by Jami Alden
“You’re a great little actress, Reggie, I’ll give you that, and your fake look of confusion is almost convincing.” He ground his palms against his eyes for a moment. “Or who knows. Maybe you were so sure I’d never figure it out that you don’t even remember what I’m talking about.”
He clicked on her screen once more, this time logging into Natalie’s e-mail account and quickly pulling up a message. One Reggie had sent from Santa Fe.
He read her message back to her:
“With things so quiet, I don’t have an excuse to keep Gabe around. If only my little stalker friend would send one of his special messages, maybe Gabe would forget all about this other job offer.
Galvanized by rage, Reggie practically exploded from her desk chair. “That is your big piece of evidence? A sarcastic e-mail I wrote to my sister when I thought you were going to leave?” This was too much. She knew he had trust and intimacy issues, but this was ridiculous. “If I was so intent on keeping you around, why would I encourage you to take Malcolm’s offer? Why would I tell Natalie to start calling other security firms?”
“I don’t know, Reggie, and I really don’t care.”
He started to turn away.
“How can you do this?” she demanded, her voice cracking. “How can you tell me that you love me and think I’d be capable of this?”
“I fell in love with a lie. I was just too stupid to see it.”
Reggie stood, shaking, as Gabe walked slowly to the door. He’d almost made it to the front door before she caught him. “Gabe, don’t.” She grabbed his arm, her heart bursting in her chest. “If you just listen you’ll see there’s another explanation.”
His eyes killed her, cold once again, looking through her as though she were dead. “I’ll have Marjorie send you a final invoice.”
Chapter Seventeen
Two hours later, Gabe found himself at his sister’s apartment. After he left Reggie’s he’d started walking aimlessly, with no idea where he was going. Eventually he ended up here, at the flat his sister and brother-in-law kept in Pacific Heights.
Ironically, it was less than half a mile away from Reggie’s place.
Brian, a partner at a venture capital firm, had made an ass-load of money before the Internet went bust, and he and Adrienne spent most of the time in their huge house in Woodside. But they kept the three-bedroom apartment in the city for the times they craved a more cosmopolitan pace.
Back when he was still in the military, he’d often stayed here when he was on leave, and in the year he’d worked for Malcolm, he’d used it when he was in San Francisco on business.
He fumbled for the spare key he always kept on his keychain and let himself in, breathing a slow sigh of relief when it appeared Adrienne and Brian weren’t in residence.
Not that he didn’t love his sister, or even his brother-in-law, for that matter. But right now he couldn’t face their probing questions. Fortunately, he’d kept several changes of clothes and a full array of toiletries here, since he hadn’t had the presence of mind to pack up his stuff before he left Reggie’s apartment.
An image invaded his brain, one of Reggie smiling shyly as she shoved aside a pile of underwear to make room for his boxers and socks.
Slumping down in an overstuffed armchair, Gabe fought the onslaught of tears threatening to choke him. Ridiculous that the memory of his boxer briefs nestled against her delicate, lacy panties made him want to bawl like a baby.
God had he ever fucked up.
Once again he’d thrown his career away over a woman. He’d been taken in and let his emotions get involved; now he was suffering the consequences.
He scrambled to hold on to the icy numbness that had settled in as he wandered aimlessly around the city. He didn’t want to feel, didn’t want to face the fact that he’d fallen, fallen completely, stupidly, balls out in love with a liar.
She’d lied to him.
Even now part of him struggled to find a way not to believe it.
But what choice did he have?
The evidence was all there, in black and white, no matter that his heart screamed that she couldn’t be that big a liar.
Hadn’t he learned the hard way not to be led by his heart or other interested organs? He was a hothead, he knew that, knew he had to be more careful than most to evaluate a situation coolly, calmly, rationally.
And though it felt like swallowing glass to admit it, the evidence Malcolm presented had only one rational conclusion.
If he hadn’t been so blinded by lust, he would have seen it sooner. The pattern of escalation was all off. The timing of incidents was just too perfect. And the way the stalker seemed to know just enough, but not too much, about Reggie’s whereabouts stunk of Natalie’s involvement.
What if there’s someone else, someone who could get the information, someone you never suspected?
No. He could drive himself crazy tilting at windmills, but Malcolm had presented the facts in indisputable detail. Gabe knew his friend was one of the best at gathering intelligence, and Gabe knew he wouldn’t have come to the conclusion that Reggie and her sister were behind everything if he hadn’t been completely certain. Even so, Gabe had protested, questioned every piece of evidence his friend had presented, desperately searching for another explanation.
In the end, Malcolm had informed him with deep regret that there was no other viable explanation.
He didn’t know how long he sat there in the fading November light, staring at the ceiling as tears burned like acid down his cheeks.
“Reggie, you have to calm down,” Natalie frantically met Tyler’s anxious gaze.
Cupping her hand over the receiver, she whispered, “She’s hysterical. I can’t figure out what’s going on. Something really bad is happening.” Tears welled as all she heard from the other end were Reggie’s garbled sobs. “She never gets like this, not even when the stalker killed Rex.”
As Tyler pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and left the office to give her privacy, Natalie felt her breathing accelerate dangerously and scolded herself to keep it together. She might have been the more dramatic of the two, but it would do Reggie no good at all if Natalie lost her shit too.
By focusing really, really hard, Natalie was able to make out about one word in five. “He’s gone,” “left,” “liar,” “e-mails.” Nothing made any sense.
It didn’t sound like anyone had died, and the stalker hadn’t attacked or injured her in any way. From what Natalie could understand, this had something to do with Gabe. The only course of action was to listen patiently and make appropriate noises to assure Reggie that she was listening, even if she couldn’t understand a damn thing through Reggie’s uncharacteristic hysteria.
