Page 19 of Forever Mine

“Well, now that you’ve ruined my surprise, come for dinner anyway,” she says.

“Of course, I will. I’m happy for you, Em. Really.”

“I know you are. Any chance you can bring dinner?”

I chuckle. There’s the real reason.

“What weird craving are you having now?” Her first pregnancy was ridiculous. I only heard about the cravings because I was still in Oklahoma for most of it.

“None … yet. They’re coming, though. But I just really want a salad from that place with the good ranch over by your office,” Em tells me.

“Done. You want me to pick up anything for the girls?”

“No. They’re big into grilled cheese right now. I can swing that.”

Poppy and Rose are three-years-old and different as night and day. Rose is loud, brash, and right in your face. She does her namesake proud with her shenanigans. My grandmother would have gotten the biggest kick out of her. And Poppy is Nathan’s little mini-me. Observant, quiet, introverted, and empathetic. They’re both complete joys. Their little sister Daisy is a hybrid of Poppy and Rose. Very observant, but also very extroverted and full of sass.

“Oh! The new broker started today, I guess,” I tell Emily.

“What’s she like?”

“He.”

“He?”

“Yep. Already an asshole from what I can tell.”

“How have you come to that conclusion already?” Emily asks. I tell her about the scheduled meeting and how he made me leave the conference room. “Well, maybe he was setting up. Or maybe he’s nervous? Give him a chance, Mon.”

“I don’t want to,” I admit.

“Obviously.”

“I’m just really going to miss Meghan. She’s the first boss I’ve had that I actually liked.”

“You don’t know that you won’t like this guy. If you go in there with a chip on your shoulder, you probably won’t change your mind. This is all in your head, girlie,” Emily tells me. I sigh. She’s right. I look down at my watch and realize the meeting has already started.

“Shit, Em, I have to go. The meeting started, and I’m still outside.”

“Alright, I’ll see you at dinner. Get me extra ranch!” she shouts as I end the call. I jog into the building and bust right into the conference room to see everyone already seated.

“Twenty minutes early, and now you’re late? Not a good first or second impression, Miss …” the man says, bent over his laptop again.

“Um, Monica. Monica Valducci,” I answer sheepishly. His head whips up, and he stares incredulously at me.

Holy shit.

It’s Gabriel.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Gabriel

Deus maldito.

God dammit.

It’s her.

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