It was the best thing he could’ve done. Unsettled and frustrated by Katarina’s call, I would’ve been off my game. By assuming that Joshua’s loss meant anything but a victory for me, Gabe had helped buy me valuable time to prepare.
He was so perfect, it was hard for me to breathe. Was this what it felt like to care about another human being? It was almost painful.
I pulled back as if struck by lightning, suddenly desperate to have space between us.
He gave me a sad smile and gestured toward his desk. “I have a few things I want to take care of today before I leave, so if you want to head out, I’ll finish up here.” He paused, biting his lower lip. “I’m sorry. I should’ve asked you about canceling appointments first. I just thought it would be the best thing. I’m sorry if I overstepped.”
I dismissed his worries with a wave of my hand. “Canceling the appointments was the right thing to do. Next time, ask me first.” I gave a short laugh. “Well, let’s hope there isn’t a next time. I’m not too keen on having detectives knocking on my door.”
“What do you want me to do if they come back or call before I leave?”
“Tell them I have the card.” My fingers twitched. I was dying to reach out to him but stopped myself. It’s not the time. I repeated the mantra, unsettled by my conflicting feelings. This was a first for me. “As far as they know, I’m your boss and nothing more, so they won’t expect you to do more than pass the information along, right?”
“Right.” He nodded and gave me a smile I could tell was forced. “If they call, I’ll let them know you got their message.”
“I really appreciate your quick thinking there. It would’ve been difficult to deal with them yesterday. It’s nice to know I can trust you to act quickly and decisively.”
“Thank you.”
I stood there for a moment, wanting to say something more, but not wanting to ruin the moment. We were closer, more in tune with each other than we’d ever been before. “I think you’re right. I’m going to call it a day.”
“What about tomorrow and Friday’s appointments?”
“If you can move them to next week, do that.” I lifted one shoulder, imitating the gesture Gabe used often. “Otherwise, I think canceling them is best.”
“What should I tell them?”
“Tell them?” I pursed my lips. “I guess you can tell them I’m feeling under the weather. Use your best judgment. They’re not owed an explanation. They won’t be charged.”
He nodded. “I’ll take care of that right away, and I’ll see you Monday.”
“Don’t feel like you have to stay. I can see this death has been traumatic for you. Take time to grieve.”
“I will.”
I lingered for a few minutes, dumping my cold coffee down the sink and rinsing the cup. Gabe was already on the phone with the first cancelation when I walked out the door, mentally planning my day. Calling the detective from the car seemed like the best thing to do. If Gabe was right, it would be a quick conversation, and I’d have it over with before I pulled into my driveway across town.
Satisfied with that plan, I unlocked my car door. I had one foot on the floorboard as I glanced at the passenger seat, where I always laid my laptop and bag. For an instant, I was sure I’d left them at home, then I remembered the forlorn look on Gabe’s face and the strap of my laptop bag sliding down my arm as I laid my things in the lobby. Somehow, I’d completely forgotten them.
Locking my car, I hurried through the parking lot and into the elevator, then down the wide hallway that led to my suite of offices. The doorknob jammed when I turned it. He’d locked the door already.
I fished the keys out of my pocket and slid the office one home, turning the handle and entering.
My things were where I’d left them, but Gabe wasn’t in the lobby. Curious, I peeked down the hallway, expecting to see light coming from beneath the bathroom door. If he’d needed to step away from the lobby, it was smart to lock the door. Otherwise, people could come in and take whatever they wanted. But it wasn’t the gap beneath the bathroom door spilling light across the carpet in the dark hallway. It was my office.
Careful not to alert him, I made my way down the corridor quietly. The door to my office was ajar, the tiny crack wide enough for him to hear someone knocking on the lobby door, but only if they were loud. I could see the white of his button-down shirt as he shifted, much too close to my private computer for comfort.
I used the toe of my shoe to push the door wider, my gaze locked on him.
He gasped when he looked up, lips parting in shock, eyes wide. In his hand, he held a scrapbook I recognized instantly. It was the book in which I’d placed my mementos from my weeklong getaway the month before, the one I’d luckily not finished filling. If memory served me, I’d printed off the last of the photos and shoved them in my desk drawer, meaning and forgetting to add the final photos to the scrapbook.
We stood on opposite sides of the room, frozen in place.
The ticking of the clock seemed to slow and fade away completely as I focused on the sound of my own heartbeat filling my ears.
Gabe stayed behind the desk, scrapbook clutched
