by Holly Jaymes
Deciding to call it a night, I went to bed. Burying my face in my pillow to hide from the world and hopefully my thoughts, I willed sleep to come. But sleep wasn’t much better. I dreamt that my home was burning down until it was lying in a heap of ashes at my feet. I supposed that was a metaphor for my life.
The next day, Angela arrived, saying that the wedding she was an attendant for was called off after the groom spent the night with the bride’s sister. And I thought my life sucked. What was wrong with men that they couldn’t keep their dicks in their pants? Maybe the next time I saw Gabe I’d ask him.
Dean showed up five minutes later. I considered asking him, but since he and Angela were starting a relationship, it probably was a bad idea. Then again, if Dean was like the others, maybe I’d save Angela some grief. In the end, I decided to keep my questions about men and their unfaithful dicks to myself.
I could tell by the looks in Angela and Dean’s eyes that I looked like crap. Angela gently asked if I wanted to put on more makeup, but I declined. This wasn’t a show to make me look beautiful. It was about making my house beautiful, so that was what I planned to focus on.
“The living room floor is still drying, so we have you in the kitchen, painting,” Steve said, leading me and my friends to the kitchen. It still needed some of the finishing work, such as tile and paint, but the cabinets and floor were in.
“Oh, this is stunning,” Angela said, taking in the newly remodeled kitchen.
“I hope you plan to cook us some gourmet meals in this,” Dean added with an arm around Angela.
“Absolutely.” I wanted to love it, but the problem was, nearly every room in the house had remnants of Gabe in it. My hundred-year-old home had been ghost-free, but now Gabe and my memories of him in my home haunted me.
“Hey.” Angela put her arm around me. Only then did I realize I was crying. “What’s going on, Sam?”
I closed my eyes, wanting to keep it in, but not able to. I burst into tears “Gabe.”
“Did he hurt you again?” Dean’s protective tone made me feel a little better. I might not have had Gabe, but I did have good friends.
“Yes… No… I don’t know what happened.”
One of the painting crew members handed each of us a paint roller and gave instructions on how and where to apply the paint. He was oblivious to my emotional breakdown. Then again, renovating a home was stressful, so maybe they thought I was just having a remodel meltdown.
I started to paint, focusing on the smooth glide of the brush leaving a pretty buttery yellow color on the wall.
“What happened?” Angela asked as she took a position next to me while Dean started on the wall next to us.
I blew out a breath and told them about Gabe and my no-strings arrangement that turned into more for me, and how it all went wrong after his trip to Florida.
“Why would he think you were cheating with me?” Dean asked.
I glanced at Angela, who was looking between the two of us. Did she see whatever Gabe had seen that made him think I was untrue?
“I guess he saw us last night, or maybe Megan said something.” I went back to painting.
“We were hanging out. Angela was here too.” Dean shook his head in bemusement. “And why did he think we did before?”
“Probably because Sam’s mom thought so,” Angela said, resuming her rolling paint on the wall.
“What?” I stopped painting and gaped at her.
“After Gabe left, you and Dean started hanging out a lot, and your mom thought that meant you were back together,” Angela explained.
I looked at Dean who shrugged. “I didn’t know that.”
“We weren’t though. We’re friends. That’s it.”
Dean nodded in agreement.
Angela filled her roller with paint from the pan. “I’m just saying what your mom said back then. I asked you about it, Sam. You said you and Dean weren’t together and I didn’t think anything of it after that.”
I frowned. Had Gabe talked to my mom? Did she tell him I was back together with Dean? That would explain why he was mad. But then I remembered that I didn’t start hanging out with Dean until I’d seen the pictures of Gabe with other women. I’d spent time with Dean because he was helping me through my heartbreak. So, in the end, it was still Gabe’s fault.
“It doesn’t matter. Gabe seems to forget he was the one who cheated.” I filled my roller again too and slapped the paint on the wall in long strokes.
“Gabe cheated? When? On who?” Diana walked into the kitchen. She saw Angela and then Dean and smiled. “Oh hey. Long time no see.” It was strange to have a mini-high school reunion in my kitchen. The only person missing was Gabe.
However, I wasn’t in the mood to discuss my issues with Gabe with one of his exes, so I blew off the question.
“So, what do you have lined up for us this weekend?” I asked her. She went into great detail about her ideas and what Darryl had wanted as well. It would probably all be gorgeous but I wasn’t able to track much of what she said because I was in such a brain fog of pain.
The four of us finished the kitchen and then painted the foyer, another place I’d hoped for the wallpaper but didn’t get. The only semi-happy part of the day was having Dean and Angela stay the night. We camped out on the sun porch, drinking wine and planning grand parties I’d have once the house was done.
The next day, Diana had us doing a variety of décor-related projects. Angela was sewing curtains in the library while Dean helped hang them. I was in the back yard with Diana, painting used furniture and reupholstering chairs.
We made small talk for a time before she asked, “So what did you mean by Gabe cheating?”
I didn’t speak for a moment, not sure what to say. Diana and Gabe were friends. For all I knew, they’d been like Gabe and I were; friends with benefits.
“It’s not important.”
