Page 23 of It's Always Been You
She gives me a satisfied look. “Well, Gabriel Sullivan, I hope I’ll be seeing more of you. Molly’s in her office. It’s the first door on the right at the top of the stairs.”
“Thanks, Julie. By the way, I ordered lunch for everyone. It should be here in an hour. Tacos used to be Molly’s favorite, so I took a guess. I didn’t know what you would all want, so I ordered some of everything.”
Julie gives me a broad smile. “I hope Molly decides to keep you, Gabriel. I think I’m going to like having you around.”
“Count on it. And call me Gabe. All my friends do.”
I give her a wink and head up to see my girl.
Chapter Seven
Molly
“God fucking dammit,” I mumble, rereading the email on my screen for the third time, willing it to somehow say something different. It doesn’t.
From:[email protected]
Subject:Meeting Next Week
Molly,
I hope this email finds you well. I’m looking forward to our meeting next week about the family office restructure we have been discussing. I wanted to let you know in advance of the meeting that, due to the abundance of legal work we anticipate in the coming weeks and months, we are considering taking on a second outside counsel. As such, a representative of the firm Jacobs & Woll will be in attendance as well.
Best regards,
Harvey Randall
I know it’s not actually possible for steam to come out of a person’s ears, but my current anger level makes it feel possible. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, then another one. It does nothing to cool my rage.
I need candy.
Standing quickly, I stalk to my closet and root around in the bottom, but after a minute of searching, I remember I brought all my black licorice home after the first run in with Gabe. I thought I would need emotional support licorice that night, and I was right. But that means I don’t have emotional support licorice now.
Fuck.
I let out a frustrated growl and glance at my clock, wondering if I have time to go buy more before my meeting with Gabe.
My meeting with Gabe. My ex-boyfriend slash love of my life, who I saw just the other day for the first time in ten years. Who now lives in Pittsburgh, where I also live. Who still looks at me like he wants to devour me whole. Who makes me want things I’m not supposed to want. Who is supposed to be walking into this office in exactly two minutes.
My pressing need for candy exists on multiple levels.
“Suck it up, Molly,” I mumble. “Shoulders back, tits out. Straighten that goddamn crown.”
Standing in the center of my office, I close my eyes. Squaring my shoulders and shaking back my hair, I put my hands on my hips in a power pose, tip my head back, and open my mouth in a silent scream. I’m glad I’m wearing my favorite pantsuit in my signature color—pink of course—because I may be annoyed as fuck, but at least I look good. I wish intensely I could do a real, true primal scream, but it’s the middle of the workday and I’m a motherfucking professional.
“You’re gorgeous when you’re frustrated.”
My eyes fly open, and I spin in the direction of the voice.
Its owner is standing in my doorway, leaning against the door jam. He’s wearing a Captain America T-shirt and perfectly worn jeans that hug his muscular thighs. Looks like someone has been hitting the gym over the past decade, and I am not mad about it. The sneakers on his feet are the same exact brand and style he was wearing the last time I saw him. His reading glasses are tucked in the neck of his T-shirt, his brown hair flopping over his forehead in the way that used to make me take leave of my senses, and his clear blue eyes flashing with amusement. He has a coffee cup in one hand and a plastic bag over his arm, and when our eyes meet and a smile spreads over his face, my heart stutters.
Literally. Fucking. Stutters.
It’s possible I am slightly screwed.
Wanting to take back some of the upper hand I lost immediately in the face of all of his gorgeous perfection, I narrow my eyes at him.
