Page 10 of Devotion

No wonder he’s constantly stressed with work.

About an hour after the meeting starts, waitstaff begin bringing in a fancy brunch. They fill administrators’ glasses with juice and wine, and they place large trays of chicken, ham, potatoes, vegetables, and fruit on the tables.

The food and drink are entirely ignored until President Vincent announces a half-hour break for the meal.

Most of the administrators prepare their own plates as they chat with each other. Stella, the woman beside Gabriel, is clearly a considerate person, and she makes up a small plate for Benji, getting up to hand it to him before she begins eating herself.

Gabriel has been talking to the portly man beside him as he eats, but after a few minutes I see him looking over at Stella, then glancing back at Benji, who is happily eating his meal. He givesme a few questioning looks and peers around the room at what everyone else is doing.

I know exactly what all those looks mean. He’s piecing together the expectation that partners can only eat if they’re given food.

When he turns his head in my direction again, I give a very discreet nod toward the small empty plate beside his. He picks it up, places a few pieces of ham and potato on it, and turns back toward me. I nod again, still trying to be inconspicuous so we don’t advertise the fact that Gabriel has absolutely no idea what he’s doing.

He understands now. He fills my small plate with way more food than I ever would have expected, including half the chicken breast and even one of the slices of pineapple.

He’s still making a pretense of chatting with the man beside him, but I see him frowning down at his utensils. He picks up his smaller fruit fork and slants me a quick look.

I give my head a quick shake and incline it toward Benji, who is eating with his hands.

I see the recognition on Gabriel’s face. He’s annoyed again by our practices. But he efficiently cuts the larger chunks of chicken into bite-sized pieces before he excuses himself from the conversation and gets up to hand me the plate.

Beaming at him in sincere gratitude, I accept the food, trying not to feel too proud of myself for having a partner who treats me so generously.

The reason Gabriel treats me this well is ignorance rather than genuine appreciation for what I do for him.

No one else knows that, however. The other partners all notice I’ve been given a full plate of food—including all the best stuff—when most of them haven’t gotten anything yet.

Twenty minutes later, the meeting resumes, and I listen with interest to all of it. None of it bores me, not even when a coupleof the long-standing administrators drone on about how the labor class is becoming too entitled and recalcitrant and more control needs to be exerted.

It’s been nearly four hours when the meeting is finally dismissed. Unlike me, Gabriel has been getting increasingly impatient as the time passed. He’s been doing a lot of that frustrated head-rubbing.

His expression is relieved when we’re dismissed. He wastes no time chatting or hanging around afterward and makes such a quick retreat out of the room that I’m forced to jog several steps to catch up to him.

He goes to the bathroom and then immediately plants himself at his desk. I’m stimulated after the meeting and don’t feel like lying around idly in my window nook, but that’s not my choice to make. So I attempt to settle my mind as I get out my sketchbook.

I work on another sketch of Gabriel because he’s not paying any attention to me.

Things go as normal for a couple of hours until he gradually grows more and more restless. It starts with him occasionally glancing up to stare out the window. Then he shifts in his chair as if he can’t get comfortable. Then he rubs at his head in that frustrated way.

Something is definitely bothering him.

He’s staring down at a blank spot on his desk and running his fingertips along the curve of his skull when he actually gives a soft groan.

And that’s it. I can’t stand it anymore.

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

He blinks over at me. “What?”

“Is there anything I can do for you? It looks like something is bothering you this afternoon. I’d like to help if I can.”

“Oh. Yeah, no. It’s nothing. Just can’t focus today.”

“That’s something I can help with.”

His dark eyebrows pull together in a frown. “How can you help me focus?”

“It’s one of the reasons I’m here. If you’ll let me tend to you, you’ll get the release you need to relax and refocus.”

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