Ah. Gabby’s firm represents a lot of sports figures. Leo Norris must be a client.
Norris is far too drunk to register that we don’t want him around. Either that, or he’s enjoying his view of Gabby’s cleavage too much. I swear to God, if this disgusting pervert doesn’t stop looking down her top, my patience is going to snap.
“I didn’t see you at the office the last time I was in,” Norris continues, addressing Gabby. He grins conspiratorially at the two of us. “Gabriella has the best ass and tits in that place.”
My control snaps. I half-rise out of my chair, but before I can do more than that, my best friend has already intervened. His hand comes up to Norris’ shoulder. The next moment, Norris is on his butt on the floor, blinking up at us.
Nicely done, Carter. Remind me to learn that move.
Norris’ face darkens with a mixture of anger and confusion. “Oh dear,” Carter says smoothly, offering his hand to him. “You must have lost your footing. The floors here can get so slippery.”
“Marble, you know.” I shake my head sadly. “Looks good, but not really practical.” I raise my hand to attract Jamal’s attention, and he’s at our table in an instant. “Jamal, could you help Mr. Norris to his table?”
Jamal, who has witnessed the entire incident, bites back his grin and nods. “Of course, Mr. Crawford. This way, sir.”
Norris looks dazed but doesn’t protest. Too drunk still. His alcohol-fogged, pea-sized brain is trying to make sense of this situation. With any luck, if he even remembers this incident tomorrow, he’ll believe the suggestion Carter’s planted in his mind—that he slipped on a slick floor and fell to the ground.
“Enjoy your meal,” I say dismissively. Jamal leads the man away, and I turn back to Gabby.
She bites her lower lip. “Sorry about that.”
“Why are you apologizing?” I ask with a frown. “You’re not the dickhead. Does that guy talk to you like that at work? Why is he still a client?”
She laughs disbelievingly. “Why is he still a client? Because he’s a big deal and I’m not. Come on, Dominic. You’re not stupid. You know how the world works. At least with me, he’s kept the harassment verbal. He groped Anna.” She looks disgusted. “He can’t take no for an answer.”
“And they haven’t dropped him?”
She rolls her eyes. “Drop him? This is Karpis we’re talking about. Sexual harassment or not, the client is always right.”
She is trying to brush off the incident, but she looks shaken. “Why do you work there?” Carter asks bluntly.
“What else am I supposed to do?” She lifts her chin. “I fucked up. I had money saved to branch off on my own, and I lost it all in one stupid night of poker. I made my bed.”
I give Gabby a disbelieving look. “You made a mistake. How long are you going to punish yourself?” I love her. I hate the thought of Gabby being forced to work with guys like Leo Norris. Guys who think that their fame is a license to harass women. Guys who don’t hear the word ‘No.’
Her gaze drops to her empty plate. “I borrowed money from my parents,” she replies. “Right now, the most important thing isn’t starting my own company. It’s paying them back.”
“Let me help.” The strain of not punching Norris vibrates through me, and my voice comes out urgent. “Please. Quit your job. You need seed money to start your own company? Take it from me; I have more than enough. You shouldn’t be forced to work with guys like that, Gabby. You shouldn’t have to work for a company that turns a blind eye to sexual harassment. Let me help.”
“No,” she says flatly. She looks up. “Dominic, it’s a nice offer. It really is.” Her dark eyes swim with emotion. “And you’re a sweetheart for making it. But I have to do this on my own.”
29
Gabriella
Dominic looks unhappy, but to my everlasting relief, our next course arrives before he can press the point. Carter waits for me to try the course, and then gives me an inquiring look. “What do you think of the noodles?”
“I want to marry the noodles,” I reply fervently, intensely relieved we’re changing the subject. “I’ve made noodles at home. Why do they never taste so good? Wait, don’t answer that.”
Yes, Leo Norris is a giant douchewipe. He used to play for Liverpool, but he wasn’t consistent enough or talented enough to make it there, and so he moved to America to play Major League Soccer.
Yes, he hit on Anna, and yes, Karpis should have taken her side, not his. It’s ridiculously unfair that she has to quit her job and he gets to skate by with no consequences.
