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‘I can help out there.’
‘I think they’d rather have your input than your money. Oh, I don’t mean come back home to live. But they miss you.’ She grinned at him. ‘Talk about the prodigal son. If you get this kind of reaction after a few weeks in London I can’t imagine what your mother feeds Celine when she comes home.’
‘A full fatted calf.’ He looked over at her. ‘What did they say?’
A flush rose on her cheeks. She didn’t want Gabe to think she’d been talking about him, probing for secrets and tales. But his family had been all too eager to share stories with her.
Almost as if she were his girlfriend, not his boss.
A wave of longing swept through her as unexpected as it was unwelcome. What would it be like to be welcomed into the bosom of a family such as this? To be part of a large, loving, chaotic throng? To have a place around the enormous scrubbed pine table that dominated the kitchen? To know your steps in the carefully choreographed dance of a family meal. Even Mathilde and Jean had gone straight to a drawer to collect and fold napkins. The sons-in-law were kept busy fetching and carrying.
Polly alone had had no role. The guest, set apart.
‘They said you don’t come home enough but they understand that you’re busy.’ Polly chose her words carefully. ‘That as they look at expanding it would be good to have your input, only they know how it’s hard for you to get away.’
Their eyes followed him everywhere, their need echoing out. They adored him, would absorb him back in if he gave them the chance. Polly could see how it smothered him, why he stayed away even as she wondered what it would be like, to be loved so comprehensively.
‘Papa often talks about expanding.’ Gabe was dismissive. ‘Yet, he never does.’
‘He might do if you were there to talk it through with him.’ Polly could hear the tart note in her voice but didn’t try to rein it in. ‘Your sisters are specialists, great at what they do but very focused. You however are trained in managing the bigger picture. You should give him some time beyond a morning jog.’
There was a pained silence. ‘One day here and you’re the expert on my family.’
Words of apology rose to her lips but she swallowed them back. ‘I don’t need to be an expert. It’s completely plain to anyone with eyes. I’m not saying move back home, but you could talk his plans through with him, advise him.’
‘Maybe.’
‘I know you needed to get away—and you did, you created a life away from them. Well...’ she considered him ‘...you created a career away from them.’
Gabe’s mouth was set tight, a muscle pulsing in his jaw. ‘I don’t see the distinction.’
‘I know,’ she said sadly. ‘You and I are birds of a feather. We think success at work, achieving career goals is all that matters, all that defines us. But, Gabe, I had nothing else. The only approval I ever got was work-related—and I begrudged it. But you? You could announce you were giving it all up tomorrow to go back and, I don’t know, create art out of vine leaves and they would still welcome you home and support you all the way.’
His mouth twitched. ‘Art out of vine leaves?’
‘It might be a thing.’
He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, his eyes set on the road ahead. Polly sat back in her seat, losing herself in the vibrant scenery. What must it be like to grow up surrounded by so much colourful beauty?
‘Why does it matter to you?’ His words were so unexpected it took a moment for Polly to comprehend them.
‘Why does what matter?’ But she knew what he meant.
‘My family, my place there.’
Her cheeks heated. ‘It doesn’t mean a thing to me personally,’ she said. ‘But I like your parents, your sisters. It seems a shame, that’s all. I like you...’ Her words hung there. Polly wanted to grab them, take them back.
But they were out there. So she might as well be completely honest. ‘I like you,’ she said again. In for a penny, she thought.
‘I’m not keen on the workaholic who flirts with my assistant, the smell of those smoothies would turn my stomach even if I wasn’t pregnant and I have very strong, negative views on people who turn up to work in Lycra cycling shorts.’ Even if they did look as good as on Gabe. You had to have good legs to pull off the tightly fitting shorts. Gabe rocked them.
Some staff members had taken to standing near the staff entrance when he came back from his lunch time bike ride.
‘Don’t spare my feelings.’ But there was a quirk at the side of his mouth as he tried to hide a reluctant smile.
