Chapter Twenty-One
GAbrIEL
As I sat at my desk Tuesday morning, I dug the heels of my hands into my eye sockets and cursed myself for being disappointed in Charlotte’s cool reception yesterday.
I was being stupid.
So we’d had a nice time on Saturday at the game. So I’d had the pleasure of witnessing yet another personal side of Charlotte. Big deal.
Yet somehow, she’d been occupying my thoughts ever since.
The sound of her laugh. The natural way she’d spoken with my daughter. The way she was funny and warm with Austin and the other people in the suite.
At least the first-round interviews for the CEO position were behind us.
I’d played the part I always did in an interview by being confident, and steady.
Whether I’d managed to tip the scales in my favor, I couldn’t tell.
Just like I didn’t know who else aside from Charlotte and me was vying for the position.
No doubt there were other internal candidates, but I couldn’t picture anyone else being competition for the role.
The real unknown were the external candidates they were interviewing.
But the McMillion brothers would be nuts to offer the job to an outsider given the experience level of their internal options.
If I could only get these layoffs behind us. Reviewing the list gave me a headache. Knowing Charlotte, she was probably equally as unhappy about having to make these cuts.
Rearranging some of the groups gave me an idea I wanted to float by her in our afternoon meeting. Funny how I’d gone from loathing the idea of twice-daily meetings to looking forward to them.
Which was why, when she sent a message cancelling a half hour later, disappointment hit harder than it should have. I headed to her office anyway.
As I knocked lightly on the open door, I caught her glance up from her couch where she was sitting with one knee crossed over the other leg, reading a report of some sort.
She didn’t make it easy to stay focused, not with her hair swept back in a low bun and a black dress with sharp, elegant lines.
Her heels led me to thoughts that I had no business entertaining in the office.
“Hi. I realize you had to cancel, but I had something I wanted to run by you if you’ve got a few minutes.”
“Oh, sure. Yes, I have ten before I need to hop on a client call.”
“Great.” I closed the door behind me and handed over the paper in my hand. “The idea is to cut our layoff list in half.”
Her brows lifted, interest flickering. She sat back, scanning the first sheet. “Walk me through it.”
I took a seat in the chair opposite her.
“The Juniper lease in London is up for renewal next quarter,” I began.
“Current rates are absurd, even by London standards. I ran a cost analysis factoring in early retirement packages, relocation expenses, and long-term rent forecasts. If we move to one of the available mid-market properties, say, Southwark or Canary Wharf, we could save nearly sixty percent of what we’re slated to lose through salary cuts alone. ”
Her lips pursed slightly as she calculated. “Office moves are expensive. What are the other prices like in London?”
I slid over the second spreadsheet. “Factored those in, too. These are three options based on recent lease comps and corporate tax incentives for relocation. Short term, yes, it’s an expense. But long term, it stabilizes overhead and buys us flexibility.”
She studied the papers in silence, her gaze sharp, thoughtful. Watching her process data was almost as fascinating as the data itself.
She took her time with the spreadsheets, the silence stretching between us. Finally, she glanced up, her expression unreadable for a moment before the faintest curve touched her lips.
“This is really smart.” She circled the column that showed projected savings. “It gives us breathing room, so we don’t have to make cuts we’ll regret in six months.”
“Glad you think so.” I managed to keep my voice steady. But her approval meant more than I’d expected. I respected her opinion and knew no one would fight harder to save jobs than Charlotte.
“Will you run this by the owners as an alternative?”
“Absolutely. I could email this to them. Or better yet, when I meet with them on Thursday morning, and I’ll walk them through it in person.”
“Right, they’re in town for the charity event tomorrow night?”
“Yes, they typically attend the gala.”
Arrow Communications sponsored an annual charity event which was a chance to wine and dine clients while giving back to the local community. Knowing the owners, I figured it was mostly a nice tax write-off, but who was I to judge? “Will you be there?”
She looked up. “Yes, I’ll be there.”
“Good. Me, too.” The words came huskier than intended, the air between us shifting. For a moment, neither of us spoke or broke our locked gaze. The faintest flush rising along her neck let me know I wasn’t alone in whatever this was.
I pushed back my chair, keeping my tone easy. “I’ll email you copies.”
She cleared her throat, standing up and busying herself with something on the table. “Terrific.”
As I walked out of her office, and the door clicked shut behind me, I realized I was infatuated in a way I’d never experienced.
I needed to remind myself that she was both the competition and my boss.
But it wouldn’t be forever. When the dust finally settled regarding the CEO position, maybe then we’d have the chance to explore something.
The only problem was that patience had never been my strong suit.
On Wednesday evening, the ballroom located at a luxury hotel in downtown San Diego gleamed with crystal chandeliers hanging from high ceilings. Beautifully decorated tables awaited guests for the charity event.
The hum of laughter and the low swell of a string quartet filled the room. I had been to enough of these events to be bored by them, but tonight, when I caught sight of Charlotte across the crowd, the air left my lungs.
She was stunning.
She wore midnight silk skimming every line of her body, the neckline elegant without apology, the fabric catching the light in a way that made her seem almost untouchable.
She stood with a small cluster of clients, listening intently, her hand wrapped around a flute of champagne.
I was certain I’d risk whatever it took to get close to her tonight.
And then I spotted him. A man I didn’t recognize, tall and polished, sliding into place at her side.
He leaned in like he had every right, his hand settling casually against the small of her back.
She didn’t flinch or move away. She even tilted her head toward him as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
The spark in my chest flickered, darkened, and flared hotter than before.
I edged toward the bar where Olivia was chatting with one of the PR managers. Unapologetically, I put her on the spot. “Who’s the guy with Charlotte?” I nodded toward the man at her side.
Olivia followed my gaze, giving me a quick, knowing look. At this point, I wasn’t sure I cared if I was obvious.
“That’s Daniel. She’s brought him to company events the last couple of years as her plus-one.”
Plus-one. The words burned more than the Scotch sliding down my throat. I set the empty glass on the counter with a muted clink, decision already made. “Do me a favor. Get her away for a minute. Say you need her in the back for a word. I need five minutes with her. Alone.”
Olivia arched a brow but didn’t protest. She pulled out her phone, and her thumbs flew. A beat later, she smiled. “Done. She’ll meet me in the back corridor, right around there.” She pointed the way.
I wasn’t sure exactly what came next, only that standing still wasn’t an option anymore.
Whatever this was, I was already in motion.