You Again

by Val Tobin

  So, why hadn’t he?

  Because the fiancé deception had worked. The moment he heard it, he reacted with jealous rage and wanted to lash out at Ellen to soothe his bruised ego. If she’d married another man and started a family with him, Gabriel didn’t want to know about it. Denying he’d wanted to find her again helped him avoid the grief he felt at losing her to someone else. As far as Katrina getting Gabriel for herself, if that had been the point of all this, it worked: he’d started dating her. She’d been more than happy to reconnect with him as soon as he returned. She’d called him, as a matter of fact, the day after he’d settled back into his apartment.

  He never even asked her how she knew he was back. Didn’t think about how quickly she’d found him. Didn’t ask her what she knew about Ellen, who never bothered to keep tabs on him the way Katrina had. But then, Ellen had her own reasons for wanting to forget his very existence.

  His assistant buzzed him then, ripping him from his reveries, and told him Ellen had arrived for their meeting. A moment after he gave permission to send her in, there was a tap at his door. When it opened, she entered, wearing a tailored navy pantsuit with a blouse in pale pink. Her hair cascaded in loose curls over her shoulders. He’d always loved it when she wore it down like that. She often tied it back when she worked, which accentuated her high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes, but he loved to see those tresses loose and flowing.

  Christ, if I don’t control myself, I’m going to grab her and kiss her, and she’ll file a sexual harassment complaint against me.

  He rose to greet her, and she smiled shyly as she shut the door behind her.

  Lock it popped into his head, but instead of vocalizing it and embarrassing himself, he pressed the intercom button and asked his assistant to get them coffee. The prospect of the devout Catholic Mrs. Carbajal catching them in a passionate clench should keep him in line.

  “How are you?” Ellen asked. She seated herself in one of the two chairs in front of his desk and crossed her legs. She set her laptop bag next to the chair.

  “I’m fine. Did you have a good weekend? How was the party?” Did you sleep with your date?

  “Good. I managed to avoid any romantic entanglements with anyone—for the most part.”

  He froze, his mind going blank. “For the most part?”

  She beamed a smile at him. “My date let me know he might be interested in more than that.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  She waved a hand dismissively. “No promises. We’ll see where it goes.”

  He scowled. Is this retribution for my date with Katrina? If it was, he could handle it. There’d be no more dates with Katrina—not if he could get Ellen to agree she’d have no more dates, even fake ones, with her mystery man.

  Ellen’s expression grew serious then, and a sinking sensation in his gut heralded she had news he didn’t want to hear. He waited her out with bated breath.

  “I need to ask you something,” she began.

  “Shoot.” He leaned back in his chair, folded his hands in his lap, and crossed his legs at the ankles, a display of nonchalance he didn’t feel.

  “You said someone told you I was engaged. Who was it?”

  “A friend.” He refused to reveal his source. She’d get angry with Carl, and that wouldn’t help anyone. “Why?”

  Ellen blinked, and her lips parted in surprise. “Why wouldn’t I want to know who spread lies about me?”

  “What difference does it make? That happened last year,” he said. “I asked about you when I returned to BRI and discovered you’d left. Someone said you’d quit when you got engaged.”

  “And you believed it.”

  Gabriel sat up, his back rigid. “Why would someone make that up?” But he knew—or at least suspected.

  “That’s an excellent question—one I’d like answered, which is why you need to tell me who told you.”

  He met her gaze steadily. “One of the marketing clients. He said he heard it from one of the programmers. Couldn’t recall who.”

  She frowned, but her expression was more puzzled than angry. “How the hell would a rumour like that even start? I gave my notice, trained Fran, and left. I never told anyone I was leaving to get married. What the hell would getting engaged have to do with me quitting my job even if it was true?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t understand it either. Let’s drop it, okay? My marketing buddy said she left the company anyway.” Another fact that pointed the finger in Katrina’s direction.

