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The same goes for Alistair Black, the second name partner of the firm. He and I aren’t close like I am with Taylor, but he is engaged to my good friend Eloise. And again, I would have absolutely used that to weasel my way out of this.
Except the banishment to the Siberia of the sub-basement storage stacks wasn’t decreed by Taylor or Alistair.
This would be his doing.
Gabriel Black.
The three name partners of Crown and Black all seem to fit very specific roles. Taylor is the warm and welcoming one. She’s the lawyer who’s going to hold your hand and guide you across that finish line while the crowd cheers.
If warmth and compassion isn’t your style, there’s Alistair, who’s more of a mad dog on a short leash type of attorney. Aggressive, loud, and supremely cocky, Alistair will come out swinging like Mike Tyson when he’s in your corner.
That brings us to Gabriel, and he’s the tricky one to define. I say that because there seems to be two distinctly different opinions on Gabriel Black.
Opinion number one, which is held by almost every person on earth who ever meets him: he’s a golden god. He’s Atticus Finch come to life—a champion of the underdog. A fighter for the people. Charming but reserved. Surgical and precise in his understanding of the law, with an ability to win almost every case he’s ever had.
But then there’s opinion number two, which is?—
“He creeps me out.”
Cassidy rolls her eyes at Felix. “That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said. Never repeat that.”
“What?” Felix shrugs. “The guy’s a control freak. No one is that precise with life. Dude’s a psychopath. Back me up here, Fumi.”
As a rule, I make a point of not “siding” with Felix on anything if I can help it. At least, not publicly. But in this case?
…I mean, he’s not entirely wrong.
I feel like a lunatic for even thinking it. But there’s something about Gabriel that makes the back of my neck tingle. It’s like he’s too perfectly in balance. Too in control. Too?—
“He’s hot as fuuuuuck,” Cassidy giggles. “Don’t be jealous now, Felix.”
Felix scowls. I pointedly ignore the way his eyes swivel to me.
Like I said, he’s not entirely wrong. There is something about Gabriel that drags a cold blade down my spine, especially on the few occasions we’ve been alone together, even if it was just riding the elevator up to the office.
He intrigues me. He speaks to me, even if he doesn’t ever actually literally speak to me. It’s like there’s this darkness behind his charm and good-guy persona that sneaks over my walls and sinks dark claws into my most private thoughts. And yes, a lot of that is definitely because?—
“Hot. As. Fuck,” Cassidy groans. “Y’all, I would let that man do unspeakable things to me. Right, Fumi?”
I don’t say anything, partly because I can still feel Felix’s eyes on me and I’m not that heartless. But I do feel the corners of my lips curl up.
Yeah, no arguments here.
He might be a cold, calculating legal machine. And he might be so much of a robotic control freak that we have a little nickname for him behind his back. But I’m on Team Cassidy with this one: Gabriel is gorgeous.
And rich. And successful. And, of course, my boss. As such, he remains and will forever remain a forbidden fantasy. Even though he might…okay, does… give me a little dose of the shivers.
“Fumi,” Felix grins at me. “Do the voice.”
I wrinkle my nose. “I… Nah, I’m good.”
“Oh, come on!” Cassidy laughs. “It’s fucking hilarious!”
It started as something I just did in my head, or to myself when I was alone; especially if I’d had a “Gabriel run-in” that day. Because of his coldly robotic surgical precision and his control freak ways, I started mocking him in private using a robot voice which I dubbed “Mr. Roboto” in a hat tip to the old 80s song.
Then I got drunk at happy hour one night with these two and accidentally let it out. Since then, they hound me all the time to hear it.
“I don’t like doing it at work, guys.”
