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Gabriel looks speechless for a minute and then puzzled.
Feeling empowered by the fact that I took his words from him—when less than an hour ago he had so much to say—I take a step forward.
"I didn't want to do this," I say, looking him dead in the eye. "But you left me no choice. I came to you first, to give you a chance to do the right thing. I thought we could solve this amicably, but you wouldn't even consider being neighborly. I'm sorry it had to come to this, but it is what it is. Now, if you'll excuse me, I was getting ready for bed before you knocked on my door."
His foot kicks forward, keeping the door from closing. I open it again, frowning.
"Is there something else I can help you with?"
"This is no way to make friends," he says.
My eyes take him in—a deliberate sweep from head to toe. "Friends, I see the kind of friends you have, no thanks. Isn’t that why you throw parties anyway, so you can feel “popular”."
A look of triumph crosses my face when he moves back, and I slam the door in his face.
One. Two. Three. I count to three and breathe my heart racing and my hands are shaking.
"Geez!" I place my hand on my chest as sweat beads break across my forehead. "That was intense."
And unlike me.
I've lived my whole life being non-confrontational. I'm not timid, I just avoid conflict. I've been known to take the path of least resistance, as they say.
Yet something about this man, Gabriel, just seems to get my blood boiling. Making him wait and dishing out the smartass comebacks was not part of the plan when I moved in.
It does feel good, though.
And in the future, I'll do my best to avoid him altogether.
But for now, it’s Harper, 1. Gabriel, 0.
Chapter 2
Gabriel
"You trust me, don't you?" Caleb says as he pulls back the chair and sits down, crossing his legs.
"I do," I reply, skimming through the pages of the document in front of me. "But you have to be certain that the person you decide on isn't someone I have to put a leash on because they don't understand what an NDA is."
He laughs. "I understand, but you have a hard time trusting anybody, Gabriel. Everyone thinks you are this fun-loving, light-hearted man, but you are just a grumpy thirty-year-old who thinks nothing will go according to plan if he isn't the one making the plan.”
“Then you don't communicate why you want to do things a particular way, leaving me in the dark and left scrambling to cover for you."
I shrug, losing interest in the content of the document. I make a mental note to rewrite the things that don't sit well with me before giving Caleb my full attention.
"Why should I give anyone an explanation? It's my company, isn't it? And I make changes as I see fit. Either they trust that I know what is best for what I built, or they don't."
Caleb tutts.
"Gabriel Everhart, billionaire playboy and CEO of one of the largest tech companies in the country," he says, standing and adjusting the lapels of his jacket. "You are not living up to your image."
I glare at him.
"I would give anything to be somewhere else, but guess who decided that they would go ahead and hire a cybersecurity specialist without my knowledge, schedule a meeting, and then inform me about it just hours before the meeting?"
He grins and points to himself. "Guilty as charged."
"Damn right, you are," I say, not letting him off the hook. "I have a half-mind to let you sit through this meeting alone—"