Best tits and ass in the place, he’d said. The fucker. It’s ridiculously unfair that I can’t knee him in the groin, but such is life.
I’m so ashamed. So mortified that I had to run back to Daddy for help. Like a helpless little girl, not the adult woman I want to be. I’m almost thirty, and I’ve achieved nothing on my own.
The company I want to start—now more than ever, I desperately need to do it on my own.
I wasn’t lying to Dominic. It was kind of him to offer to loan me money. Or was he offering to give it to me, no strings attached? I’m not sure. Either way, I don’t want it. I’ll have to wait longer than I wanted to start my own firm. I’ll have to put up with bullshit clients, some of whom will undoubtedly make unwanted passes at me. But in the end, it’ll be worth it.
“Do you cook?” Dominic leans forward. He gives me a small smile. “I want to know everything about you.”
He’s so gorgeous. They both are. And they’re mine. How amazing is that? I feel my mood brighten. “Sometimes,” I reply. “Just easy stuff. I don’t have the patience for anything too laborious.”
“Like what?”
Before I can reply, a woman walks up to us. “Dominic, Carter, how are you? Dominic, I’m sorry to interrupt your dinner, but we have an emergency.”
An expression of worry flashes over Dominic’s face. He glances at me. “Please excuse me?”
“Of course.”
Dominic gets up. Carter frowns at his departing back. “That’s Gloria Walters,” he murmurs. “She heads up HR. I wonder what’s going on.” His phone beeps. He curses under his breath and silences it. “Sorry.”
“Not a problem.” I smile at him. “Never a dull moment, right?”
“Tell me about it.” His phone beeps again. “Damn it.”
“Get it,” I urge. “It might be urgent.”
He makes a rueful face. “This isn’t turning out to be the best date in the world.”
“I don’t know about that; these noodles are amazing. Go.”
He gets up, his phone to his ear. “This is Carter Hughes,” I hear him say as he walks toward the front entrance.
I finish my noodles. Since I’m all alone, I surreptitiously dip my finger in the sauce coating the small bowl and lick it clean. God, this is so tasty. I’m sure it’s too complicated for me to make, but I wonder if I can get the recipe for Piper.
Neither Dominic nor Carter is in sight. I wonder what their emergencies are about.
Speaking of emergencies, I haven’t checked my phone in hours. I probably should make sure none of my clients are in crisis. I pull it out. Piper’s texted me. Did you talk to them? She writes. What happened? Don’t leave us in suspense, Gabby.
I grin and start to type out a reply. Then I notice I have voicemail.
Oh, right. I totally forgot. My phone had rung during the drive, but traffic had been hell, and I hadn’t answered. I guess I should check in. It might be an emergency. Or it might be Vittoria Vitale, asking me if I’m going to play poker Thursday night. I very much doubt if I’m going to play, but I wouldn’t mind having brunch with her. She’d sounded lonely when we talked on Saturday.
I dial the number. A man’s voice fills my phone. “Hello, Ms. Alves,” he begins. “My name is Fredrick Jefferson. I’m a friend of Dominic Crawford. Dominic’s probably warned you I’d be calling. My daughter Nyla just made it to the top 24 on American Idol. She’s going to
be on TV.” His voice sounds wry. “She’s delighted, but her mother and I are less ecstatic. Nyla’s just fifteen.”
Why is he telling me all this?
“I’m rambling. We supervise Nyla’s social media usage pretty carefully, but in light of the changed circumstances, I wanted a professional to review her online presence, give her some advice, that kind of thing. Dominic spoke very highly of you.”
I go very still.
“I’m going to be on a business trip most of this week, but perhaps we could meet when I return?”
He reels off his phone number, tells me he’ll be back on Thursday night, and suggests Friday afternoon for a meeting. I’m not really listening. I’m trying to breathe through the shattering sense of betrayal.
Today wasn’t the first time Dominic offered to help me set up my company. I’ve turned him down every single time. I confided in him. I told him about that lousy London internship where they made me feel superfluous.
I thought Dominic understood why achieving my goals on my own was important to me.
