He nodded and lowered himself into the seat across from me. Before he could speak, Trudy approached.
"Can I get--?" she began.
Gabriel waved her away without looking.
"I think she was talking to me," I said. "I would love a slice of apple pie if you get a sec, Trudy. Thanks."
When I said her name, he looked up sharply. "Trudy. Sorry. I--"
"Yes, you're only rude to people you think you don't know. Which is a very poor way to treat anyone, Gabriel Walsh."
"Yes, well, perhaps I will have a coffee and--"
"You know where it is," she said and tromped off, orthopedic shoes clomping.
After a moment, Gabriel said, "Could we step out--?"
"I have pie coming. What do you want, Gabriel?"
"I know you spoke to Martin Lores. I believe--"
"--that I may have misinterpreted what he said? That you didn't set up that interview with him? Or that you weren't paid for it? If either of those lies comes out of your mouth, I will get you that coffee ... and dump it over your head."
He eyed me, as if trying to figure out whether I was serious. He considered long enough for Trudy to return with my pie. Then he cleared his throat.
"Were you pleased with the outcome of that interview, Olivia?"
"You know damn well I was. I made you cookies."
Did he flinch? Just a little?
"You were pleased," he said. "You admitted it was the right thing to do. So I don't see the problem."
"You don't?"
"No."
His gaze met mine. His shades were off, as they had been so many times in the last week that I'd gotten used to those frozen blue eyes. Every now and then, I'd even thought I'd seen a flicker of something in them. Something human. But now they were empty again. I dropped my gaze to my pie and dug in.
After I swallowed a mouthful, I said, "Then we have nothing to talk about. You're fired, Gabriel. As I'm sure you figured out when you realized why I asked for those files."
His fingers drummed the table. "This is ridiculous, Olivia. I did you a favor."
"Bullshit. You did yourself a favor. It just happened to work out in my interests, too, so you're assuaging whatever nub of a conscience you have by pretending you did it for me. I told you I wasn't ready for that interview. When we bumped into Lores, I was terrified. Genuinely terrified. You saw that. You didn't care."
"You were overreacting."
"How much did he pay you?" I said.
"I don't see how that's--"
"It can't be much for a single interview. Does it cover a week's gas for your car? Pay for a new shirt? You didn't need the money. I don't even think it's about the money. That's just an excuse to cover up the real reason you do shit like that." I looked him in the eye again. "Because you can. You get off on manipulating people."
I thought that might make him flinch for real. But his gaze seemed to go even colder, that chill seeping into his voice.
"I helped you, Olivia."
"Inadvertently. If you really gave a shit about helping me, you would have admitted you'd already called Lores and offered to coach me through it. I don't expect you to help me, Gabriel. Not unless it helps you, too. But I do expect to be treated with respect. That wasn't just cruel. It was disrespectful. That's why I'm firing you."