“Hey, Charlie,” the guard said. “I gotta lady down here says she needs to speak to the big boss.”
Charlotte frowned. “Who is it, Steven? I’ll ask Mr. Bishop if he can see her.”
A short pause before Steven came back on the line. “Says her name is Tiffany. She’s pretty convinced he’ll be happy to see her.”
Charlotte’s hand squeezed the phone. She knew of one Tiffany in Gabriel’s life. The two had gone out on a date a month ago, the morning after which the requisite red roses had been dispatched; Tiffany had left the country that same afternoon, on her way to a modeling contract in Japan. Now it appeared she was back.
“Give me a second,” she said and, placing the receiver down, poked her head into Gabriel’s office. “A woman named Tiffany—I assume Tiffany Summer—is here to see you. Should I have Steven buzz her up?”
Gabriel looked up from his papers with a scowl. “Who?”
“Tiffany,” she said again, though a tiny little evil corner of her heart was laughing in glee because he appeared to have totally forgotten the other woman. “Long, straight brown hair to her hips, blue eyes, six feet tall.” What Charlotte didn’t add were the woman’s knockout breasts and perfect cheekbones.
In all honesty, stand Tiffany and Gabriel next to one another and they’d look like the perfect match.
“Christ.” Thrusting a hand through his hair, Gabriel glanced at his watch. “Yeah, buzz her up.”
Charlotte passed on the message, and two minutes later, Tiffany Summer wafted in on a wave of sultry perfume, her body clad in tight white pants and a blood-orange silk top that would’ve looked like a tent on Charlotte. Tiffany Summer had no such problem—she was stunning in the piece. Her black stilettos somehow went perfectly with the rest of her outfit.
“Oh,” Tiffany said once through the glass doors. “I hadn’t realized Gabriel had staff here.”
Charlotte recognized that tone. While her family hadn’t been wealthy—far from it—her mother had worked as a teacher at an exclusive all-girls private school. As a result, Charlotte had been permitted to attend the school at the discounted fee rate offered to children of senior employees. It was one of the biggest perks of the position.
Because of her mom’s long service, the school hadn’t kicked Charlotte out when Pippa Baird got sick and could no longer continue to work. Thanks to Charlotte’s five-year stint in those hallowed halls, she’d come into contact with more than one rich girl. Some were normal kids who happened to have wealthy parents, but there was another, far more vicious group.
The Queen Bees, she and Molly had labeled them. The rich, beautiful ones who got their kicks out of humiliating or otherwise hurting girls not as genetically or financially blessed. Part of the Queen Bee motto was to never be obvious about it. Snideness, malicious gossip, and backstabbing whispers were their hallmarks.
However, give them enough ammunition and the ugliness came out into the open. The Queen Bees had attacked Molly in a rabid pack when the scandal with Molly’s father had broken; Charlotte had seen the true depth of the vitriol and the poison that lived behind those perfect smiles. She saw echoes of that ugliness in this woman who referred to Charlotte as “staff” with the slightest sneer to her tone.
Not enough to be objectionable. Just enough to remind Charlotte of her place.
Too bad Charlotte had never cared what the Queen Bees of the world thought. It did make her question Gabriel’s judgment, however. Then again, she thought grimly, women like Tiffany had a way of turning on the charm for male eyes. “Please go on through, Ms. Summer,” she said in her usual professional tone. “Mr. Bishop is expecting you.”
As Tiffany sauntered inside and shut the door, Charlotte tried to focus on work but found herself gritting her teeth, her attention very much on that closed door.
She jerked as the door opened a bare three minutes after Tiffany had gone in. Face set in hard lines, the model strode out, and Charlotte had the feeling she would’ve slammed the doors to Charlotte’s office if they hadn’t been automatic.
“Call Steven,” Gabriel said, walking over to stand in that doorway, his narrowed eyes on Tiffany’s retreating form. “I want to make sure she doesn’t decide to cause any mischief. She’s in the elevator now.”
Charlotte made the call, stayed on the line until Steven confirmed Tiffany had left the building. “I think that’s the fastest you’ve fired anyone.” She didn’t know where the quip came from, but it made Gabriel grin.
“I didn’t fire her, Ms. Baird. I told her the position had been permanently filled.” He glanced at his watch again as her stomach turned to concrete. “We’re still on timetable to make the deadline.”
THOSE PROVED TO BE famous last words.
Gabriel had to leave Charlotte alone in the office for half an hour not long after Tiffany’s visit. “My mother just called,” he told Charlotte, having taken the call on his cell. “She’s in a café nearby.” He shoved the phone in his pocket, gut tight at the tone he’d heard in Alison Esera’s voice.
Today was the worst possible time for this, with Gabriel up against a hard deadline to get this deal finalized before the man with whom he was negotiating—the hereditary owner of the company Saxon & Archer wanted to acquire and a botanist with no interest in business—disappeared into the Amazon jungle for six months, but he couldn’t ignore his mother. “Will you be okay alone?”