I thought I could trust him to respect my wishes.
Wrong. And wrong again.
All of a sudden, I feel nauseous. I need to get out of here.
30
Carter
The phone has rung three times, one right after the other. I frown at the display. The number isn’t familiar to me. I’m about to call them back when it rings again. I pick up. “Hello?”
“Is this Carter Hughes?” It’s a woman, one whose voice I don’t recognize.
She sounds stressed. “Yes, it is,” I confirm. “Who am I talking to?” That’s probably direct to the point of rudeness, but in my defense, I was in the middle of dinner, and this mystery woman has called me four times.
“My name is Samira Khan,” she replies. “I’m Ed’s neighbor. His son is the same age as mine, and I watch Noah when Ed has to work.” She hesitates. “He gave me your number in case of an emergency.”
My blood runs cold. “What’s happened to Noah?”
“Noah? Nothing. Noah’s playing with Salman. It’s Ed. He was supposed to pick up the child five hours ago, but I haven’t heard from him.”
“You’ve tried calling him?”
“Yes, of course I’ve tried calling him.” She sounds exasperated. “The phone keeps ringing.” Her worry seeps through her voice. “Ed always calls when he’s running late, and he always calls Noah to say goodnight. He’s done neither today. He’s not picking up his phone either.”
The fucker. I clench my hand into a fist. He’s taken off. I’m sure of it. Perhaps the reality of taking care his son didn’t quite match the fantasy. Perhaps he decided again that he wasn’t ready to be a parent. Perhaps he’s drunk in a ditch somewhere. I don’t know what his story is, and I don’t care.
I went to mediation. I tried playing nice. And the asshole took off, abandoning Noah with a neighbor.
He couldn’t even make sure Noah was with family.
Ed Wagner better make sure I don’t find him, because when I do, I am going to beat him to a pulp. My nephew deserves so much better than his deadbeat of a father.
Was Chloe much better?
“Of course, Noah is welcome to stay over,” she continues. “Salman will be thrilled to have a friend spend the night.”
“I’ll come and pick him up,” I cut in. Noah’s going to be upset when he finds out Ed’s gone. He should be with family. Belatedly, I realize I’m being rude again. Damn it. “I’m sorry. I’m being abrupt. Thank you for watching Noah. He loves sleepovers. But—”
“If something has happened to Ed, you want to be with Noah. I understand.” She gives me her address, and I promise to be right there. Then I hang up.
Judge Bass thought Ed was ready to be a parent. Megan Noura told me that my insistence on sole custody wouldn’t go well. Renata Causi didn’t think the court would rule in my favor. Dr. Kang, Noah’s therapist, thought that Ed was a positive presence in my nephew’s life.
They were wrong, all of them. I’ve always known better. I’ve always known that Ed Wagner is a terrible human being.
Noah loves him. This will break his heart.
My anger fades into anxiety. I make my way back to the table. “I’m sorry, I have to go. Ed’s missing, and Noah’s with a neighbor.” Then I register Gabby’s face. She looks pale, and her expression is dull. “What’s the matter?”
“What do you mean, Ed is missing?”
“What happened?” I insist. “What’s wrong? Was it me tripping Norris?” Shit. I mean, the guy deserved far worse. I agree with Dominic—Gabby shouldn’t have to work with people like him. Still, I didn’t mean to make trouble for her at work. “The guy was wasted, Gabby. I’m willing to bet he’s not going to remember anything tomorrow.”
“It’s not Norris.” She doesn’t meet my eyes. “Look, it’s not important. Tell me what happened to Ed.”
Something’s wrong, but I don’t have time to probe—I have to get Noah. “He’s gone,” I say flatly. “Took off, most likely. His neighbor called. He was supposed to pick Noah up from her house five hours ago.”
“Five hours?” She sits up. “Carter, Ed could have been in an accident.”
“Or he realized that parenting isn’t as easy as he thought.”
“Carter.” Her gaze rests on me, steady and serious, seeing so much more than I intended to share. “Stop for a second and think. Really think. Search your heart. Ed loves Noah, you know that. Why would he leave without a word?”
I take a deep breath.
Because she’s right.
