“Does it hurt still?” she asked at breakfast two days later.
The bruise under his eye blue and green, Gabriel sighed. “I’m crushed, fragile flower that I am.”
“It’s not funny.” She hated that she’d hurt him.
“Sweetheart, I took worse hits than this in training.” He cuddled her close, big and strong enough to not care that she’d gotten in a lucky shot. “We will sleep in the same bed one of these days.” A deep, demanding kiss that left her breathless. “In the meantime, we’ll amuse each other in other ways.”
She couldn’t be as sanguine, but as the bruise faded and they continued to become more entwined as a couple, she listened to Dr. Mac’s advice and forgave herself for the incident. Festering over it would only hold her back. It still hurt though. Deep in the night, when she lay alone in her bed, she couldn’t help the tears sometimes.
She hated, hated knowing that something inside her remained fractured. But for that one huge obstacle to the life she wanted with Gabriel, things were good. The man she adored felt the same about her, and they were an incredible team at work. That Friday, he was at a meeting with all the regional managers while Charlotte held the fort at the office.
When she did need to contact him, she sent through a quick message, received a response. A couple of times, he called her back during breaks in the meeting in order to give her more complicated instructions, which included her having to deal directly with CEOs of supply companies, VPs, and other high-level people.
A few months ago, she’d have quivered and stuttered and curled into a ball at the very idea of it. Today she was greeted by name, she chatted easily with the people on the other end of the line, and got matters sorted out one after the other. The T-Rex at whose head she’d once thrown a stapler, then a muffin, had been good for her.
No one could travel a hard road all alone.
Not even Gabriel.
She called him at two. “Have you eaten lunch?”
“Yes, since it was delivered right to my hand.”
“Good.” She’d organized the catering for the meeting and given very specific instructions about making sure Gabriel’s was handed personally to him. “How’s it going?”
“No one’s been an idiot so far” was the short answer. “I’m giving it another hour, then heading to the North Shore store to speak to the staff.”
That was the thing about Gabriel—he was consistently noted as one of the most approachable CEOs of a major corporation in the country. Everyone on the staff, from the most junior new hire to the old guard, had his e-mail address. She’d seen his inbox. She also knew he answered every one of those messages. That’s often what he did at night and on the weekends.
Aware that it was important to him, she’d started to figure out ways to clear time during the day so he could deal with the e-mails at the office rather than constantly taking work home. Part of that meant handling more things herself. “I need an assistant,” she said to him now. “What I was to Anya.”
Gabriel snorted. “You were doing her job.”
“Yes, fine. I need someone who will actually be my assistant.”
“Hire someone.”
That was that. Instead of making up a job ad, she promoted from within, reaching out to a staff member who’d shown potential. The other woman didn’t have the qualifications that would’ve made her an automatic shoo-in for the position, but she did better work than others who were technically more qualified.
It felt good to make someone’s day and to make a silent statement that hard work would be noticed and rewarded. “You’ll officially start next week,” she told the younger woman. “That’ll give HR time to get someone to fill your current position.”
Beaming, the other woman left to share her good news with her friends, and Charlotte got back to work. Gabriel still wasn’t back at five thirty. When she called him, he said he was taking the store’s managerial team out to dinner and asked her to meet him at a restaurant over the bridge.
Heading downstairs to the lobby around six, she smiled at the security guard on duty. “Bye, Steven.”
“Hey, Charlie. I have to walk you out—boss’s orders.”
“The car’s two feet outside the door.” She could see the idling cab, her favorite cabbie’s bearded form in the driver’s seat.
“I’m not about to argue with Mr. Bishop.”
“You should. It’s good for him.”
That made Steven laugh as he pushed the button that opened the doors after hours. “You have a good night.”
“You too.” Right before she was about to slide into the cab, something made her look around. It felt as if someone was watching her, the feeling so visceral she knew it wasn’t paranoia.