the occasional note.
Taking a steady breath, I saved the most significant for last. “I’ve added John to the list of layoffs.”
Gabriel’s brows went sky high. “Since when?”
“Since he continues to be a poor example of leadership despite given multiple chances to turn around.”
The faint clench of his jaw gave him away. Irritation, carefully contained, but there all the same. “I’d like to be given another shot at getting him on board.”
“Why?” I asked, holding his gaze, not understanding his loyalty. Or perhaps this wasn’t loyalty but ego given both John and Gabriel came from Juniper. “Are you ready to stake your reputation on him?”
He exhaled slowly, the fight leaving his shoulders. “He’s going through a divorce. It’s not an excuse, but he’s been off his game. Give me one last chance to work with him.”
I found myself studying him for a moment longer than I should have. Was he relating to John and his divorce?
I nodded once. “You have a week. If there’s no improvement, he remains on the list.”
“Fair,” he replied quietly.
The word lingered between us for a moment until I stood up and left, heading back to my office.
I waved at George, who stood near the copier with a cart stacked high with boxes of paper. Nothing unusual in him being there this time of day, stocking up the printer, except for his face. His color was off, his expression strained.
“Hi, George. You all right?”
He didn’t answer with his usual smile or greeting. Instead, his chest heaved like he couldn’t catch his breath. His hand went to his shirtfront and clutched his chest while his face flushed an alarming shade of red.
“George?” I rushed forward, panic scraping an edge to my voice.
His mouth opened but no words came. A terrible rasp filled the silence. Then, as if his legs simply gave out, his knees buckled.
I lunged to catch him, but his weight dragged us both down as he crumpled to the floor.