by Val Tobin
“Ellen, obviously you’re here because I want to assign you to take charge of BRI’s financials. I know it’s unusual to meet with the client in my office, but there are extenuating circumstances I want to discuss before you dig into their files. Before the buyout, BRI struggled to stay afloat. Expenses weren’t keeping up with income, and in the few weeks before the buyout, they came close to declaring bankruptcy.”
Turning to Gabriel, Ellen asked, “Then why buy them out? Aren’t you just buying their problems?”
“I can turn them around,” he replied smoothly. “When I did my due diligence, I discovered a lot of waste. They should’ve been doing well. It’ll be easy to pull them out of the hole with the backing I have. Snapping them up now allowed me to get them at a bargain and saved the owners from personal bankruptcy. They appreciated the timing.”
“Okay.” She could accept that, but the company’s financial downturn since she’d left continued to astound her. “But they were doing so well. What happened?”
“That’s what you’ll help me figure out. I want to identify every area of waste. They appeared to spend an awful lot of money on consultant fees for a shop that had a full contingent of programmers in-house. They never did that when you worked there. It’s fortunate you’re here.” He paused, then said softly, “I didn’t expect to find you here.”
Captivated by the puzzle before her, Ellen pushed aside the million questions she wanted to ask him and contemplated everything he’d said before the pause. Finally, she spoke. “They never needed to hire overload workers from outside the company. They preferred to hire enough developers so they wouldn’t have to contract out work. Finding experienced software developers is challenging. Getting them up to speed on your software and standards takes time in training. Did they get a sudden influx of projects that required extra hands?”
“Not that I could see.” He shifted in his chair, angling his body toward her. “The extra expenses cropped up shortly after you left.”
She frowned. “You think something’s fishy with the books?”
“That’s what you’ll help me discover.” He smiled, and her heart constricted.
She allowed the anger and bitterness of the last three years to quell her rising desire. “Of course, Mr. Duncan. I’ll do everything I can to get to the bottom of it. Who’s the current controller?”
His brows had risen at “Mr. Duncan,” followed immediately by a smirk he squelched so quickly she almost missed it. When he spoke, it wasn’t to suggest she call him Gabriel—or Gabe, as she used to do. “I let her go. I got rid of extraneous staff as one way to save money.”
When Ellen’s face showed concern, he hurriedly said, “I gave her a more than fair severance package—well above what the law requires. She worked there less than three years, and I’m suspicious of the books. I couldn’t keep her on. I need someone objective to review everything and clean up whatever needs cleaning up. The company should focus on development, not worry about accounting. That’s your company’s specialty. I prefer to turn that kind of thing over to experts.”
She nodded. “I understand. When did you want to get started?”
“As soon as possible. I can have a login account set up for you today.” He rose. “Thank you, Carol, for your time this morning. I’m sure I’ll be more than pleased with the work your company does. If it’s okay, I’ll escort Miss Haddigan”—he squinted at Ellen as he said her name, and when he continued, he spoke directly to her—“to her desk so we can chat about the work she’ll do.”
Ellen ignored the formal use of her name. After all, she’d started it with that Mr. Duncan crack. She was willing to act civil if he was. With a glance at Carol, Ellen said, “I have a bit of time this morning.” She stood.
Carol rose as well and held her hand out to Gabriel. As he clasped and shook it, she said, “That’ll be fine. Ellen has other clients she’s handling, but most of it is routine. She should be able to focus for the next while on your account. I’m sure she’ll help you sort everything out.” She smiled. “Ellen does excellent work. We’re lucky to have her.”
“Yes, I’m sure she’ll do a great job.”
Ellen examined his expression and tone for any sign of sarcasm and found none. She seethed.
Did I mean so little to him he doesn’t care how I feel about what he did to me? Her hands curled into fists, and she had to control the urge to punch him in the gut.
She had to turn this account over to someone else. How could she work with him? But she didn’t want to say anything in front of him. She’d go along with the assignment, remain professional and cool, and then talk to Carol about reassignment after he left.
Settled in her mind that this was the best course of action, Ellen picked up her tablet and calmly led him from Carol’s office and down the hall to her cubicle.
Chapter Five
The shock of coming face to face with the woman who’d broken his heart almost made Gabriel lose his composure in Carol’s office. Almost. He’d had three years to get over her, and he’d done a passable job of it. He’d even started dating again—had a date lined up for that evening, as a matter of fact. But the mere sight of Ellen Haddigan and her doe eyes and hair that looked so soft you wanted to run your fingers through it had him practically hyperventilating. But he played it cool the way she played it cool.
Her calm infuriated him. Of all the women in all the accounting companies in all of Toronto, she had to work at the one he’d hired to do his books. In a flash of practicality, he admitted having her manage the account was a stroke of luck. She was familiar with it and with how the business ran. Logic dictated he keep her on the project, especially since she seemed prepared to let bygones be bygones and keep things professional.
