To be close to her in any way possible.
She asked for space and I’ll respect that. Even if it kills me.
“You ready?”
She glances up, smiling when she recognizes me, and it twists the knife in my heart a little further.
“Hi. Yes, I am.” She drops her phone in her purse, smoothing down the front of her white floral dress, the style more casual than the ones she usually dons. “I wasn’t sure what to wear today.”
“You look perfect.”
Her eyes widen, and I immediately regret my words. Or maybe not the words so much as the longing behind them.
“Come on.” I motion for her to follow me inside, where we bypass security since I’m a regular here and navigate to the third floor where the Eileen Bishop wing is.
Now that I consider it, today is probably the perfect day to spend with Mackenzie after yesterday. The kids will be here as a buffer so I won’t have a chance to recall the delicate softness of her neck, her lips under mine… the gut punch as she’d pulled away from me, sorrow and resignation in her eyes.
Damn it. I’m not supposed to be thinking about that.
“What’s it like?” she whispers on the elevator ride up, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. “With the kids?”
I consider her question, trying to sum up my experiences of the last couple of years in just a few sentences. “It’s not as sad as you’d think. There’s an air of… hope around the place. Everyone tries to stay positive. That’s our job today. Make things seem as normal as possible.”
She nods, following me as I walk down the colorfully decorated hallway and into the wing. I pause at the front desk and one of the pediatric oncology nurses, Ruby, smiles widely at me, the beads at the ends of her braids catching the light to shine softly. “Kaia’s got about twenty minutes until her treatment. She was asking about you.”
“Thanks.”
She eyes Mackenzie curiously but doesn’t stop her as we head towards Kaia’s assigned room. I guess that’s one perk of having your family name on the front door - no one questions you about anything.
I spot Kaia’s mom sitting next to her bed, rubbing at her forehead with her phone up to her ear. Insurance company, she mouths to me.
“I can sit with her,” I whisper. She gives me a grateful look and kisses Kaia’s temple before walking toward the lobby.
“Hi, Gabe,” Kaia smiles sweetly, her big brown eyes crinkling at the corners.
I shouldn’t play favorites, but she was the first kid I really connected with here, once I got over my awkwardness wondering if I even deserved to be here. I believed in the beginning I had nothing to offer except Dad’s money, but once I realized the kids wanted someone to talk to, it became the easiest thing in the world.
“Mom said you’re getting married,” she says in her typical non-sequitur fashion. “Is this her?” She peeks over shyly at Mackenzie.
Wow, what a great way to start this visit, especially after yesterday’s fiasco.
I take a seat in the hard-backed chair her mom vacated, and pat the one next to it for Mackenzie to sit down. “No, this is my friend, Mackenzie. She’s actually planning my wedding.”
I peek at the monitors she’s plugged into, scanning them to make sure her vitals look good, and ignore the steady beep emanating from them. After about ten minutes, I’ll have tuned it out completely.
“Will it be a fairytale wedding?”
The girl’s obsessed with fairytales.
“Oh yeah, the biggest bash the kingdom has ever seen. We’ve invited Goldilocks, Rumpelstiltskin, and the Fairy Godmother too.”
“You’re teasing me,” Kaia smiles, revealing a missing bottom tooth.
“No, no. It’s true. Tell her, Mackenzie.”
She looks back and forth between us, grinning.
“I sent the invitations, but I haven’t received any replies,” Mackenzie says, playing along. “They were made of pure gold and pretty heavy, though, so they might take a while to arrive.”
Her eyes widen. “Really? What’s Gabe’s wife like? Is she a princess?”
Not my wife. Not yet.
Mackenzie takes a moment to consider her question. “Serena is quiet, shy, and one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met.”
A technicality. I’d rather have Mackenzie’s warmth over Serena’s cold beauty any day.
“I picked a princess gown for her. Would you like to see it?”
