Haunted By The Girl He Disowned Chapter 1

It happened at the company holiday gala: I threw up all over the CEO’s most important investor.

My colleagues scattered as if a bomb had gone off, and even my boss, Gabe Holloway, had to personally step in and apologize for me.

Yet, the investor didn’t look angry. In fact, he looked mildly concerned, telling Gabe, “Her tolerance is terrible. You should keep an eye on her.”

Gabe’s jaw practically hit the floor.

As soon as the banquet ended, my co-workers swarmed me, desperate for gossip.

“That was Cole Grayson,” someone hissed. “The Cole Grayson. How do you know him?”

Cole—Grayson—paused mid-stride in the crowd and glanced my way.

I looked past him and forced a hollow laugh. “I don’t. We’re not friends.”

After all, three years ago when we broke up, the only thing Cole had asked was that I never mention we’d been together.

* * *

The noisy room fell silent for a beat.

A few seconds later, someone spoke up, skepticism thick in their voice. “No way.”

“His suit alone was six figures. You’re telling me he wouldn’t raise hell, and he’d actually tell our boss something like that, if you weren’t close?”

Tell him what? I had been genuinely drunk and hadn't quite caught what Cole had said.

I could only shake my head and repeat, “We’re really not close.”

“Mr. Grayson probably let it slide because of our boss, Gabe.”

Everyone knew Gabe Holloway had a wide social circle. His relationship with Cole Grayson was certainly deep enough to warrant a courtesy pass.

“Really?”

I met the curious gaze of the woman who asked. After studying my face for a long moment, she convinced herself.

“You’re right.”

“It has to be Gabe. If Rhea Sutton actually knew someone like that, would she be here grinding out hours in a cubicle farm like the rest of us?”

“Still, I heard Cole is getting engaged at the end of the month. Maybe he’s just in a good mood.”

That tidbit seemed to satisfy most of my colleagues.

The only person who didn’t buy it was Gabe himself, who I rarely saw on the floor. He stood with a cigarette between his fingers, his eyebrow arched in a silent challenge—I’ll just stand here and watch you squirm.