That reminder set his blood boiling again, but he calmed himself with a few even breaths and won his way through the meeting in Carol’s office. He expected the private meeting with Ellen would tax his nerves, but when they stepped through the doorway into the room where she had her desk, he was relieved to see she had a cubicle among two rows of three cubicles each. They wouldn’t be alone. They’d have no chance to get personal. He’d only have to remain detached, stay smooth, and he’d breeze through the discussion unscathed.
She ushered him to a chair and took a seat next to him in front of her computer. The machine was already booted up, which spared him the small talk that typically went with waiting for technology to prep itself. She went immediately to the BRI company website and asked him for access.
He focused his attention on business. If she wanted to play it that way, he’d go along with it, but there’d come a point when they’d have to discuss their history. He’d started falling in love with her, for God’s sake. She owed him the consideration of an explanation for why she not only refused to move to London but also cut off all contact with him.
He’d always told himself he hadn’t loved her. Not yet. Not then. He’d only started to fall for her and had gotten out just in time. Thank God he hadn’t done something stupid like telling her he loved her.
The more his thoughts roamed to the past, the more infuriated he grew until he could barely keep the rage from his voice. His face must’ve betrayed something of what he felt because Ellen stopped talking in the middle of a sentence he hadn’t even heard. A startled expression crossed her face, and she licked her lips and wrung her hands in a display of nerves he’d not seen from her today.
“What is it?” she asked.
Wrong way to open the conversation. Gabriel scowled. When he spoke, he kept his voice low and discreet, but even he heard the menace in his tone. “What could possibly be wrong? Miss Haddigan. That’s correct, isn’t it? Miss?”
She swallowed, her throat bobbing and giving a little click as she did. “Yes. I mean, you can call me Ellen. We’re working together.” She glanced away as she said that last bit, and it aroused his suspicions.
“That’s not what I mean,” he snapped, still keeping his voice low. “You didn’t m
arry?” He glanced at her left hand. No engagement ring, never mind a wedding ring. If life were fair, her fiancé had dumped her, and she’d suffered as much as Gabriel had when he’d heard she was engaged.
“Marry?” The shock that crossed her face and the surprise in her voice confused him.
“Yes, marry. Did you think I’d never find out you were engaged? What happened to lover boy?”
She remained silent for a long while, and he let her stew in whatever juices traitors like her stewed. When she finally spoke again, her words, had he not been sitting, would’ve knocked him on his ass.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never been engaged. The closest I came to having a boyfriend in the last three years was—” She snapped her mouth closed, but when he opened his, she cut him off, saying, “You must have me confused with another woman you seduced and abandoned.”
“Seduced.” He leaned forward in his chair, his eyes narrowing. “To my recollection, you didn’t need much seducing. You were all over me like ticks on a deer.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Her voice had risen, and he heard shuffling in the surrounding cubicles. If she didn’t keep it down, they’d be the talk of the office—if they weren’t already.
She leaned back in her chair, sorrow marring her features and breaking his heart all over again. “This won’t work, Gabe. We can’t work together. I’ll ask Carol to reassign me.”
The use of his nickname made his breath catch.
“That might be best.” He’d still be forced to run into her in the halls. Maybe he could arrange to meet with whoever took her place outside the office. But he had one more item to address before they parted ways. She’d seemed genuinely puzzled when he’d asked about the engagement, yet his source for the information had been a trusted one.
“You didn’t get engaged after you left BRI?”
“Oh, Gabe, where the hell would you get that idea?” She propped her elbows on her desk and dropped her head in her palms.
Neither one spoke for a few moments, and he mulled over the implications of the conversation. Had he wasted the last whole year he’d been back in Toronto refusing to track her down? Was it all his fault? If everything he’d believed was wrong, then yes, it was all his fault, and he was a jerk.
“I heard ...” He couldn’t continue. What exactly had happened then? How had things gone from a wild, passionate night that harbingered the start of a solid relationship to cold heartache within six months?
“You heard what? From whom?” She averted her gaze and surreptitiously swiped at her eyes with one hand.
Great. He’d brought her to tears.
“It’s not important right now.” He didn’t want to tell her until he’d verified it himself. Was it possible he’d gotten it all wrong? It couldn’t be. He’d heard it from someone who’d known Ellen at BRI.
“Is that why you dated every nubile young thing in England?”
“What? No. I mean, I didn’t date.”
“Really.” Her tone dripped contempt. “I’ve kept the articles. The pictures.” As soon as the words were out, she flushed so red she glowed.
He huffed out an exasperated breath, and he shook his head. “Are you telling me,” he said, enunciating each word, “that you got your information about my personal life from gossip rags?” And if what she’d said was true, she’d not only read them but also kept the articles. The pictures.
“I …” She put her head in her palms again. When she looked up, her eyes were damp. “We both made stupid assumptions. If you thought I was engaged, why didn’t you contact me and ask me about it?”
Irritation surged up again, overriding regret and sorrow. “Contact you? After you dumped me?”
“If that’s what you think, I won’t press it, but obviously, we shouldn’t work together. Why don’t you leave for now, and I’ll have a talk with Carol—explain the situation? She’ll understand.” Ellen sounded dubious as she said that, but he let it go.