Kaia nods excitedly as Mackenzie cautiously takes a seat at the end of the bed and holds out her phone, the little girl oohing and aahing over it, the two of them discussing something about lace and tulle and organza.
I lean over to look at what they’re talking about, but Mackenzie hastily pushes me away. “You’re not allowed to see the dress. It’s bad luck.”
Kaia giggles, and I hold back the sarcastic comment that wants to fly free. I hardly think seeing a dress is the thing that will doom this marriage. Serena and I will do that just fine on our own, thank you very much.
I cross my arms and relax in my seat, watching the two of them, content to listen to their chatter, knowing it’s a topic I can’t provide any input on. Kaia and I usually debate who would win in a fight - Batgirl or Supergirl? And if we throw Wonder Woman in the mix, all bets are off.
The point of all this is to take Kaia’s mind off her upcoming procedure, a respite from the terrible luck life’s dealt her.
They end up looking at other wedding gowns on her phone, Kaia fully absorbed as Mackenzie teaches her about the different styles. I had no idea Kaia was so interested in something like this, but then again, she’s an eight year old girl. And dresses aren’t exactly my forte.
Across the hall, Ruby snaps on a fresh pair of gloves as she lifts a young boy in his bed more upright so he can eat, speaking in soft tones to him. He appears weather-beaten, his eyes two hollow sockets in a thin face as he refuses the tray of food in front of him. I’ve spoken to him before, but I can’t remember his name. Maybe if I brought in something other than the bland hospital meals they provide, it would tempt him to eat. I’ll have to ask one of the nurses what his dietary restrictions are.
Down the hall, a frantic beeping has several nurses rushing past us, Ruby included, and I grip the arms of my chair so I won’t give in to the urge to follow. That’s not what I’m here for. My job is to lift spirits, not get in the way of professionals who actually know what they’re doing.
After another ten minutes, Kaia’s mom returns, smoothing her hand down her daughter’s cheek in an absent-minded gesture of affection. I remember my mother doing the same, a brief ache forming in my chest as I watch Kaia smile up at her. “Is it time?”
“Yes, baby.”
Ruby comes over with a wheelchair to wheel Kaia away, her mom following close behind.
Mackenzie watches them go with a somber expression, rubbing at her sternum. “Is it always so… heartbreaking?”
“You get used to it.”
I guide her over to some of the other kid’s beds, introducing her around, where she quickly gains the moniker of Wedding Lady. She doesn’t seem to mind, though, as she shows a few other girls dresses on her phone, delighted to answer their questions.
I’m happy to defer all matters regarding my upcoming nuptials to her, spending my own time talking to the boys who aren’t interested in weddings.
After another hour and a half, it’s time for us to leave and I escort her back toward the elevator.
“That was so…” She searches for the right word as we make our way out of the hospital. “Fulfilling,” she finally settles on. “Even though I didn’t really do anything.”
“I know exactly what you mean. But sometimes the simplest things are the best. Someone to talk to. To laugh with. To listen.”
“And your brothers have never wanted to visit with you?”
I sigh. “Connor’s in the Philippines right now. Otherwise, he probably would. And Archer… I honestly don’t know if he would see the point
. He’s turning more and more into Dad every year.”
We wait at the curb as Davis pulls the town car around in front of us, and I usher Mackenzie inside, glad she’s too distracted to refuse a ride back to her office.
“What was it like growing up together?”
I tap on the glass divider to indicate to Davis to go, considering her question. “Mom was good about realizing we were two separate people with different personalities and interests. But being only a year apart, it was hard for Dad not to compare us. And with Archer the older one, he was obviously always ahead of me. It caused some resentment issues for sure, I’ll be the first to admit that. I didn’t like constantly being found lacking and eventually gave up trying to impress Dad.”
“But you guys are adults now.”
I give her a rueful smile. “He made up his mind about me a long time ago.”
“And you don’t care about changing it?”
