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Genuinely enjoying each other’s company.
It’s an evolution that scares me a little; honestly, I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to enjoy it before that happens.
The waitstaff clears our plates and brings out the next course. Gabriel makes a big show of drawing out a loud “mmmm,” with his eyes closed ecstatically as he takes a bite.
“Your turn,” he growls through a million-watt smile. He forks a huge bite of his filet mignon with red wine shallot reduction and grins as he reaches across the table with it. I smile—genuinely and for the cameras—as I take a bite. As I do, some of the phenomenal sauce drips off my chin and splatters down the front of the light blue and white dress I’m wearing.
I hiss under my breath and reach for a napkin, but Gabriel’s already up and out of his seat. He dips his own napkin in his water glass and starts to dab at the stain on my dress. It takes us both a second to realize that he’s basically pawing my breasts right in front of the cameras.
He doesn’t stop. He just turns and grins, shrugging with the expertly practiced “sheepish but charming” look I’ve seen him use on judges and juries. Outside, the paparazzi eat it up, because paparazzi. Only Gabriel could turn helping me into basically feeling me up, and then make it look cutely and cheekily chivalrous to the cameras.
“Why don’t you come to the ladies’ room with me, Fumi?”
I blink, turning rapidly to see Meredith standing there.
“I’ll help you get cleaned up.”
I glance at Gabriel, who nods and sits back in his seat.
“Yeah, okay. Sure.”
I frown as I follow Meredith through the restaurant toward the ladies’ room. It’s not that I don’t like her at this point. It’s just that literally every encounter we’ve had since I’ve met her indicates that she sure as shit doesn’t like me.
Whatever.
So I’m curious and maybe a little suspicious when we step into the bathroom and she starts tapping away on her phone.
“You can go ahead and take the dress off. The replacement will be here?—”
There’s a knock at the door. When Meredith opens it, another woman from her team smiles as she passes her a garment bag. Meredith turns back to me and unzips the bag to reveal an identical dress to the one I just spilled the sauce on.
“Really? I’m impressed.”
She shrugs as I take the bag and slip into one of the stalls to change. “It’s dinner. Things happen.”
“Thank you,” I call through the door as I slip out of the stained dress. “I mean, I know it’s your job, working for Gabriel. But I know you don’t really…I mean, you know?—”
“I actually really like you, Fumi.”
I pause, my brows lifting.
“What?”
“Like, a lot.”
I slip on the new dress and open the stall door. Meredith lifts her shoulders dismissively as I look at her curiously.
“I know I’m cold and harsh sometimes, but I have to be. You don’t survive in this job unless you are, especially as a woman.” Her lips curl a little at the corners into what I realize with shock might be Meredith’s version of a smile.
“I know you probably don’t think so, but I really like you, Fumi. And I like you with Gabriel.”
“Because the focus groups approve?” I grin.
She smirks. “Well, yes. But so do I. You complement him. You’re smart and think on your feet. And you keep him on his toes, which keeps him sharp, which in turn will get him elected.”
“Well…thanks,” I smile, my face burning a little. “I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome,” she replies crisply. “Quite honestly, you’re one of the best things that could have happened to his campaign, and to him.”
