No Memory No Mercy novel Chapter 68

"But…" I frowned. "It doesn't seem like she and Alicia get along either."

Gabrielle cleared her throat immediately. "Those aren't mutually exclusive. She doesn't like Alicia—and she doesn't like you either."

"I see…" 

I glanced at her side profile and murmured, "You're the only person I feel like I can really trust right now."

She answered simply, "I know."

"I mean it," I said. "I really trust you."

That made her turn to look at me sharply. "What's going on? Did something happen?"

"Nothing."

I shook my head and gave her a small smile.

So, I was really hoping Gabrielle would never lie to me. 

We got out of the car and headed in together when we arrived at the Ford residence.

But right there in the front courtyard, I saw two people I had absolutely no desire to run into—Jonathan and Alicia. 

The Ford residence's front yard was massive—about an acre of open space, with a long, covered walkway that looked like it was built just for show. You had to walk that path to reach the main entrance. Rare flowers bloomed all year round along the sides, each season bringing its distinct scent, 

Up ahead, I saw Alicia tugging at Jonathan’s arm. 

“Jonathan, the project team still doesn’t respect me,” she whined. “I spent months on that proposal–can you take a look at it for me?” 

course I am,” Gabrielle replied samply “You have no idea how ridiculous she’s been. She’s not there to work–she’s there to scope out whether Jonathan has other women around. She’s paranold as hell. The whole secretarial team has been under her radar.” 

lauglied under her breath. “Good thing Jonathan’s personal assistant is a guy. If it were a woman, he probably would have found an excuse to get her fired.” 

“St really has that kind of power?” I was surprised, Jonathan always seemed like someone who drew a firm line between work and personal matters. I didn’t think held let her get away with that. 

“She not stupid,” Gabrielle said. “She knows when to pull back so jonathan doesn’t resent her. She pushes past far enough to make herself seem important, but never crusses a line that would actually piss Jonathan off.” 

“That’s wheir she and I are different ” 

I gave a wry simile. “The old me probably didn’t know when to stop. I was impulsive and dramatic. No wonder things turned out the way they did.” There wasio trace of pity in my voice. I talked about my past sell like she was someone else entitely.