Page 57 of Miss Manage

Chapter Thirty-Three

GABRIEL

What the actual fuck? It was all I could do not to pull Julian up by the lapels and bash his face in for having the audacity to sit there poking and prodding Charlotte like she was some kind of stage act for his amusement. My hands fisted under the table, jaw tight enough to ache, as I sat through dinner counting the minutes until it could finally be over.

If I didn’t know Charlotte better, I might have believed she was unaffected given her smooth smile, polished voice, and her easy deflections.

But I did know better.

Her spine stayed ramrod straight through every smug, offhand comment, but her hand clung to her wineglass like it was the only thing keeping her from snapping. And I just sat there, seething, recognizing I couldn’t do a damn thing about it without putting both our careers in jeopardy.

When we stood to leave, mercifully ending the worst client dinner in the history of client dinners, Julian decided to cap it off by leaning in too close to Charlotte, his hand grazing down her arm like he’d earned the right.

My vision tunneled.

I was ready to throw it all away by putting my fist in his arrogant face. But she turned, her eyes slicing into mine with a look I couldn’t mistake.

Don’t you fucking dare.

So I didn’t. Barely.

By the time we stepped out of the restaurant, the city lights blazing against the night, the silence between us was deafening. Not companionable silence. Not the kind that settles after a long day. This was the kind loaded with unspoken words and tension pulled so tight I thought it might explode.

The doorman hailed a cab, and we slipped inside. Her brow ticked up when I rattled off the name of her hotel to the driver. Or rather, our hotel. A reminder of how I’d completely hijacked her trip.

The leather creaked under the weight of everything left unsaid. Charlotte pulled out her phone, checked a few messages, before sitting prim and still, her gaze fixed firmly out the window, the neon reflections skimming across her face.

I sat beside her, jaw tight, fists planted on my knees, doing my damnedest not to reach for her…or march back to the restaurant and commit a felony. Neither seemed like a smart play.

There were a thousand things I wanted to say, but I started with the only one that mattered. “Are you all right?”

“Fine.”

The lie was too sharp, too practiced. Deciding I could no longer stand our distance, I reached for her hand, but she jerked away.

“Don’t.”

That single word cut deeper than any of Julian’s bullshit had. If it weren’t for the driver glancing at us in the rearview, I would’ve vented my frustration. Instead, I stayed silent, jaw tight, while the city blocks blurred past.

By the time the cab rolled to a stop, the space between us felt unbridgeable.

Once inside, we moved wordlessly through the hotel lobby. The crowded elevator ride dragged on like a punishment. When the doors opened on her floor, I followed, every instinct screaming against letting her walk this off alone.

She spun at her door, her voice flat. “Just go, Gabe. I need to be alone.”

“No—I⁠—”

She didn’t wait for the rest. Unlocking her door with a shaky hand and bolting inside, she dropped her purse on the threshold.

I didn’t think, acting on impulse, and followed her inside. I was in time to see her drop to her knees in the bathroom and heave, her dinner hitting the porcelain in brutal waves.

“Christ.” The sound of the door slamming shut behind me echoed around us.

I ran the tap until the water turned cool, soaked a washcloth, and knelt beside her when she took a seat at the edge of the tub. Wordlessly, I pressed the cloth to her flushed cheeks, wiping away the damp sheen of sweat and the last traces of a disastrous evening.

My throat tightened. Seeing her like this, all hollow-eyed, and spent, made me feel the most helpless I’d ever felt. This was the cost she paid for keeping her composure, for carrying herself like stone while that bastard chipped away at her.

She stood on shaky legs. Then she kicked off her shoes and brushed her teeth. By the time she was done, I could see the resolve start to return. “Please leave.”