But she was right. Seeing her, hearing her voice on the phone, being near her and unable to touch her or, quite frankly, have sex with her would torture him.
“All right.” He stood, and she rose at the same time. “You look good, Ellen.” She really did. It took all his self-control to keep his hands off her. It’d been so long since they’d last kissed, but he still remembered how she tasted.
“Thank you. You too.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” he said. “For everything. I made an error in judgment.” Something he’d rectify as soon as he left this office. Someone he trusted had steered him wrong, and he intended to find out why. But first, he needed to salvage something of the relationship with Ellen. The fury and heartache he’d experienced since he’d heard she was engaged melted away to be replaced with a panic that he’d possibly let the most promising relationship of his life slip away.
“We need to talk about this but not here,” he said.
“No, we really don’t.” She shook her head for emphasis, but her eyes were sad and her expression regretful.
“You probably think I don’t deserve it, and you’re probably correct, but give me a chance.” Should he remind her of how hot and sexy that one night had been and how well they’d meshed in the months before that night? He almost spoke up but then feared it would lead to a long discussion at the office within earshot of her coworkers. Worse yet, what if it led to an argument? He could damage her reputation and humiliate her in front of her coworkers, if he hadn’t already done so. The office around them had fallen pin-drop silent, only the occasional mouse click or keyboard tapping evident.
Ellen apparently drew the same conclusion, because she rose from her seat to peer over the cubicle and scope out the area. Relief washed across her face, and she sat down again. “All right. I don’t want to talk here, so I’ll meet you tonight after work.” She suggested they meet at the saloon at five. “But I’ll still ask Carol to remove me from your account.”
“Would you be willing to wait until after we talk?” He gave her a pleading look.
The smile she gave him was inadvertent and genuine, and it eased a knot in his gut he hadn’t noticed was there until it disappeared.
“Stop looking at me like that. You know—” She cut herself off, but she’d wanted to say “You know I can’t resist that look.” He knew it as well as he knew her—or the her he’d known and fallen for—not loved, I didn’t love her—over three years ago. He’d used the look on her often enough under more congenial circumstances.
“I think you should leave now.” She said it in a low voice, not angry or emotional, just a little tired.
He knew when to toss in his cards and go home with the pot. Gabriel rose.
“I’ll see you at five. Foundation Saloon, yeah?” He scanned the room as he spoke, verifying no one was peeking over the cubicle walls. He didn’t care what they thought of him, but if he could spare Ellen embarrassment, he’d inconvenience himself to do it.
“Yes, I’ll be there,” she replied.
He left the office, the knot in his gut increasing with every step away from her he took.
Chapter Six
It wasn’t until Gabriel reached his car in the basement parking lot that he remembered he had a date that evening. No problem—he’d make sure he didn’t stay long with Ellen. He wasn’t about to cancel a date with a woman who attracted him when his relationship with Ellen had ended under such catastrophic and dramatic circumstances. First things first, though. He sat in his BMW with the engine off and called Carl, the close friend and business associate who’d told him Ellen was engaged.
“Carl Walker.”
“I got a question for you, pal.” Gabriel had difficulty keeping his tone casual.
“Gabe? What’s up?”
“Who told you Ellen was engaged?”
“A woman she’d worked with. When I asked her where Ellen went after she left BRI, the woman said Ellen got engaged about six months after she left the company. I
didn’t get any details—she said she didn’t know anything.”
“Who was the woman?”
“One of the software developers. A blonde.”
“That doesn’t narrow it down. Which blonde?”
“How many blonde female developers worked there? Dude, I dealt with the marketing department.”
Gabriel exhaled loudly into the phone. “I talked to Ellen today, and she knew nothing about this.” The anger leaked out now. “She claims she never was engaged. Didn’t even have a boyfriend let alone a fiancé.”
“Are you serious? You mean you never talked to her before now?”
“I believed you. And we’d broken up.” Except that it wasn’t simply trust in Carl that had kept him from calling her, was it? If pressed, he’d have to admit his ego had suffered. She’d left BRI within a month of their breakup. An engagement implied she’d already had something going on the side. The reminder stirred his fury again despite the knowledge the rumour was false.
“Yeah, but to not talk to her?”
“What would’ve been the point?” Except if he had, she’d have straightened him out, and he wouldn’t have wasted the last year without her. Gabriel pounded a fist on the steering wheel. “Christ, Carl, I cut her out of my life. I assumed she was over me, that I hadn’t meant much to her.”
“You know what they say about that, eh? When you assume? U, me, ass.”
“That’s not funny.”
“No, but it’s true. You’ll have to learn not to assume the worst about people. It’s burned you before. I thought you’d at least talk to her, even if all you did was find out who the guy was and congratulate her.”
“I couldn’t. I didn’t want to ruin her life by showing up after all this time.” The lie made him squirm where he sat, but he couldn’t admit to his friend how devastated the news had made him. He hoped the decision to not call her wouldn’t cost him his happiness forever. It’d already cost him this last year.