“No.” His tone is urgent. “It wasn’t a brawl.”

“But it was drunken! Did you gamble when you were drunk?” I return to my computer and pound my shock out on the keyboard as I continue with my notes. “And why has it taken you so long to come to me? That was not a smart move.”

He smirks, which only gives birth to his dimples, so it’s hard to believe that he’s actually annoyed. “Next time I do a big bad evil thing, I’ll be sure to have you on speed dial.” The smirk turns into a glower.

“Good!” I say, throwing my hands out like,thank you!“What was so important that you couldn’t get this PR nightmare taken care of right away?”

“I was on a short pilgrimage, sort of.”

“A pilgrimage?”

“You know, one of those month-long walks. It’s hard to explain. But it cleared my head.”

“Your head does not seem clear. Your head seems very muddy right now and I just—”

He holds out both palms to interrupt. “Okay! Look. This is hard for me to talk about, but there were a lot of bad things happening all at once.”

“In Prague.”

“Yes. And before. And I lost control.”

At my eyes bugging out of my head, he brings his hands down as if to try to calm the tension.

“I didn’t harm anyone or anything like that. I promise. It just looks bad.” He pauses to take a breath. “And my father . . . well, he let me go. He’s very angry with me and with the situation. So, I’m trying to make things right.”

“Your dad—your own dad—fired you? You’re Gabriel Tate. You’re literally named after an angel.” Something dawns on me. “Are you guys Catholic? Is that why you went on the pilgrimage?”

“We’re not Catholic. Not that that’s relevant or that it would matter if we were.” He rests his elbows on my desk and starts massaging his temples. His cologne wafts to me—a spicy form of deliciousness. “I was at rock bottom and someone at my hotel in Prague suggested the pilgrimage and so I did it. And it worked. I mean, it helped.” His voice is quieter now, hoarse. “My dad let me go and I needed to have something different to do. And now I’ve got to get my job back. And our competitors might find out about what happened, and they’ll only use it to their advantage. I can’t have that.”

“You lost a bunch of money, so your dad fired you to avoid harming the company’s reputation. Is that all you need to tell me?” It’s not the first time I’ve felt a little like a parent with one of my clients.

Not that he’s my client.

“That’s all.” He purses his lips together, like he’s trying to prevent himself from saying anything else.

“Are you sure?” Now I feel like I’m trying to get my sister to confess to something. “Like how much money you lost? If you’ve paid it back? What you’ve already done to make amends? If there are any other indiscretions I need to know about?”

He leans back and tilts his head so he’s looking down his nose at me. “You don’t need to know anything else. Of course there’s more to the story but you know more than enough to do what I’m asking you to do.”

“So you’re here, asking me to help you reestablish the company’s good name, even though I can’t know anything else?”

For the first time since he got here, his baby blues clear, like I’ve just said something brilliant. “Yes.”

I let out a long slow breath, kneading my forehead. “I apologize, Mr. Tate, I really do, but I can’t help you.”

Chapter 2

Gabriel

River Judkins is refusing to help me?

“That’s not how this works,” I counter.

She scowls, flipping her pale-blonde hair over her shoulder. “How what works, exactly? Because you’re not even telling me what’s going on.”

Standing, I get lightheaded. I press my hand on her desk to keep from swaying. I didn’t think I’d have to tell her everything.

“Gabriel, I’m not being nosy. I’m not some woman in a grocery store with curlers in her hair, okay? But I won’t do this favor for you until I have the truth from you. Ethically, I can’t.” She presses her lips together, leans back in her chair, and folds her arms.