  A tap sounded on the door. It opened, and Mrs. Carbajal peeked into the room. “Your coffee, Mr. Duncan.”

  Relieved by the interruption, Gabriel waved her in. He’d take the few minutes she used to serve the coffee and think about how to handle Ellen. Somehow, he had to turn this around. Now, more than ever, he determined to take her home at the end of the day. He refused to have their one night together be their only night together.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The stunned look on Gabriel’s face when she told him the date she’d invited to her parents’ party wanted more than a pretend relationship gratified her. Sure, the stunt was immature, but sometimes, a tiny vengeance was better than no vengeance. She didn’t intend to hurt Gabriel, just to make him feel as if she were as in demand as he was. If she poked him, she could force him to reveal how serious he was with Katrina Weever.

  As the name flashed through Ellen’s mind, her eyes narrowed. Katrina was not right for Gabriel. If he no longer wanted Ellen, she could get over that, but not if he moved on from her to Katrina Weever.

  Ellen couldn’t say exactly what about the software developer made her insides churn, she just knew the woman would make Gabriel miserable in the long run. In truth, Ellen wanted him to be happy even if it couldn’t be with her, and he would never be happy with someone like Katrina.

  When Mrs. Carbajal left the room again, Ellen picked up the coffee the assistant had served her and sipped. She considered helping herself to a cookie from a mounded plate of them, but she left them untouched. A protracted silence blanketed the room, and she allowed it to stretch. She needed Gabriel to be the one to break it. How else would she learn his priorities, learn what he wanted from her?

  Gabriel, who’d also picked up his coffee and sipped it, set his cup and saucer down and caved. “All right. How do we resolve this?”

  What does that mean? Ellen set her cup and saucer down and replied, “Resolve what?”

  He scowled. “Come on, Ellen, you know what I mean. This ridiculous game we’re both playing.”

  “What do you expect from me, Gabe?”

  “Nothing you’re not willing to give. Honesty would be a nice start.”

  “Honesty.” She rose and paced the room. “That’s swell coming from you.” She whirled on him. “How are things with Katrina?”

  Smugness flashed across his face, so fleetingly she wasn’t sure she’d interpreted it correctly.

  “Katrina’s fine. I went out with her three, maybe four, times.”

  Ellen halted her pacing and glared at him. “How long have you been back in the country?”

  “About a year.”

  So, he and Katrina had gone out as much as four times in the past roughly twelve months. Not too frequently to indicate the relationship was serious but enough to show an interest in her on his part. Katrina had had a thing for him three years ago. The realization dawned on Ellen that Katrina was likely the mystery gossip. It made sense. A risky, immature stunt like that was more likely to come from someone in her twenties who suffered from a raging crush.

  “Okay. You didn’t have a serious relationship in England or you wouldn’t be seeing Katrina,” Ellen observed. She vocalized it even though she risked making herself vulnerable to him by doing so. “How serious are you and Katrina?”

  “Not at all serious. The last time we parted company, I told her I didn’t want to lead her on—that I just wanted to be friends.”

  “Ouch. Did you say ‘it’s not you, it�
�s me’? That’s a classic.”

  He gave her a stricken look and rose from his chair. “I didn’t want to hurt her, but I’m not interested in a serious relationship with her.” He strode out from behind his desk to stand in front of Ellen. Before she could react, he took her hands in his. “Ever since we ran into each other in Carol’s office, I’ve thought about you constantly. I can’t sleep for thinking about you. How’s that for honest? You can’t deny you feel something for me still. We had something special, and I still feel it.”

  She tugged on her hands, but he held them firmly in his.

  “Answer me. If you can say you feel nothing for me, that you don’t want to have anything to do with me, I’ll release you, and we’ll keep our relationship professional.”

  Ellen’s heart pounded. She wanted to give him another chance—craved it like she craved food right now. “Did you sleep with her?”

  “It’s my business if I had, but no, we never slept together. It’s been three years since I’ve slept with anyone.”

