6

Gabriel’s POV

“I want us to make a deal.”

Michael took slow, deliberate steps across my office, dragging the leather chair opposite my desk backward before taking a seat.

My face remained completely blank.

“The Gold Spoon 50 gala is coming up,” he began smoothly. “The guest list just leaked on ETV News. Your name is on it.”

“And?”

Through his carefully measured smile, I caught the faint twitch near his eye. “Well... I didn’t make the list.”

Silence stretched between us.

“Are you expecting me to throw a pity party for you?” I asked flatly.

The least he could do was get straight to the point instead of wasting my time. Though, with a small slice of dark relish, I couldn’t help the immense wave of pettiness washing over me at the fact that he’d been snubbed.

The Gold Spoon 50 was held once a year—an underground, hyper-exclusive gathering for the top fifty most powerful executives and investors on the continent. This particular gala was a milestone for me. It was my first official invitation, and conveniently, the one year Michael Barnes hadn't been extended a ticket.

Sitting across from me, he didn't look nearly as smug as he had walking in. The sheer fact that I had been invited while he was passed over clearly repulsed him.

“Each invitation comes with a plus-one pass,” Michael said, leaning forward. “And I want that pass.”

My eyes widened slightly. The side of my lip twitched as I almost burst out laughing, but when I realized he was dead serious, I could only muster an icy smirk, drumming my fingers rhythmically against the wood.

“No.”

“I mentioned I wanted to make a deal,” he pressed, his voice dropping. “Don’t you want to hear what’s in it for you?”

“Not particularly.” The drumming stopped. I fixed him with a look of pure, unadulterated disdain. “Is that all?”

When he said nothing, I reached for the interdesk line to summon Liam to escort him out.

“There’s been an offer sitting on my desk for a private equity buyout in Tokyo,” Michael cut in suddenly. “I’ve been stalling the move for years because of Rachael—”

My finger hovered a millimeter over the button.

“If you give me that pass to the gala, I’ll sign the buyout and leave for Japan permanently,” he continued, staring straight into my eyes. “I’ll never come back.”

“Now this is a first.” I offered him a crooked, cynical smirk. “You’ve spent years relentlessly pursuing her. Why is a single networking event so important to you?”

“I have nothing to disclose to you, Kayes. But I know one thing we both agree on: you want me as far away from Rachael as humanly possible. I’m offering you that guarantee on a silver platter.”

“And if I refuse?” I scoffed. “You think you still stand a chance with her?”

“Well, are you going to take the risk?” Michael snickered, leaning back in the chair. “You know you’d give anything to erase me from her life. Especially with your divorce finalized... How is that whole co-parenting situation working out for you, by the way?”

My fingers curled into a tight, white-knuckled fist on the desk.

How on earth were this man and I ever best friends?

“You’ll hear my answer through my assistant, Barnes,” I growled. “You can leave now.”

He lingered in the seat, totally unfazed. “Come on, Gabe. Don’t you want to catch up like old times? Reminisce about our past... or what our future might have looked like if you hadn't stolen her from me?”

“You see, Michael, that is precisely why you never stood a chance with Rachael,” I said, my voice dangerously low. “You view her as an object—a trophy for us to fight over. She is a human being with her own mind.”

“Well...” He finally stood up, brushing down his suit jacket. I tracked his movements with my eyes, burning a hole straight through him. “I’ve got a few loose ends to tie up before I head overseas to...”

Before he could finish his sentence, the office door swung open, and Amanda walked in.

My stomach sank.

She beamed at me, holding up a brown paper takeout bag. “Figured since you were stuck working on a Saturday, I’d order lunch from your favorite bistro!”

“Hey...” was all I could mutter, frozen in sheer shock.

She walked straight up to my desk, leaning down to press a kiss to my cheek. Setting the bag down, she finally seemed to register that I wasn't alone.

“Oh! How rude of me,” she gasped, turning around and extending a manicured hand toward Michael. “Pleased to meet you. I’ll just wait outside while you two wrap up.”

Michael took her hand, squeezing it gently. A dark, familiar gleam flashed in his eyes as his gaze flicked between Amanda and me.

“Not at all,” Michael said smoothly, lingering a second too long. “I was just leaving.”

My eyes dropped to his hand still wrapped around hers, then snapped up to meet his gaze. The bastard had a cocky, knowing grin playing on his lips “And you are?”

“Amanda Bailey.”

“Amanda. What a beautiful name.”

“Out,” I barked.

He raised both hands in mock surrender, stepping backward toward the door. But his eyes kept bouncing between Amanda and me. I hated it. I hated him. And I hated the gut feeling that whatever he was piecing together in his mind was going to end terribly.

The moment the door clicked shut behind him, I turned my attention back to Amanda, who was already making herself comfortable in the now empty chair, pulling out container lids.

“Today was your day off, Amanda,” I said, running two fingers across the bridge of my nose. “You didn't have to come all the way down here.”

“It was supposed to be yours, too!” she countered softly, looking up at me. “I know how much you were looking forward to spending the weekend with Leah, and I just couldn't bear the thought of you sitting in this big office all alone.”

“I’m fine,” I muttered, reaching for my phone on the desk. “I was planning to head straight home after the meeting anyway.”

Amanda set down a wrapped sandwich, standing up and walking around the desk until she was standing directly between my legs.

“Well, I was thinking...” She reached out, drawing a single finger slowly down the front of my shirt, her head tilting as an unreadable expression crossed her eyes. “Why don’t we spend the afternoon together? I only have a week left before I move back into my own apartment. Let’s make the most of it.”

I unlocked my phone screen under her gaze.

No text from Rachael.

The silence from her was deafening.

I set my phone face-down onto the desk, my hands moving to grip Amanda’s hips, pulling her flush against me.

“What do you suggest?” I murmured.

Amanda’s face lit up. She quickly pulled out her own phone, tapping the screen. “You know my best friend, Brittany, usually goes to play tennis with Josh, at this club downtown on Saturdays. They invited us to join them!”

She turned the screen toward me, showing an I* page for an upscale athletic club in the city center.

I dug my tongue into the inside of my cheek, staring at the screen.

“Brittany and Josh?”

“Yeah,” Amanda added quickly. “We had drinks with them a while back. Her husband, Josh, owns that lounge on 5th, remember?”

Of course I remembered.

I’m just overthinking it, I tried to tell myself. There’s no way.

Why on earth would Amanda happen to suggest the exact m tennis club where Rachael played every single Saturday afternoon?

My eyes darted back to the black phone screen sitting dead on the desk. I wrapped my arms around Amanda’s waist, pulling her in as she let out a laugh.

“I remember,” I murmured, my voice devoid of emotion. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go.”