She stopped stapling fabric to the bottom of a dining room chair to look at me. “It is important. I know we weren’t close friends in school, but I feel like we’re friends now.”
“And Gabe?”
“I’m friends with him too. I can’t tell you how grateful I am he gave me this opportunity. You don’t think he and I are…?”
I didn’t say anything.
“I guess that answers that.” She went back to stapling.
“What?” I stopped my painting.
“One, that you and he are… Or were…in a relationship and two, you do think he’s the type that would cheat.” She shook her head and her expression showed disappointment in me.
I felt defensive at her attitude. “It’s not like he hasn’t before.”
She stared at me like she didn’t know me. “When?”
“He cheated on the girlfriend he had before you, with you.”
“Oh my God.” She said it with such disdain it made me feel foolish. “Do you really believe high school gossip? Still?” She pursed her lips and shook her head at me. “Jackie had dumped him nearly two weeks before he and I were together. She was spending spring break in France, partaking of French boys.” She made a fffttt sound.
“Okay maybe not then, but four years ago.”
She shook her head. “I don’t believe it. I knew Gabe then. He was head-over-heels for you. Then and now.” She didn’t say it, but the expression on her face suggested she thought I was an idiot.
“What about the pictures of him with other women. The one sneaking out of his condo?” I didn’t like that she was making me doubt myself.
“What about them? He’s a sexy man. Women are going to try and get near him. That doesn’t mean he lets them.”
“The condo?” I reiterated.
She studied me. “If you don’t trust him, then you two shouldn’t be together.” She pointed her staple gun at me. “But, you’re wrong about him. The reason people think Gabe cheated on Jackie in high school is because I hit on him while she was in France. He turned me down every time because he was faithful to her. Even wh
en pictures of her with Pierre or Jean Luc or whatever man-du-jour she was with showed up on Facebook, he stuck by her. Only when she broke up, by text, mind you, did he start seeing me.”
I sat, a little stunned. How come I didn’t know this?
“That’s how I know he’s not the cheating type. And if you think about it, it might be why he went mad at seeing you with Dean. He has been cheated on before.”
Her words were making an impact on me. I didn’t know what to believe. She must have seen my confusion, as her eyes softened. “Do you care about him?”
The tears started rolling down my face, because despite everything, I did care for him. “Yes.”
“Why don’t you tell him?”
I shrugged.
“You don’t think he feels the same?” She moved closer and sat next to me.
“I know he doesn’t.”
She put an arm around me. “He does. I can see it. I doubt it was ever gone.” She gave me a squeeze. “You two need to learn to talk. To trust each other.”
I was pretty sure it was too late for that. I looked at her. “He thinks I cheated on him.”
“With who?”
“Dean.” I nodded toward the house where Dean was working with Angela.
“Did you tell him otherwise?”
I shook my head. “It’s ridiculous. He should trust me.”
She arched a brow similar to how my mother did when she thought I was speaking nonsense. “Like you trust him?”
“There are no pictures of me with other men.” Even as I said it, I remembered Angela saying my mother thought Dean and I were together. And, of course, Dean and I were together the other night. It was a friendly visit, but clearly, Gabe had thought it was more than that. God, was I part of the problem too?
“If you trust him, it doesn’t matter. At the very least you ask about it. Did you?”
I shook my head as I remembered yelling at him and breaking up, not asking about the women or the lady at the condo four years ago.
“If he were here, what would you say to him?”
I blew out a breath. “I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. He’s not really here so don’t be a coward. What do you need to know? What do you want him to know?”
I looked down at my hands fumbling with the paint brush. “I wanted it to work with us. I didn’t cheat on him with Dean or anyone.” I looked at Diana. “Dean’s in love with Angela.”
Diana smiled. “I can tell.”
“Why can’t Gabe? Why does he think it’s more than friendship with me and Dean?”
Diana quirked a brow. “What did you think the first time I walked into your house?”
Dammit, she was right. I looked down again. “It doesn’t matter anymore. He’s leaving. He’s leaving but didn’t tell me. He told his staff not to tell me.”
She bit her lip as she thought for a moment. “Why do you think he did that?”
“I don’t know but it’s pretty lousy, don’t you think?”
“Yes. But again, if you trust him, he must have a good reason. I’m not the one in love with him and even I suspect he has a good reason.”
I hated that she was making me out to be unreasonable. “You’re the one that told me people have to communicate.”
“Yes. I’m not saying he’s right; I’m just saying that maybe he’s not being deceitful or betraying you. The both of you have to stop thinking the worst of each other when something goes wonky if you’re going to be happy together.”
There was no together. Certainly not a happy together. “Did you miss the part where I said he was leaving?”
“His family is here, Sam. He’s not leaving forever.”
“Hey, come see the curtains,” Angela called from the porch screen door.
Grateful for the interruption, I put my brush down and rose to see my new curtains. They were beautiful, but it was hard to focus on them while my mind whirled with the idea that perhaps everything I believed about Gabe wasn’t true. What a tragedy it would be if all this grief was just a misunderstanding.