It isn’t Ed I’m angry with.
It’s Chloe.
I lost Chloe. First to the drugs, and then, when she overdosed. For so many years, I blamed Ed for the choices my sister made. I was so angry. So lost and betrayed when Chloe died, and for so many years, I’ve been raging at Ed.
The anger keeps the loss at bay.
Well, damn. Noah isn’t the only one who needs to see a therapist. “He probably wouldn’t,” I admit. “It doesn’t seem right.” Shit. Five hours. Unease swamps me. That’s a long time to go without checking in.
Dominic comes back just then. His face is pale. “Mitchell’s goons ambushed Zack Hewitt on his way into work,” he says tonelessly. “He’s in emergency surgery right now.”
Oh fuck.
“His kneecaps were smashed,” he continues. “He might never walk again.” He finally takes in our expressions. “What’s wrong?”
Fresh unease churns through me. “Ed is missing.”
“What?” Dominic’s eyes narrow. “Is Noah—”
“He’s fine.” So far. If Mitchell’s thugs are targeting the people closest to us, I need to get Noah right away. “He’s at a neighbor. I thought Ed took off. But now…” My voice trails off.
“Deal with Noah,” Dominic says soberly. “I’ll start a search for Ed.”
31
Gabriella
I can’t think; I can’t focus. The phone call I got keeps running through my head, but at the same time, it’s going to have to wait, because there are more important things right now than my hurt feelings. One of Dominic’s employees has been badly hurt. Ed Wagner is missing. Carter obviously thinks that Noah might be a target, which is why he took off in such a tearing hurry. The idea that someone might hurt a small child—rage twists my insides, smothering the hurt and betrayal I feel.
We need to talk about what Dominic did—we absolutely do. But not now. “Are you okay?” I ask. It’s a stupid question. He doesn’t look okay. He looks terrible.
“No,” he says simply. “How can I be? Zack is badly hurt because of me. And now Ed…” He runs his fingers through his hair. “I need to find him. Can we skip the rest of the meal? I’m sorry, Gabby. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
“You don’t need to apologize. Of course, we can skip dinner.” I get to my feet. Goodbye, fifteen-course meal of deliciousness. “How will you find Ed?”
“Call around. The cops,
the hospitals, I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “Carter had private detectives watching him, but he pulled them off after Judge Bass issued her order. He couldn’t have it traced back to him.”
“Private detectives.” I give him a small smile. “That sounds healthy and not at all obsessive.”
He flashes me a grin, and it’s so familiar that my heart aches. I’m crazy about Carter and Dominic. I’ve fallen in love with them. And they care about me too. They’re good men. Kind, generous, and thoughtful. They’re everything I could ask for. It feels silly and even petty to be angry with Dominic for what he did.
But I am.
I’m angry and betrayed and hurt beyond belief. Because he knew how important this was to me, and he steamrolled over my decision anyway.
Why, Dominic? Why did you do it?
The turmoil must show on my face because Dominic’s smile fades. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” I lie. There is a time and a place for the conversation we need to have, and that time isn’t now. I’m not a toddler; I refuse to throw a tantrum in the middle of a crisis. “I’m concerned, that’s all. Come on, let’s go find Ed.”
He fixes me with a piercing stare, and then nods. “Okay.” He stops to say something to our waiter, and then the two of us leave and walk to the elevator that will take us to Dominic’s penthouse suite.
My head is throbbing, and I feel the beginnings of a tension headache. An overwhelming need to be alone washes over me. I lean forward and hit the button for my floor. “Do you mind if I get off here? I’m going to change into something more comfortable and swallow an ibuprofen. Call me when you find Ed?”
He surveys me for another long moment. “Headache?”
I nod.
He tips my chin up and brushes his lips over mine. “I love you,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry about our date. Get some sleep, okay? I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
Shock punches me. Did Dominic just say he loves me? Or am I hearing things? The elevator glides to a stop before I can respond or react, and the doors open. I take a half-step out. A minute ago, I wanted to get the hell away. Now, I don’t want to get out of the elevator. My emotions are swinging back and forth like a pendulum on steroids.
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