I freeze as his hand runs up my arm before he brushes past me towards the front of the shop.
***
"You didn't answer my question earlier." Cicely throws me an agitated look as she walks into the stockroom, her long dark curls bouncing against her back with each step she takes. "I need you to explain exactly what's going on."
I need her to back off.
Once Gabriel Foster left, my boss had turned her attention solely to me. She can't be more than twenty-eight-years-old, but her strict, no-nonsense approach to managing the store ages her considerably. She scolded me like a child when I was precisely four minutes late to a shift last week and she's constantly schooling me on how to upsell every customer.
I don't need her condescending attitude. I do my job well. I proved that in spades just ten minutes ago when my last customer left here with over eighteen hundred dollars of merchandise tucked into a signature pale peach shopping bag with the Liore logo emblazoned across it. Considering that she came in looking for one pair of black panties, I'd call that a huge success.
"What question is that?" I ask without looking up from the cardboard box I'm currently unpacking.
Today is delivery day at the boutique which means every sales associate on duty has to put in an hour in the stockroom sorting through the new merchandise to ready it before it can be displayed on the sales floor. I hate this part of my job because it means commissions that should be mine are instead being pocketed by one of my co-workers.
"The question about what is going on between you and Mr. Foster." She reaches into the box to yank out a short, yellow, satin robe. "You need to steam these before you hang them up."
I glance over to where the upright steamer is resting. I'd plugged it into the electrical socket immediately after I opened the box and saw how wrinkled everything was. I know how important impeccable presentation is to the Liore brand. "I'll take care of that, Cicely."
"Answer my question. What was Mr. Foster talking about? Why are you going to his office with samples?"
I make a frustrated noise under my breath. Confessing to her that I propositioned the owner of the company we both work for will cut my shift short, and it will essentially mean the end of my job. Cicely is definitely a 'by the book' type. It's just one of the many ways we are polar opposites. I take a step towards the steamer with a robe in my hand, hoping she'll jump off her current train of thought and launch into a long-winded tutorial about how to use it properly, even though she's already demonstrated that to me a handful of times since I started working here.
"It's about the shipment of lace garter slips that arrived last week, isn't it?" The robe in her hand drops back into the box as she lets it fall from her grasp. "That must be why he was here today. I was personally supposed to verify the quality of that order and report back to him. It completely slipped my mind."
I half-shrug my shoulder as I watch her scurry across the floor to an unopened box. This is the most flustered I've seen her and I have to admit, it's a good look for her.
"Drop all of that." Her hands both wave in the air in my direction. "We need to get these ready so we can take them to his office at four o'clock."
"We?" I cling tightly to the robe in my fist. "I think Mr. Foster just wanted to see me. He didn't say anything about you."
Any semblance of vulnerability leaves her expression as her perfectly tweezed dark brows rise. "Have you forgotten that you work for me, Isla Lane? You don't know the first thing about these samples. They're one of the new products that Mr. Foster just approved. I'll go with you. You'll watch and learn."
I don't say another word as I toss the robe I'm holding back into the box and walk across the room towards her. As frustrating as Cicely is and as much as I detest having her breathing over my shoulder on a daily basis, having her in this meeting may be my saving grace. I just might be able to salvage my job, if I play my cards right.
CHAPTER TWO
Gabriel
I see my mother through the open doors of my office before she turns to look at me. In that instant, I'm reminded that I arranged this meeting. I ordered her here because I need answers.
As I watch her make small talk with my assistant, I can't help but admire how she carries herself around others. She appears confident to a fault. The way she holds her shoulders back is evidence of that. You'd never know by looking at her that she's as careless and reckless as she is. She knows that there's little I can do to remedy her behavior other than to explain the impact her actions have on the business, as a whole. There's no doubt in my mind that she recognizes the risk she's taking. It's what energizes her and pushes her forward.