Conflict of Interest (Employee Relations Book 1) (31 page)

It’s then that I notice that she’s wearing a black pencil skirt and a white silk blouse with a faded pink pattern. “Hot date?” I ask, cringing at that thought. “Chris decide he’s ready to be a dad?”

“Very funny, but no. He won’t answer my calls and I’d be willing to bet he starts getting his coffee somewhere else.” She sets out the food and I busy myself to hide the annoyance that she called him. “It’s a family thing. I told you last night that my family owns a restaurant in the North End, right?” I nod. “Well, every Sunday for as long as I can remember we shut down at 4 o’clock and have a huge family dinner. I’m talking cousins and aunts and uncles. It’s great.”

She lights up when she talks about her family. It’s obvious they’re important to her the way a family is supposed to be.

I take a paper plate from the table, hand it to Gabriella when it’s filled with pizza and salad. She accepts it and turns to look at the progress I’ve made. I watch her every move as she pads across the floor, taking her time on each scenario.

Gabriella finally turns to me and smiles. “I’m impressed.”

I can’t help smiling in return. “You are?”

“Don’t be so surprised. You’re brilliant.” She walks back to one chart and points at it with her pizza. “I like this idea best. It’ll give you the opportunity to delegate more.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” I agree.

“Can I suggest a minor tweak?”

“What do you have in mind?”

Over the next several hours we walk through a few options not only for the structure of my organization, but also for my plans to get a more global experience when it comes to understanding customers.

She steps back and looks at the final version. “This is good. If you can do this successfully I have no doubt you’ll earn that SVP title.”

I watch her thoughtfully. “You wouldn’t support me getting that promotion today?” I ask already knowing her response.

“Based on your experience I don’t think you’re ready.” I open my mouth to defend myself when she stops me by placing her hand on my arm. “That doesn’t mean you aren’t capable,” she continues. “I believe in you. Oh, I almost forgot.”

Gabriella scampers across the room and pulls a box out of the bag she carried in earlier. She flips the lights off and turns around with a small chocolate cake and walks toward me singing ‘
happy birthday’
as a small LED candle flickers in its center. Singing is not her forte but she makes it work and it’s the kindest thing anyone has done for me in a long time. I haven’t celebrated my birthday in almost a decade, aside from my 21
^st
with Ki.

She stops a foot in front of me. “Make a wish.”

I laugh and blow out the fake candle and blink when it goes out. “Remote control,” she says holding it up. “Sorry it’s not real, I didn’t want to set off the alarms.”

I ignore the tightening in my chest that’s begun happening more often and nod. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

For your help. For making me smile. For believing in me.
“This weekend.”

“We make a good team, Lucas.”

I glance at my watch needing a diversion. “What time did you say your dinner was?”

“I should be there between 5 and 6 o’clock. Why?”

“Then you better get going,” I tell her. “It’s nearly four-thirty.”

“Oh crap.” She scrambles to put her coat on and searches for one of her shoes.

Christ she’s disorganized.

I spot the missing shoe under the table and fetch it for her. She takes it from my hand and steadies her hand on my arm as she bends her leg behind her to slip it on. She teeters a bit and fists my shirt to keep her balance. I grab her hips to steady her only to be zapped by a jolt of chemistry.

“Wait, we didn’t get to eat your cake.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Once her shoes are on and both feet are back on solid ground, I release her and back away. I turn to clean up the left over pizza and toss it into the trash at the opposite end of the conference room.

“I have a great idea. If you don’t have any plans you should come with me,” Gabriella offers.

“I don’t want to impose on time with your family.”

“Do you have plans for dinner?”

“Not at the moment.”

“Then it’s settled. No one should be alone on their birthday. Promise it’ll be the best Italian food you’ve ever had.”

