Page 30 of Miss Manage

He paused, and I immediately amended, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be intrusive.”

“No, it’s okay.” His voice was quiet. “He was in Iraq and Afghanistan. He’s dealing with some PTSD issues. This weekend was the first time he really opened up to me and Nic about it.”

“I’m glad he did.”

“Me, too.”

“You mentioned Leo lives in Vegas?”

“He does, yes. Dominic travels there but mostly stays here in San Diego.” He sat back sipping his own bottle of water. “Did you grow up here?”

“Not exactly. My father was in the navy while I was growing up, so we moved a few times. It wasn’t until high school that we finally settled here, at his last duty station. Then he transitioned to civilian medicine.”

“And your mom, how is she?”

This time I smiled for real. “She’s good. Keeps herself busy in her retirement community. If there’s a social event within a fifty-mile radius, she’s attending. She’s always been a wonderful mother and grandmother.”

The conversation provided a welcome path back to reality.

Eventually, I stood, meaning only to stretch my legs, but Gabriel rose, too. Too close. Closer than employee and boss should ever be. The shift of air between us felt charged. My balance tipped ever so slightly toward him as if my body was making the choice before my mind could intervene.

For a breathless instant, I caught the hesitation, temptation, and something magnetic in his eyes. My pulse leapt, traitorous, when the thought hit me. What if he leaned in? What if he closed the space and I let him?

His throat cleared, the sound sharp in the quiet, and he stepped back. The air cooled instantly between us, and I told myself the moment had only occurred because of shock and exhaustion.

“We should go,” he urged softly.

I blew out a breath, trying to calm my heartbeat. “Yeah. We should.”

We drove to the hospital in a silence I didn’t mind. It gave me time to steady myself and regain enough composure to handle a call from the McMillion brothers.

The brothers sounded nonchalant, as if nothing extraordinary had happened at all. For them, they were simply getting another update on a minor corporate situation. For me, it had been the longest, hardest day of my life. Their lack of concern nagged at me, but I didn’t have time to dissect it because the hospital came into view, and Gabriel made quick work out of finding a parking spot.

Gabriel didn’t say a word until we climbed out of the car. “I’ll drive you home after we’re done here.”

“It’s fine, I can take an Uber.”

His jaw ticced and his eyes were steady on mine. “It wasn’t a question, Charlotte. Just let me do this, please.”

For a moment, the instinct to push back rose, a reflex born from years of proving I didn’t need help. But who was I to argue in this moment? Gabriel had already done so much, and we’d built something resembling trust. Fragile maybe, but I was humble enough to admit I needed it.