“What’s the point?” I shrug. “I’d be wasting my time and energy.”
A line forms between her brows. “Why did he make up his mind? What happened?”
“I was a teenage boy, that’s what. A privileged, rich white male who had just lost his mom and started acting out. With no one supervising me, no rules or restrictions, I did whatever I wanted. And I ended up getting caught at the wrong kind of party.”
I shouldn’t be telling her all this, making myself look bad, but it’s like the words need to come out. “It turned out to be a sting operation for some guy. They arrested everyone and Dad was livid when he found out.”
“Did you call him for bail?”
I grin. “No, I wasn’t that stupid. But he discovered it anyway. Even though I got let out that night and the police never charged me, he still holds it against me.” I’ll always be the troublemaker child in his eyes, no matter that it’s been over a decade since then.
She shakes her head softly. “God, I remember some of the stuff I did with my friends as a teen, half of which I’m sure my parents never found out about, but even if they did, they wouldn’t hold it against me now.”
“And what’d you do? Cow tipping?”
“No.” She tries to hide a smile. “We weren’t quite that rural. Mostly just going places we shouldn’t have been. Or sneaking drinks in a friend’s basement.”
“Everyone does that. But I started doing other stuff after that, trying to get his attention. I didn’t realize I was making things worse for myself. By the time I was old enough to understand that, he’d washed his hands of me.”
I pick at a piece of lint on my pants. “Everything’s well and good in the public eye, but he doesn’t miss a chance to tell me in private what he really thinks.”
Her hand creeps over the seat, squeezing mine quickly in reassurance. There’s nothing sensual about it, but it still warms me through all the same.
“It’s funny,” I chuckle humorlessly. “He chides me for using his money, but he’s always made it clear to me and my brothers that appearances are everything. Dress sharp, go to exclusive places, create the impression of wealth we feed to the media. But all that takes money. He’d say I’m not living up to the Bishop name if I forgo all that stuff, begrudge me for making a fool of him.”
“You’re damned if you do, damned if you don’t,” she murmurs.
“Exactly. I’m either a freeloader or an embarrassment. I figure I’d rather eat well and look nice than the alternative.”
“Is that why you agreed to marry Serena?”
I glance over at her, unsure how to answer. My reasons for agreeing to this in the first place don’t seem as crucial anymore. “I… wanted to keep the status quo, I guess. I’d lose everything otherwise. My lifestyle, my family-”
“Your family?” She sounds surprised.
“Didn’t I tell you that? He’ll cut me off, not just financially, but disown my brothers too if they help me out. I’m not worried so much about Archer, but I can’t put Connor in that kind of position. He’d want to help me even if I told him not to.”
Her eyes narrow, lips pursing.
“Go on, spit it out,” I encourage her.
“He’s such an asshole!” she exclaims, bringing a grin to my face. “I wanted to say something after that last check-in meeting we had, but Serena was there and I wasn’t sure if she would rat me out.”
“She doesn’t seem to be a fan of him either.”
My phone rings but I ignore it, not wanting to waste any of my time with her. Now that most everything for the wedding is done, the reasons for getting together are fewer and farther between.
“You should get that,” she says after a moment, but by the time I’ve pulled it out of my pocket, I’ve missed the call.
A message chimes just a few seconds later, though. “Shit,” I murmur, looking at it.
“What is it?”
I rub at my forehead, a sudden headache forming. “I forgot about this party I said I’d go to, but that was before all this happened.” A long sigh escapes me. “I don’t want to pretend to be happy about this engagement every time someone asks me about it.”
Dad did his part spreading the word about how Serena’s reformed me. I even found an alleged interview online the other day where I apparently claimed she was my soulmate.
Thanks for that, Dad.
I stick my phone back in my pocket, tapping at my knee.
“Do you have to go?” Mackenzie asks. “Can’t you just skip it?”
