Page 7 of Pure Abandon

She lets out an exasperated breath. “Don’t let Erik hear you say that.”

I close my eyes in embarrassment and sit up from my desk. When I open them, I see Malory still seated before me with her legs crossed and a wicked grin across her face.

“Alexander Asher is, number one, your boss,” she says condescendingly.

“I knew that.” The girl has to give me some credit.

“He is Edward Asher’s grandson and is gearing up to take over the family dynasty.”

I roll my eyes at the thought of having to meet with a spoiled brat who’s taking over his Granddaddy’s business. I can’t stand entitled people. New York is filled with enough socialites and wannabes already. I don’t need to work with one.

Malory points her finger at me as I turn on my new computer and wait for it to load. “Don’t roll your eyes. Alexander Asher is on track to become one of the most successful men in the country. And he’s smart. He bought Erik’s company and knew enough to keep Erik as an asset. He is also becoming quite the philanthropist.”

I’ll give him credit for the charity. The rest I’m a bit wary of. “So I’m meeting with a ten-year-old who made a few bucks playing Monopoly with the family trust fund?”

Malory returns my eye roll. Apparently, I’m amusing.

“I still can’t believe they gave you your own office,” Gabriel says, exiting our master bathroom, wearing baby-blue pajama bottoms and a white undershirt. I take a moment to look him over. With his dark features and piercing eyes, he is one of those guys who gets better with age. A Clooney, if you will.

When Gabriel and I met, he was an athletic twenty-one-year-old with boyish charm and a matching exterior. He used to wear jeans, funny T-shirts, and baseball caps. His hair was longer and fell slightly into his eyes. He used to brush it off his forehead when it got in the way or he was frustrated.

Ten years later, he’s filled out quite well, thanks to running and pushups in the park. Gabriel doesn’t believe in spending money on a gym when Mother Nature has everything you need. The T-shirts and jeans come out sporadically, but his usual attire is a suit for work and pants and a polo shirt on the weekends. His hair is cut much shorter and it suits him.

He walks over to the bed and I have to remind myself what we were talking about.

Oh, my office. Yes, that beautiful, white space that’s all mine.

“It’s small, but it has an awesome view.” I shake my head, still in disbelief that I can see the Empire State Building.

“So what are you working on?” Gabriel pulls back the duvet and climbs into bed.

“A benefit concert at Lincoln Center.” I grab the remote and switch on the TV. There is never anything good on this late at night, but I turn it on anyway.

“Who is the concert for?” Gabriel asks, lifting his iPad from the nightstand.

“Some children’s charity. The company was assigned to put together this major televised concert event that will raise money for music programs.” I search through the channels, pausing on an old Cary Grant film.

“Like a telethon?” he asks, typing in the web address for CNN.

I snort. “Yeah, kinda… but a thousand times more posh and without Jerry Lewis. Do you understand how much money this could bring in for music programs?”

“And the revenue your company can draw…?” he asks with his eyes focused on the tablet.

“No, Gabriel, this is all for charity. We’re not making any money.”

“Who do you think pays your salary?” Gabriel puts the iPad on his lap and looks over at me. “I bet ten cents to every dollar goes to charity and your company pockets the rest. No one does anything for free,” he says matter-of-fact.

“Gabriel.” My voice is stern. He knows I don’t want to hear anything negative about my job.

“Kat…” He is patronizing me. “I’m a lawyer. Trust me. Your company is making bank on this.”

I know he’s right, but it bothers me he’s such a realist. Gabriel is a tax fraud defense attorney. And I’m not talking about people who forgot to pay their taxes last year and are being hit up by the IRS. Gabriel represents high-profile clients who hide more money from the United States Government than you and I will probably make in a lifetime… combined.

Gabriel continues. “What else did you expect working for a company run by Alexander Asher?”

How does he know who Alexander Asher is?

“You know who my new boss is?”