Twenty some people fill the restaurant, ranging in age from infant to ancient. All eyes turn to Gabriella and me as we enter the back room. One incredibly long table that must be made up of at least six smaller ones is the focal piece. Each person she passes embraces her and kisses her on the cheek as if they’ve gone years without seeing each other, rather than a week. It warms my heart and makes me jealous at the same time.

“Who’s your friend?” a guy bearing a strong resemblance to Gabriella asks.

“This,” she says, pulling me forward. “Is my co-worker Lucas. He’s just moved here from New York City. Lucas, this is my brother, Vincent.”

I extend my hand. “The doctor. Good to meet you.”

A young girl pulls on Gabriella’s skirt and leaps into her arms when she bends down. “And this little monkey is Francesca.”

I nod. “Pleased to meet you.”

She giggles and tosses her head forward sending an abundance of tiny dark curls to cascade over her face. “What’s so funny?” Gabriella asks tickling Francesca’s belly.

The little girl cups her hand over Gabriella’s ear and all but shouts, “He talks funny.”

“Moppet,” her father warns. “It’s not polite to pick on someone.”

“Well its true,” she loudly whispers and I can’t help but laugh.

“You’re right, I do talk funny,” I agree. “I’m not from here.”

“New York City. I know. Does everyone from there sound like you?”

“Not exactly.”

Gabriella steps in. “Lucas was born in a far away place called Ireland. “

“Ooooh.” Francesca’s eyes get a mystical twinkle. “Where’s that?”

“Across the ocean.”

“Do they have castles there?”

“As a matter of fact they do,” I inform her.

“Show me, show me!” she demands, practically jumping out of her father’s arms with excitement.

“Maybe later, Francesca. We’re about to sit for dinner.”

She sags. “No fair Daddy.” She squirms till he sets her down and scampers off.

“Cute,” I tell Gabriella’s brother.

He releases an exaggerated sigh. “Most of the time.”

Gabriella snakes her arm in mine, ushering me through the room for introductions to her family, half of who’s names I can’t recall by the time we’re done.

“Lucas, would you like to say grace?” Gabriella’s father asks when everyone’s seated.

“Uh—”

“He’s kidding,” Gabriella reassures me, taking my hand in hers.

Everyone closes their eyes and listens as her father leads grace; everyone that is but me. I’m too mesmerized by Gabriella’s small hand resting in mine. It feels right. I shake that thought off and look up, sensing I have someone’s attention, to find Gabriella’s mother smiling at me with gentleness.

Confused, I smile back and close my eyes just in time to hear, “Amen.”

Toward the tail end of dinner I excuse myself. I don’t really need the restroom, more like breathing room. Gabriella’s family is nice but the sheer amount of them is overwhelming.

Inside the bathroom I lean against the counter, giving myself a hard look in the mirror. I’ve spent weeks ignoring her, believing that I wasn’t myself around her, when in reality I’m starting to feel like who I used to be before. It’s terrifying.

On my way back to the dining area I note all the pictures on the walls, black and white framed photos that are family rather than generic, as I recognize several people in the pictures. One picture in particular catches my eye. A young Gabriella holding up a rock and grinning from ear to ear.

“Now that’s a funny story,” Gabriella says, joining me. “When I was five years old I wanted a pet so bad, I must have begged my parents on a daily basis. My brothers got so sick of it they came up with a plan, said I had to prove I was ready to care for a living creature, and to practice they gave me a pet rock. I took that thing everywhere and would report back to them with details of its day. I ate it up.” She sighs dramatically. “I never got the damn dog but I vowed to myself that if I did I would name it Rock.”

Gabriella links her arm through mine and leads me back into the dining room. Halfway to the table Gabriella’s grandmother intercepts me.

“Hello,” I say, wondering if I should reintroduce myself or what the protocol is.

“Don’t play coy with me young man. You promised me a dance and I’m here to collect.”

“Oh, Grandma. This is Lucas.” Gabriella gives me an apologetic look. I mouth to her that it’s fine.

“About time,” I tell her grandmother. “Lead the way.”