“I can’t skip everything for the rest of my life. I’ve already barely talked to anyone the last couple weeks.” I resist the urge to let out a frustrated growl. I didn’t even care about going to the party that got me into this mess to begin with, but this whole situation is my own fucking fault.
“I can go with you.”
I pause in my self-recrimination. “What?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “I mean, if you want. Just as a… distraction from all the questions. I’ll answer them for you, so you don’t have to.”
“That would be amazing,” I breathe. She’d really do that for me?
“Don’t look at me like I’m a saint,” she smirks. “You’ve done so much for me. It’s the least I can do to repay you.”
“You never have to repay me for anything. Ever.”
Her eyes widen slightly as the car comes to a stop, the yellow awning of the flower shop right outside. Guess that came out a little more intense than I meant it to.
“I’ll pick you up at eight, okay? And I’ll introduce you to some people too. So it’s not a total waste of your time.”
She nods and opens the car door, her dress riding up high for just a moment as she steps out onto the curb. “I’ll see you later,” she smiles, hips swaying as she makes her way to the front entrance. I swear she’s not doing it on purpose, but it revs me up all the same.
Davis takes off toward my apartment and I lean back in my seat, pleased with how today has turned out so far.
And it looks like I’ve got a party to get ready for.
Chapter Thirteen
Mackenzie
I step around a couple arguing heatedly in the living room, fairly sure one of them is a model I saw on a billboard uptown last week, and catch up to Gabriel. I really wish I could wrap a hand through the crook of his arm so I don’t lose him in this crush, but I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea about us.
We’re friends. Professionals. Not anything more.
If someone snaps a picture tonight to post on ThousandWords, it’s going to be of the two of us standing a respectable distance apart.
“How many people do you think are here?” I murmur as he searches for the host of the party. “And how big is this apartment?” Seriously, it has to be at least three thousand square feet, including the balcony. And here in the middle of Manhattan, that’s truly saying something.
“Uh, probably about the same size as mine.” I gape at him. Is he serious? He must have had an attack of claustrophobia in my place then. “And no clue how many are her
e. James likes inviting an… eclectic assortment of people.”
“And how do you fit in?” He steers us out toward the balcony with its prime view of the harbor. God, I could get used to a view like this.
His hand rests on my lower back for the briefest moment as he guides us around a rowdy group, my body singing at the slight contact before he drops it. “Son of the owner of a major social media app and a billionaire? Why wouldn’t you invite me?”
Is there a hint of bitterness in his tone? Or am I imagining it?
“Gabriel!” a heavyset man calls out jovially. I’ve never heard of him, but apparently, James Halwell is big in the real estate game around here. He must be if he can afford this apartment. I’m itching to find out what Gabriel’s is like now.
“James,” Gabriel replies, less enthusiastically.
A ripple of awareness runs through the crowd surrounding us, most of them looking our way, whispering to one another. Two women to the left of me don’t keep their voices lowered quite enough, though. Who’s that? He’s cute. My fingers automatically curl before I consciously release them. You don’t know? That’s Gabriel Bishop. He’s insanely rich. Is that the only thing they care about? Well, I’m going to introduce myself then. My hands clench again. No, he’s engaged. But not to her.
Oh, shit. It’s starting already. I step a little further away and tune back into the conversation Gabriel is having just as James asks, “And is this the lovely Serena? Word around town is you’re engaged.”
“No, I’m Mackenzie Sweet,” I tell him, holding out my hand for him to shake. “His wedding planner actually. Gabriel invited me so we could get some ideas for the reception. He said you throw amazing parties.”
A little sweet talking never hurt anyone, and my words hit their intended target as James appears suitably flattered.
Gabriel makes a noise of amusement next to me and I resist the urge to elbow him in his side. “I love how you’ve decorated out here.” I actually do. Comfortable seating, strung lights, and a second bar area for people to make their own drinks has everyone relaxed and chatting happily.
Resisting the Billionaire Page 12
