Last night had been a bad one.
Heart pounding hard enough to make her feel sick, she’d had to get out of bed, check she was alone in the house before she could close her eyes again. But no matter the fear, she was living a good life. Maybe it wasn’t exciting, she admitted, and maybe her timidity and continued inability to not be afraid was increasingly frustrating… and maybe she’d never have the passionate connection Molly had found with her rock star, but—
“Ms. Baird.”
Jerking at the sound of Gabriel’s voice mixing with that on the tape, she removed the headphones to see him scowling at her. “I’m almost done.”
“Good. Once you finish that, I need you to find Finley and get his ass in here.”
Realizing the scowl hadn’t been for her, she finished up the document, proofed it, then printed it off and handed it to him. Simon Finley had left the office at five, was having a beer at home when she located him.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “That bastard has no life and thinks no one else does either.”
Hanging up on the other man after getting a promise he’d be in within a half hour, she knew Finley was wrong. As shown by the parade of red roses, Gabriel did have a life outside work, one filled with long-legged beauties who not only had va-va-voom bodies and faces but brains. Even the models Gabriel dated weren’t simple clotheshorses; they all had their own perfume or clothing lines, other business ventures.
Yeah, she was never going to be in that league, she thought, picking up the phone to answer a query from the security guard downstairs. “Charlie, delivery guy just dropped off takeout for the boss. I can’t leave my post right now with Steven on break—you okay to come grab it?”
“I’ll be right there.”
After picking up the food, which she saw was from a top-tier restaurant Gabriel liked, she brought it up and carried it through to his office. It was a routine they went through at least three times a week, Gabriel pulling more hours than anyone else in the company.
As usual, the last container was marked “Charlotte.” Normally, she was the one who placed the order, but on the rare occasions he did so himself, he never forgot to order for her, and he never got it wrong. She had no idea how he’d noticed she liked certain things and not others, but he had.
“Finley?” Gabriel asked without looking up from the computer screen.
“On his way back into the city. He’s in Albany, so it’ll be twenty minutes at least with the current traffic.”
No answer, his concentration on work. Taking her dinner back to her desk, she opened it to reveal fragrant jasmine rice with a plastic tub of Thai green curry beside it, a prettily cut cucumber on the rice as a garnish. Mouth watering, she grabbed the included fork and began to eat at her desk.
“Ms. Baird.”
She almost dropped the fork at Gabriel’s quiet but penetrating call. Damn man. Leaving her food, she went to the doorway of his office. “Is there a problem with the document?”
“No. Bring your dinner in here.”
Blinking, she went back to retrieve the container. They never ate together—he was usually working and eating at the same time, and she had to eat quickly in case he wanted her to enter last-minute changes or organize meetings or phone conferences as soon as he was done with whatever he was working on.
Last week, she’d had to call suppliers in London, Namibia, and Finland, all in the space of a single—long—day. Saxon & Archer was once more being lauded as the luxury department store in Australasia, and it had a great deal to do with their rejuvenated supply chain as well as the rising staff morale. All driven by the inexorable force known as Gabriel Bishop.
When she returned to his office, it was to find he’d come around to the black leather seating area to one side that he sometimes used for more casual meetings. His tie was off, the top two buttons of his shirt unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up as was standard by this time of day. Dark stubble shadowed his jaw. The sensual curve of his lower lip was the only point of softness on him.
In her madder moments, Charlotte sometimes wondered if he was rough in bed or if he had tenderness in him.
“You know he’s hot, right?”
Molly had said that to her when Charlotte had been complaining about Gabriel back at the start. While Charlotte had denied it at the time, they’d both known she was lying. Now, if she could only forget his attractiveness and focus strictly on the job, she’d be well on her way to a successful long-term career.
Taking a seat on the sofa opposite him on that reminder, she ate in silence as he alternately frowned at the document he was still reading and went through his food quickly and neatly, as if it was simply fuel. It was a tragedy, the meal exquisitely prepared by one of the top chefs in the country.