  She’d been his last partner. Ellen released a sigh along with the tension she’d been holding inside. “I haven’t either.” She hoped that admission would be enough, that he wouldn’t want to question her about John, but, once again, she was disappointed. Gabriel wasn’t about to let her get away with hiding anything from him.

  “This John person. How serious is it? You may not have slept with him, but you’re dating him.”

  She averted her eyes, unable to meet his gaze. “I’m not dating him. He came to the party as my fake date so my parents would get off my back about finding a boyfriend. My mother thinks I’ll be unhappy without one.” Her mother wasn’t too far off the mark. Ellen’s unhappiness wasn’t so much the result of not having a boyfriend as it was the result of not having Gabriel. The revelation hit her like a body slam.

  “You told me he was your date.”

  “Yes, I did.” Her eyes welled up as conflicting emotions flooded through her. Gabriel had abandoned her, and when he returned, he not only didn’t look her up, but he also started dating the woman who’d probably spread rumours about Ellen to keep Gabriel out of her life. That he hadn’t known she’d come between them was irrelevant. She’d manipulated him into sabotaging the best relationship either of them had ever had. She tugged at her hands again, more roughly this time, but he still held them firmly in his grasp.

  “To make me jealous?”

  She remained silent, unsure how to respond to that. Yes, to make you jealous. To make you think you’d lose me. So you’d want to fight for me.

  None of those options made her look good. Admitting any of those things would probably make him sorry he’d started down this path. He’d dump her again.

  “If it helps you, your strategy worked,” he said. “I got good and steamed Saturday night.” With a finger under her chin, he angled her head so their gazes locked. “I didn’t sleep at all.”

  She tried to chuckle, but it sounded more like a hiccough caught on a sob.

  “I was jealous of Katrina,” she admitted. If he’d been willing to expose his ego, the least she could do was match him revelation for revelation. And it allowed her to dodge the original question.

  “Ellen ...” His voice trailed off, but she relished the sound of her name in that husky baritone. It showed her she wasn’t the only one overwhelmed by emotion.

  An ache filled her body, and her lips tingled. Kiss me. But she couldn’t say it out loud. Please kiss me. She pleaded with him with her eyes and parted her lips.

  “Do you feel something for me, Ellen? Answer me, yes or no.”

  “Yes.”

  The moment he heard the word, he drew her into his body. His arms wrapped around her, and his mouth dived to hers. She accepted him with a low moan, tasting him, drawing his breath into her soul.

  She didn’t know how long they kissed, only that, while they did, time stood still and her heart sped up. Their bodies pressed together as if they wanted to fuse, and desire flared up within and through her. Her arms had wrapped around him without her noticing, but now, she moved her hands up along his back, over his shoulders. She slid them into his hair, sifting its softness through her fingers. The need to touch him all over demanded to be satisfied, and she responded to the call.

  Ellen didn’t come up for air until a knock at the door dragged her from the depths with a gasp. Gabriel released her, and she threw herself into her chair. By the time he opened the door to Mrs. Carbajal, Ellen had slowed her breaths though her heart still trip-hammered. Gabriel, looking a little rumpled and flushed, asked his assistant what she wanted.

  “Detective Morris is down in the lobby,” the woman replied, her gaze raking over his mussed hair. “Shall I send him up? He’s asking for Miss Haddigan.”

  “Did you tell him she was here?”

  “Yes, sir. I won’t lie to the police.”

  “I wouldn’t ask you to.” He said it breezily. Ellen sensed a casual rapport between boss and employee that surprised her, considering he hadn’t been the woman’s boss for long.

  Maybe because he was a client here before he became the owner. She remembered joking with him herself within days of their meeting. He’d been a charmer, always.

  “Send him up.”

  Mrs. Carbajal vanished and Gabriel closed the door.

  “If he’s going to question you, I’m going to have him do it here with me.”

