Page 8 of The Boss and the Adoption Mess
"I like high-quality alcohol and high-quality company."
That earns me a smile. Gabriel stands, gestures toward a table opposite the bar. Each private area has a semi-circular booth where you can sit comfortably and get closer.
"We could sit over there..."
It's not as bright there as it is at the bar. Gabriel pulls out his wallet and slides two bills to Chloe, which she accepts. "Keep the change."
Then he turns back to me: "...and talk a little?"
Why not? He seems to be not only a good-looking man, but his charm convinces me as well.
"Gladly. And thank you for the invitation." I finish my Virgin Colada, stand up and look again at Chloe, who silently but with a meaningful look hands me my whiskey. "Here you go," she adds.
"Thank you. I think one is enough for today," I reassure her, so that while Chloe continues to watch me, she also lets me go withGabriel. Us women look out for each other. In our crazy world, it's better to look twice before embarking on an adventure with a stranger.
"You know the bartender well?" Gabriel asks as we walk together to the empty spot and settle in.
"What makes you think so?" I ask him, wondering how he could figure that out so quickly.
"She gave you such a stern look, as if she didn't approve of you drinking something with me. As a bartender, she should actually be happy about customers drinking, but she wasn't," he reveals as he sits down next to me on the soft cushions.
"Good observation." Nervous, I take a few greedy sips before adding, "I met her on her very first day here—four months ago. I’d had a rough time, wandered in, and immediately loved the quiet atmosphere. Not as crowded as other bars. I kept coming back."
"And then you became friends?"
I like that he’s curious, asking me questions instead of just talking about himself—too many men often do.
"Yes. We're very good friends." I lean in a bit and promise: "If you tip her well, she won't throw those devastating looks at you anymore."
Gabriel looks at Chloe, who fixes him with a skeptical stare while polishing the same spot on the counter for what feels like an eternity.
"She doesn't seem to like me much, I assume?" he guesses.
"It's the whiskey. She knows I have an important meeting tomorrow, so she’s worried I’ll drink too much. I had a virgin colada earlier—no alcohol."
"And you were too polite to decline my invitation?" Gabriel smiles. A little hope mixes in his expression. I think he senses that I find him incredibly attractive.
"I didn't want to miss the chance to get to know you better." I clink my glass against his and drink a bit more liquid courage.
It feels like an eternity since the last time a man like him flirted with me. I’ve concentrated on my work for far too long. What a coincidence that I’m meeting him today—just one day before this important appointment. As if fate wanted me to have some fun one more time before life gets serious again.
"I'll gladly drink to that," he responds and treats himself to some whiskey. "So, you came here four months ago because you were frustrated?" He remembered that well.
I nod.
"What happened?"
"My boss at the time annoyed me and I quit." I beam at him.
"He annoyed you?" Gabriel seems interested, but not nosy, so I don't mind him asking follow-up questions.
“Yes, he canceled my vacation, refused to pay my overtime for months, and to make matters worse, fired a colleague whose job I was supposed to be working for. Add to that the constant outbursts of anger and disrespectful behavior toward my colleagues and me. At some point, it was just too much."
"The canceled vacation was the last straw?"
"Yes. My mother was celebrating her fiftieth birthday, and I didn't want to miss it under any circumstances. He tried to cancel my time off just two days before. So, I told him where he could shove it."
"Having no respect for your staff isn't a good quality in a supervisor."
