Chapter 4 - The women after my life

(Gabriel)

A dull persistent throbbing pounded at the back of my skull.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, exhaling slowly, but the headache doesn’t ease. That last drink at the club was a mistake, hell, going at all was a mistake. I don’t even remember why I agreed in the first place. Roan had been talking about some merger celebration and I’d let him drag me into it, and now I’m paying for it.

I rubbed a hand down my face, then reached for my coffee. It’s gone cold, but I drink it anyway, welcoming the bitterness. My laptop screen blurred for a second before coming back into focus, an huge amount of unread emails glaring back at me.

I should’ve left the club earlier, i had nothing to gain from being there, Instead I wasted hours tolerating drunk executives and mindless chatter. And then, her.

My grip tightened around the coffee cup as I remember the woman who ruined my suit.

Sharp green eyes, defiant little glare, and the way she had the audacity to blame me for bumping into her.

I scoffed under my breath. Unbelievable.

Most people apologize when they spill an entire drink on someone. She, on the other hand, had acted like I owed her something. And her mouth…

I cursed under my breath, I should’ve had her thrown out.

I shake off the memory and focus on my laptop, the numbers don’t add up. Montclair Advertising’s profits have taken a hit, but it doesn’t make sense. Our campaigns are successful, our clients satisfied. Yet deals keep slipping, projects fail at the last minute, and I don’t like the pattern I’m seeing and I need answers, fast.

The loud ring of my phone pulls me from my thoughts, making me glance at the screen, and my headache gets even worse.

Eleanor Montclair.

I would ignore it, but I know better.

With a resigned sigh, I press the answer button. “What do you want, Mother?”

She doesn’t acknowledge my tone. “Gabriel. I assume you’re on your way.”

I glance at my watch. “I’m at work.”

“Yes, and you can leave.” Her voice is smooth, unwavering. “I expect you at eight.”

“I have a company to run.”

“And I want to spend time with you.”

I drag a hand through my hair. “Reschedule.”

“No.”

I clench my jaw. “Eleanor…”

“Eight o’clock,” she repeats. “I won’t say it again.”

The line goes dead before I can argue.

I exhaled sharply, tossing my phone onto the desk.

Of course.

Eleanor Montclair never asks, she demands as though I don’t have a life. And she always gets what she wants, always.

I leaned back in my chair, rubbing at my temple. The headache hasn't reduced, and now I have to waste my night entertaining whatever scheme my mother is brewing.

A knock at the door barely gives me a second before Kate strides in, not even bothering to wait for permission.

“Busy?” she asks, her voice slick with fake sweetness.

I don’t look up at her. “Yes.”

She ignores that and steps closer, her perfume filling the space between us. “You look tense.”

I type a quick email, pretending she isn’t there. “I am tense.”

“Maybe I can help with that.”

I finally look up. She’s leaning against my desk, one of her legs crossed over the other, her skirt riding just a little too high.

I set my laptop aside. “Kate.”

She tilts her head, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “What?”

I don’t answer. Instead, I just stare at her, waiting.

A few seconds pass before she exhales, dramatically adjusting her blouse. “You’re no fun anymore.”

I arch a brow. “I wasn’t aware this office was meant for fun.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s irritation beneath the act. “You never used to mind.”

“I do now.”

Something flashes in her eyes, annoyance and frustration.

She leans in slightly, lowering her voice. “We could keep things the way they were.”

I lean back, unfazed. “And that would benefit me how?”

She scoffs, pulling away. “Forget it.”

“I already have.”

Kate huffs and smooths her skirt before walking toward the door. “I’ll be at my desk if you need me.”

“I won’t.”

She stiffens but doesn’t respond, instead, she pulls the door open and disappears.

I sigh, rubbing the tension from my neck, first my mother, now Kate.

The day just keeps getting better and it’s not even noon yet.