  “Are you worried I might say something wrong?”

  He shook his head. “Does it bother you to have me present?”

  “No. I think I’d feel better if you were.” At least, she thought she’d feel better with him here. When the knock sounded on the door, Ellen’s hands gripped the arms of her chair. Suddenly, she didn’t want to talk to the detective at all.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Gabriel let the detective into the room and introduced him to Ellen, who offered her hand and a firm handshake. Mrs. Carbajal returned with a cup and saucer for the detective, poured him a cup of coffee, and left. Morris angled the chair beside Ellen so it faced her and sat in it. Preliminaries done, he established Gabriel wanted to stay in the room and that Ellen agreed to this. Morris got right to the point.

  “Miss Haddigan, I was told by the head of HR you haven’t worked at BRI for almost three years, but when you did, you were the one to train Miss Newton. Is that correct?”

  “Yes. I had nothing to do with hiring her, but I worked with her for the two weeks I remained here after she came on board.”

  “How’d she do?”

  “Fine; otherwise, I’d have let them know they needed to find someone else, and they’d have let her go. She did good work and got up to speed quickly.”

  “Any problems with clients?”

  Ellen didn’t hesitate. “None. She was friendly, good with people. Clients liked and trusted her. She had a knack for getting them to pay their invoices on time. I thought she’d work out well.” She thought back on that time. Was there anything at all that might have alerted her to the possibility of Francesca stealing from the company? She couldn’t think of anything.

  “I understand you’re taking over the financials here once again.”

  “That’s correct.” Ellen glanced at Gabriel. He calmly sipped his coffee, his posture relaxed. She set her cup and saucer on the desk and sat back in her chair. To keep herself from grabbing the plate of cookies, setting it on her thighs, and devouring them all, she folded her hands in her lap.

  “Have you gone through the files yet?”

  Keeping her gaze level, forcing herself not to glance again at Gabriel, she said, “No.” That was true. She’d only logged into the system at By the Books and given the account a cursory review.

  “When will you do that?”

  “That’s why I’m here today. It’ll take me a while to go through everything, and I wanted to do it from here. Francesca would’ve filed hard copies of a lot of the transactions. I need to look at them and make sure they all line up.”

&n
bsp; “How long will that take?” Detective Morris swiped a cream-filled chocolate cookie and ate it in two bites.

  “Weeks, probably. I’m not sure how many. Two might be enough.”

  He contemplated her while he finished chewing. After a moment, he said, “What have you done with the account so far?”

  “I’ve set it up at By the Books so it’s in our system and logged into the financials here remotely. I examined some of it as I went along, but I haven’t done any deep dives into it.” Here’s where he could dig deeper and learn of her suspicions. She didn’t want to keep anything from the police. If he asked, she’d tell the truth.

  “Notice anything odd?”

  “An increase in expenses and payouts to contractors I hadn’t seen before. I can’t say if that’s odd or not. That’s why I have to go through hard copies here. It might be something; it might be nothing.”

  “I see.” He pondered in silence.

  Ellen risked a glance at Gabriel. His gaze remained fixed on the detective, his expression neutral.

  Morris set his cup and saucer down and rose. “I’d like to talk to you again when you’ve reviewed all the files. Would that be all right?” He addressed first Ellen and then Gabriel.

  Gabriel answered him. “Sure. When Ellen has completed her review, I’ll call you myself.”

  They rose. Morris took a business card holder from his pocket and gave them each a card. As he passed it to Gabriel, he said, “In case you lost the other one.” He snatched another cookie from the plate and turned to leave. “If either of you thinks of anything else, please let me know.”

  After the detective left, Gabriel said, “I’ll show you to Francesca’s old office. You can work there.”

  Her expression must have betrayed her hurt and puzzlement, because he moved to her side and said, “We’ll discuss everything after work if you’ll let me take you to dinner.”

  Butterfly wings fluttered in her solar plexus. “Okay.”