Page 84 of Miss Manage

Chapter Forty-Six

CHARLOTTE

If they handed out Oscars for keeping it together at the office while your heart was cracked wide open, I’d have taken home the statue. The next morning, I wore my sharpest suit, painted on a smile, and pretended like nothing had changed despite the whispers about Gabriel resigning unexpectedly

Of all the weeks for my mom and sister to be sipping cocktails on a faraway beach, it had to be this one. No one to vent to. No one to drag me to a punishing workout or talk me off the ledge. So I did what I always did. I swallowed the hurt, squared my shoulders, and kept moving.

At least it was Friday. I had every intention of winding the day down early so I could get to the weekend and unpack my emotions in private.

Olivia slipped into my office around lunchtime, her face soft with sympathy. “I don’t understand what happened yesterday.”

Neither did I. The different stories about it all weren’t lining up, and the harder I tried to make sense of them, the more my skepticism grew. “Can you walk me through what you witnessed yesterday?” I asked, hoping she’d seen or heard something that could offer some clues.

She perched on the edge of the chair across from me, worry pinching her brows.

“Gabriel and I were talking about you heading back from New York. Then Rosie called to say the owners needed him for a last-minute client meeting upstairs in the executive conference room. He grabbed his jacket and went up, and never returned. I left at five, thinking he was still with them. Do you think something went wrong with the client?”

I had more questions than answers especially since this was the first I’d heard mention of a client. Why would they ask him to come upstairs under that guise? “I’m not sure what could’ve happened.” Until I had all the details, I didn’t want to give Olivia possibly misleading pieces.

I pinched the bridge of my nose at the same time my phone lit up. “Excuse me, I should take this.”

“Of course,” she said quickly, standing. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

It was Jill, my headhunter friend, her normally brisk tone edged with hesitation. “Hey, Charlotte. I got your message and did some checking.” She paused, the sound of keys clicking faintly on her end. “You didn’t hear this from me, but one of the candidates who’d been deactivated last week? He’s been reactivated. The whole thing is weird given they were in the final round.”

Another piece of the mystery. “I appreciate you telling me.” I managed to keep my voice steady. “I’ll keep it in confidence.”

After the call, I sat there. A hollow ache settled in my chest. I’d already been replaying last night, especially the hurt on Gabriel’s face when I’d shut him out, my regret twisting.

The main thing I couldn’t make sense of was why Gabriel had told them about Julian. That had been the breaking point for me, the betrayal I couldn’t forgive.

Only…what if I’d gotten it wrong?

The thought landed like a sharp kick to the ribs. Because the truth was, I hadn’t even let him fully explain. I’d assumed the worst because that’s what people did when they were afraid of being hurt again.

Deciding to duck out early, I pulled into my driveway and checked my phone, wishing Gabriel would’ve called or texted. But no, he’d walked away as if it hadn’t been tough to do so.

When my phone did light up, it wasn’t Gabriel but Austin. “Hi, honey.”

“Hi, Mom. I have a huge problem.”

“What is it? What’s going on? Are you okay?” Mom panic mode activated.

“Yeah, I’m fine. But Dad left for Singapore this morning on a business trip, and Stassie asked me to watch the kids after school for an hour, but she isn’t back.”

I glanced at the clock. Nearly five, which meant she was an hour late. “Did you try calling her?”

“Yeah. It goes straight to voicemail. The kids are hungry, so I’m going to make them something to eat and wait, I guess.”

I attempted to find logical reasons. “Her phone might’ve died, or maybe she’s stuck in traffic. Did she say where she was going?”

“She just said she had an appointment. With Dad on a plane, I don’t know how to reach him, either.”

“Okay. He might have Wi-Fi on the flight. I’ll try emailing him, see if he knows anything. In the meantime, let me change my clothes, and I’ll head over to help.”

“Thanks, Mom.” His voice was filled with relief. “Really. I appreciate it.”

The house hadn’t changed much in the years since I’d lived there. New furniture, yes. Toys everywhere. Baby gear shoved into corners. But the bones, the colors, even the kitchen tile was all the same.