But we both knew it was a lie.
3
GABRIELLA
Ishould not be having this much fun.
That was my first thought while eating Thai food with Eli Shepard in his private conference room. My second thought was that I was in so much trouble.
He’d pushed the takeout containers to the center of the table, creating a makeshift buffet between us. Spring rolls, pad see ew, and green curry that smelled like heaven. I’d taken my first bite expecting awkward silence, maybe some stilted conversation about content calendars and engagement metrics. Instead, he’d asked me about Ohio.
“What’s it like?” He twirled noodles around his fork with surprising grace for someone who looked like he could bench-press a small car. “Growing up there, I mean.”
“Flat. Corn. More corn.” I shrugged, reaching for a spring roll. “It’s nice, though. My parents still live in the same house I grew up in. White picket fence, the whole thing.”
“Sounds cozy.”
“It was.” I paused, considering. “Also kind of suffocating, if I’m honest.”
His eyebrows rose. “How so?”
I hadn’t meant to go there. Hadn’t meant to veer anywhere near personal territory with my boss’s boss’s boss while sitting in his private conference room after hours. But something about the way he looked at me—actually looked, like he was genuinely interested in the answer—made the words tumble out.
“My parents are…a lot.” I set down my fork, buying time. “Helicopter types, except helicopters have more chill. Every friend had to be vetted. Every activity required a background check and a notarized letter of intent. I love them, but Jesus, it was exhausting.”
“Strict household.”
“That’s putting it mildly.” I laughed, but it came out a little bitter. “I couldn’t go to sleepovers unless the host had met the parents at least three times. School dances required a chaperone—my mom, obviously. And dating?” I shook my head. “Forget it.”
Something shifted in his expression. “They didn’t let you date?”
“Oh, they would’ve let me. If I wanted to put some poor guy through the gauntlet.” I took a long drink of water, remembering. “My dad had this whole system. First, he’d want to meet the guy—formal sit-down in our living room. Then there’d be questions. Where are you from? What are your intentions? What’s your five-year plan? And that was just round one.”
Eli had stopped eating, his attention fully on me now. “Sounds intense.”
“It was medieval.” I stabbed at my noodles. “So I just…didn’t. I’d do group things with friends—movies, bowling, whatever. But I’d never tell my parents if there was a guy I liked in the group because the thought of subjecting anyone to that screening process made me want to crawl into a hole.”
“So you never dated.”
“Nope.” The word came out more defensive than I intended. “I mean, I had a life. Friends, activities, school. I wasn’t some tragic shut-in. I just didn’t date.”
He was quiet for a moment, studying me with those impossibly blue eyes. “Not even in college?”
“I was too busy trying to figure out who I was without their rules.” I met his gaze, daring him to judge. “Senior year, I finally let myself try. I went on a few dates. Nothing serious. Mostly just proving to myself I could.” I paused. “Speaking of things that are hard to navigate—why did you call everyone back to the office now? Right before Christmas?”
His expression shifted, something defensive flickering across his face. “I’d been running the numbers. Looking at engagement metrics and campaign performance. The team was becoming too disconnected working remotely.”
“Disconnected how?”
“Response times were slower. Collaboration felt forced. The creative energy wasn’t there anymore.” He set down his fork. “I needed everyone in the same room again. To rebuild that cohesion.”
“Right before the holidays, though?” I couldn’t keep the edge out of my voice. “You couldn’t wait until January?”
“The Q4 campaigns were underperforming. I couldn’t afford to wait.”
I studied him, seeing past the business justification. “Or maybe you just didn’t want to be alone in that office during the most family-oriented time of year?”
He went very still. “That’s not?—”
