Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
“Is something wrong?”
“For some reason, the tenants believe they are to vacate the premises immediately.”
“Won’t they need to be out for renovations?”
"I'm setting up the necessary arrangements for that." It can be done by floor and so on. I never once mentioned that I was kicking all of them out.
“Right, of course not.” There is a hitch to her voice that causes my hackles to rise. “Are you leaving?” I hit the button for the elevator. I don’t have time for this. Gabriella was fired, and now she's under the assumption that she’s been kicked out of her home. It’s in part my doing. I have to fix this. I wanted to make her life better, not worse.
“Yes, I have somewhere to be.”
"We have dinner reservations with the Greens." Fuck, I’d forgotten about that. How had I? I’ve been working on this deal for months.
“Cancel it."
“What? Securing a meeting with them has proven to be challenging. In fact, the only meeting they had available was for dinner.”
“Cancel it.” There is no amount of money, real estate, or any other asset that would keep me from straightening out this mess that I’ve somehow caused for Gabriella. The thought of her crying again for the second time today is enough to send me over the deep end.
“Sir—”
“See if they’ll move it.” I step onto the elevator. “Keep me updated,” I say as the doors close. Thankfully, the elevator doesn’t stop on a million floors and goes straight down to the parking garage.
I don’t have to plug in the address for Gabriella’s place. No, I've driven by it more times than I care to admit. The girl has a spell on me. She brings out a side of me that I didn’t know was there. I could fight it, but I already know it’s not a battle I’d win, and no one is stupid enough to go into a fight they think they’re going to lose.
4
GABRIELLA
“Whoa.” I gasp when I almost slip on the stairs. I’m lugging a suitcase and two trash bags. Thankfully, I right myself before I fall on my ass. That would have really been the icing on the cake for the day. I make my way to the sidewalk that leads toward the street.
I set my belongings down in order to retrieve my phone and check if the car I ordered is close. The stupid screen freezes. I need a new phone but can’t afford one right now. Before I get a chance to reset it to check, it pulls up, stopping right in front of me. It said it was a black SUV. I open the door.
“Right on time,” I say to the driver, shoving the first trash bag in and across the seat and then the other. “Should I put this in the trunk?” I ask, holding up my suitcase. It’s not very big. “Never mind. I think it will fit. Don’t get out. It’s snowing.” I get in, closing the door behind me. I click my seat belt on, but we don’t move. “I’m ready to go,” I tell him, letting him know it’s okay to take off now.
After a few seconds, he pulls away from the curb. “You have the hotel address in there, right?” I’m not used to ordering a car, but there was no way I was taking a bus with all this stuff. I put in my destination when I made the request.
“Hotel?” the man says. His voice is deep and almost familiar.
“Well, maybe it’s considered a motel? I’m not sure. I never understood the difference, but I do know that motels are normally cheaper.” The driver rolls to a stop at the light. “You have the address, right?” When he doesn't respond, I repeat my question.
He’s not too chatty. I get it. I bet he has to talk to people all day. I know some people aren't a fan of that. I actually enjoy it. My apartment gets lonely, but I can’t do the roommate thing again. That was a nightmare. Which is saying a lot because there’s not much I can’t deal with. I grew up in the foster system. I am used to dealing with difficult situations.
“Gabriella, I can’t take you to a motel.” The deep voice breaks me from my thoughts. Wait a second. It can't be. I know that voice, but it’s not possible.
“Caleb?”
The dome light illuminates, and to my surprise, Caleb turns halfway to reveal his face.
“Holy cow.” What are the odds? "Are you a driver at night?" I would have never pegged him for this job. Times must be rough in the corporate world. I'm not exactly sure what Caleb does, but I do know that he wears custom suits and works in a shiny, big building around the corner from the coffee shop.
Now that I take in the interior of the SUV, I notice how swanky it is. It even smells expensive. My trash bags and dented luggage look obnoxious in the space.