Page 18
Story: Resisting the Billionaire
Gabriel
“What do you mean you might not make it? This is my wedding.”
There’s a heavy pause from the other end of the line, then Connor’s hesitant reply. “I’m sorry, Gabe, I didn’t think it meant that much.”
“I’m just messing with you,” I grin, sidestepping Nadia, my housekeeper, as she dusts the living room. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. If you’re not able to fly out, I’ll catch you next time you’re in town.”
He lets out a relieved sigh. “I’ll try to be there, but I can’t guarantee it with such short notice.”
“It’s no big deal.” I mean, Connor’s my main ally within the family so it kind of is a big deal, but he doesn’t need to stress over this. “I’ll ask Archer to be my best man instead.”
“Think he’ll throw you a bachelor party? Strippers and the whole works?”
“Straitlaced Archer hiring strippers? There’s a better chance of him stripping himself.”
Connor lets loose a belly laugh, the sound making me wish all the more it’ll be him standing up there next to me. But I understand he has actual work to do, and with his project in the Philippines, he can’t easily drop everything and hop on a plane for one day.
Especially to something I don’t even want to attend myself.
“Oh, I’d pay to see that. Archer probably has some secret Magic Mike moves we don’t know about.”
“Probably,” I smile to myself, heading into the kitchen to check what’s in the fridge. Nadia stocks it for me every week and occasionally takes pity on me and leaves a home-cooked meal too. Alas, no such luck this time.
“Dad’s been riding my ass about getting this place up and running on time. And apparently, this project takes precedence over your wedding. No offense.”
“None taken.” Looks like Dad has his priorities right on some things at least.
“But I’ll do my best, I promise.”
“Thanks, Con.”
I hang up and toss a frozen meal in the microwave, scarfing it down before taking the town car over to Bishop Industries. I ride the elevator up to the fiftieth floor where Archer’s office is, leaning against the mirrored back wall, eyes trained on the camera in the upper left corner, a subtle reminder that Dad’s always watching.
No one calls me sir this time. In fact, two other people in the car don’t even seem to recognize me. So much for any perks that come with being the boss’s son.
Archer’s new secretary, a pretty young thing fresh out of college, straightens in her chair upon my arrival, her eyes raking me up and down. “Do you have an appointment with Mr. Bishop?” she asks in a bubblegum voice, flipping her hair over a shoulder.
Seriously, can no one identify the familial resemblance? Archer’s hair is a slightly lighter shade of brown compared to my practically black locks, but we’ve got the same blue eyes as Dad. Admittedly, his have a frosty, serious edge to them I’ve never been able to replicate, but still.
“I’m his brother,” I tell her, eyeing the nameplate on his office door.Chief Financial Officer. Archer’s got a fancy MBA and ten years invested in the company, starting at nineteen as a part-time intern.
No one ever asked me to intern, though.
Archer is the chosen one. The son set to take over Bishop Industries one day. But if Dad had taken my overtures to work for him seriously years ago, would I have a similar title by now?
“Oh, Connor? I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you.”
My jaw automatically clenches before I consciously release it. “No, Gabriel.”
“There’s another brother?” Jesus, how new is this girl? “Let me see if he’s available.”
She picks up her phone, angling her body slightly away, as if I’m intruding on her privacy. “Mr. Bishop, your brother is here to see you.” There’s a pause and then she whispers, “No, not Connor. It’s Gabriel.” Another excruciating pause. “I don’t know what he wants.”
Well, shit. Why did I even bother coming?
She hangs up and turns back to me, a flirty smile on her face. “He’ll see you now.”
“Thanks,” I tell her dryly, passing by her desk to head into his office.
“What do you mean you might not make it? This is my wedding.”
There’s a heavy pause from the other end of the line, then Connor’s hesitant reply. “I’m sorry, Gabe, I didn’t think it meant that much.”
“I’m just messing with you,” I grin, sidestepping Nadia, my housekeeper, as she dusts the living room. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. If you’re not able to fly out, I’ll catch you next time you’re in town.”
He lets out a relieved sigh. “I’ll try to be there, but I can’t guarantee it with such short notice.”
“It’s no big deal.” I mean, Connor’s my main ally within the family so it kind of is a big deal, but he doesn’t need to stress over this. “I’ll ask Archer to be my best man instead.”
“Think he’ll throw you a bachelor party? Strippers and the whole works?”
“Straitlaced Archer hiring strippers? There’s a better chance of him stripping himself.”
Connor lets loose a belly laugh, the sound making me wish all the more it’ll be him standing up there next to me. But I understand he has actual work to do, and with his project in the Philippines, he can’t easily drop everything and hop on a plane for one day.
Especially to something I don’t even want to attend myself.
“Oh, I’d pay to see that. Archer probably has some secret Magic Mike moves we don’t know about.”
“Probably,” I smile to myself, heading into the kitchen to check what’s in the fridge. Nadia stocks it for me every week and occasionally takes pity on me and leaves a home-cooked meal too. Alas, no such luck this time.
“Dad’s been riding my ass about getting this place up and running on time. And apparently, this project takes precedence over your wedding. No offense.”
“None taken.” Looks like Dad has his priorities right on some things at least.
“But I’ll do my best, I promise.”
“Thanks, Con.”
I hang up and toss a frozen meal in the microwave, scarfing it down before taking the town car over to Bishop Industries. I ride the elevator up to the fiftieth floor where Archer’s office is, leaning against the mirrored back wall, eyes trained on the camera in the upper left corner, a subtle reminder that Dad’s always watching.
No one calls me sir this time. In fact, two other people in the car don’t even seem to recognize me. So much for any perks that come with being the boss’s son.
Archer’s new secretary, a pretty young thing fresh out of college, straightens in her chair upon my arrival, her eyes raking me up and down. “Do you have an appointment with Mr. Bishop?” she asks in a bubblegum voice, flipping her hair over a shoulder.
Seriously, can no one identify the familial resemblance? Archer’s hair is a slightly lighter shade of brown compared to my practically black locks, but we’ve got the same blue eyes as Dad. Admittedly, his have a frosty, serious edge to them I’ve never been able to replicate, but still.
“I’m his brother,” I tell her, eyeing the nameplate on his office door.Chief Financial Officer. Archer’s got a fancy MBA and ten years invested in the company, starting at nineteen as a part-time intern.
No one ever asked me to intern, though.
Archer is the chosen one. The son set to take over Bishop Industries one day. But if Dad had taken my overtures to work for him seriously years ago, would I have a similar title by now?
“Oh, Connor? I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you.”
My jaw automatically clenches before I consciously release it. “No, Gabriel.”
“There’s another brother?” Jesus, how new is this girl? “Let me see if he’s available.”
She picks up her phone, angling her body slightly away, as if I’m intruding on her privacy. “Mr. Bishop, your brother is here to see you.” There’s a pause and then she whispers, “No, not Connor. It’s Gabriel.” Another excruciating pause. “I don’t know what he wants.”
Well, shit. Why did I even bother coming?
She hangs up and turns back to me, a flirty smile on her face. “He’ll see you now.”
“Thanks,” I tell her dryly, passing by her desk to head into his office.
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