Book 1: Chapter 18 Gabe—Use Your Words
Gabe
The house in California was a gem. It was a renovator’s dream job. The bones of the house were solid and the early twentieth-century features that gave the home character were still mostly intact. Cassandra was a delight and seemed to share the same vision I had for the house once I toured all the rooms, pool area and cabana.
She was also beautiful and more than once made the suggestion that I could stay in the house with her. She framed it in a way that suggested it would allow me to experience the home in all lights, but I knew the only thing she planned for me to see during the night was her.
If I’d had any doubt about her intentions, I knew for sure when she laid on her bed and said, “the sunrise is particularly lovely in the morning from this room.” In that moment, I wished I was the type of man who’d take her up on her offer. Sam and I were done, so there was no reason to refuse her. The problem was, my heart was still with Sam. It wouldn’t be fair to start up with anyone while I was still emotionally involved with someone else. Not that Casandra was looking for love. I was pretty sure she was just looking for a fling.
Flings were dangerous things though, as evidenced by the one I was supposed to be having with Sam. How I thought I’d be able to keep my emotions out of it was beyond me. The truth was, I didn’t think I’d ever gotten over her. All those feelings were still there, and being with her brought them back to the surface. I wondered how long it would be before I would stop feeling them. Or at the very least, push them down again.
On Sunday, I flew back to Virginia to have dinner with my mom and brothers. I was both eager to be with them and dreading it. They would probably ask about Sam, a topic I didn’t want to talk about. Plus, I had to tell them that my show was being sent to California.
I walked into the house, just as my mom was putting food on the table.
“You made it.” She put the platter of ham down and came to give me a hug.
“Just in time.” I smiled, hoping it hid my hurt and frustration over Sam and the show’s move.
She studied me, her eyes narrowing. “You okay?”
I swallowed the emotion that threatened to burst forth. “Yep.”
“Hey man, sit down. We’re starving,” Will said from the table, using his foot to push out my chair.
“Where’s Sam?” Nate asked, serving himself scalloped potatoes.
“She’s working on the house. Last time until the reveal.” I sat down and took the serving dish from Nate.
“Something’s wrong.” Mitch pointed his fork at me and stared at me with his all-knowing eyes. Since Mitch moved to live closer to nature, he seemed more in tune with people’s emotions.
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Uh oh, you lovebirds fighting?” Nate teased.
“We’re not lovebirds.” Jesus, I didn’t think I’d be able to deal with the teasing. Normally I could, but my emotions were so raw. Chances were I’d start a fight, or worse, burst out crying. God, please let it be a fight. I’d never be able to face my brothers again if I started crying over a woman.
“Leave Gabe alone,” my mother said as she sat at the table. And that was just as bad, having my mother defend me to my brothers like I was a little boy.
“Spill,” Will said.
“Fuck.” I dug the heels of my hands into my eye sockets.
“Gabe!”
Double fuck. “Sorry, Mom.”
“It’s bad,” Nate said, but the teasing tone was gone, replaced by concern.
“What happened?” Mitch asked.
I shook my head not wanting to talk about it, and yet, a few minutes later, I’d told them everything. Including seeing Sam sitting intimately with Dean. “Then she had the gall to accuse me of cheating on her.”
“There was that picture of you and the condo lady,” Nate said.
“I didn’t cheat,” I said through gritted teeth.
/> “Everyone knows you didn’t,” my mother said.
“Not Sam.”
“Listen, Gabe,” Will started, sounding a lot like my father. “If she doesn’t trust you, then that says something, right? Maybe this time you figure out a way to get closure and move on.”
“Will’s right. She doesn’t deserve you,” Mitch said. “If you want, when you’re done on that project, you can come up to my place. There’s plenty of room and solitude.”
“Thanks. But, there’s one other thing.”
“Oh hell, she’s pregnant, isn’t she?” Nate said.
“What? No.” At least I hoped not. We had been having sex without a condom but she said she was on the pill. Considering what she was accusing me of, it was doubtful she would have lied about that. “It’s about my work.”
I hated hearing the disappointment in their voices, and especially in my mother’s face as I told them I’d have to go to California.
“I’ll make arrangements to come home as much as possible,” I assured them.
“It’s just a few months, right?” my mother asked.
“If it goes well, they’ll want to do more homes. Sort of “Budget Rehab Goes to Hollywood” thing.”
“Can you get out of it?” Mitch asked.
“Why?” I looked to him and then looked down as I realized I was suggesting they weren’t worth me getting out of my job. Of course they were. Sam had been too. But now I wanted the distraction and to be in a place I knew I wouldn’t run into her. “I’m sorry. I just—”
“You need time away, I understand,” My mother patted my hand. Of course she’d understand.
“I have my agent and lawyer looking at my options, but right now, I’ve got one more year with the show.” I took my mother’s hand. “Maybe you can come visit me. It’s Simon Duchet’s old home.”
She smiled. “Those are fun old movies.”
“Who’s in it now?” Will asked.
I wiped my mouth as I said, “Cassandra Lassiter.”
All my brother’s eyes widened, first in surprise and then with a gleam.
“I’m sure she could make you forget your woes,” Nate said.