Finally, after about ten minutes, the sobs had faded to hiccupping gulps, and Reggie seemed capable of stringing more than two intelligible words together at a time.
As she finally pieced together what had happened, Natalie felt her blood begin to boil. “He thinks we faked it?” Tyler shuffled back into the office, setting a diet soda in front of her with an inquiring look.
“Yes,” Reggie gasped. For a second, Natalie feared her sister would dissolve again. But Reggie took a deep, fortifying breath and blew her nose. “To get publicity. He thinks we took the initial mailing and decided to run with it. He said if the stalker was real, he would have escalated by now and tried to approach me in person or attack me or something.” Reggie’s wet swallow was audible through the phone. “Like he wanted me to be hurt or something.”
Natalie slumped back into her chair, hating the sensation of helplessness that gripped her. Reggie was always the strong one. Whether struggling with a new career, facing a bad breakup, or dealing with their mother’s incessant criticism, Reggie seemed to have an unending capacity to pick herself up, dust herself off, and get on with her life.
But now she sounded…broken.
A trickle of panic crept up her spine as she realized their roles had reversed. For her entire life she’d re
lied on Reggie to help her out of any number of tight spots, had always known that when she got in a jam, big sister would bail her out, no matter how much Natalie acted like an ungrateful bitch.
As she listened to her sister on the other line, struggling not to fall apart and failing miserably, Natalie realized what a huge burden she’d placed on Reggie’s shoulders for all these years.
“It’s okay, Reg,” Natalie said in a soothing, nurturing tone she’d never known she possessed, “I’m coming over and we’ll figure out how to get through this.”
By the time Natalie arrived with shopping bags full of Ben and Jerry’s, Mallomars, and red wine, Reggie had momentarily set aside her grief and was indulging in a fit of raging, healthy temper.
“Can you fucking believe him?” she cried as she opened the door at Natalie’s knock.
Natalie’s eyes widened at the abruptness of her greeting or at her unusual use of profanity, or perhaps both.
Reggie didn’t fucking care. It felt good to say that word, even in her head. And other words too. Like asshole. Or better yet, fucking asshole.
“Why would anyone make up a stalker?” she ranted as Natalie rummaged around in her kitchen and returned bearing two pints of ice cream, a spoon stuck in each. She passed Reggie the Chubby Hubby and set chocolate low-fat yogurt down for herself. Natalie made another trip, returning with an open bottle of cabernet, two tumblers, and the Mallomars.
Reggie poured almost half the bottle into her glass and gulped it like soda. She chased it with a bite of ice cream, but the rich vanilla mixed with chocolate-covered pretzels congealed on her tongue, nearly making her gag.
But the wine, she discovered, went down silky smooth.
Her rage continued through the first glass, egged on by Natalie as they called Gabe every foul name they could think of and labeled him a paranoid nut job.
But midway through the next glass she started to get maudlin, and by the third she was close to weeping and berating herself for ever thinking she and Gabe could have worked. “It’s better this way,” she said sullenly, “him ending it before I could mess it up.”
She shook off Natalie’s protests. “I can’t have a boyfriend right now. I have too many obli…obla…” Her wine-thick tongue tripped over the word and she gave up. “I have too much to do. And Gabe, it’s like he sucks up all my energy. He never would have been cool with waiting around until I had time to spend with him. So it’s good this way,” she said with drunken optimism, determined to see a bright side if it killed her. “Now I can be pissed at him because it’s his fault, and I won’t have to blame myself later for screwing things up with the guy I wanted to marry.”
Natalie leaned over and caught her in a tight hug. Reggie buried her face in her slender shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Reg.” The heartfelt sympathy in her sister’s voice was enough to send her right back into the pit of despair.
“How could he think I would lie like that?” she sobbed. “What kind of person does he think I am?”
That was the real kicker. That even after she’d opened herself up to him, let him see the hopes and fears that really drove her, he turned around and twisted it all against her in his mind until somehow she was the villain. A woman capable of deceit, the kind of woman who would use anyone and any situation to get ahead.
Her insides shattered into a million tiny fragments.
She sent Natalie back to Tyler’s shortly after, assuring her she’d be fine and needed to be alone. Natalie protested, reminding her that the stalker was still out there somewhere.
Emotionally wasted, Reggie couldn’t summon the least smidgeon of fear. “I changed the alarm code. I’ll be fine.”
Besides, maybe the pervert will break in and put me out of my misery.
After Natalie left, Reggie flipped on the TV in a vain attempt to drown out the lonely echo in her head and worked her way steadily through another bottle of wine. If only Gabe would listen, really listen to her, he would see that he was wrong, she was incapable of the things he’d accused.
Before she knew it, the phone was in her hand and her last sober brain cell was screaming at her that drunk dialing was never a good idea. Ignoring it, she summoned up her considerable liquor courage and entered the number for Gabe’s emergency cell.
“This is Bankovic,” he muttered as though she’d woken him out of a deep sleep or he’d had indulged in a few cocktails himself.
“Is everything all right?” his voice cracked over the line, startling her out of her frozen silence.
“Gabe, it’s me,” she whispered feebly. “I just want to talk to you.”
“Are you in immediate physical danger?”
Goosebumps formed on her bare arms at his icy tone. “No,” she whispered, barely audible.
“Don’t contact me again.”
Chapter Eighteen
Reggie jumped as Max snapped his fingers in front of her nose. “Sorry. I spaced out for a minute.”
Max sighed, shuffling and restacking the notes scattered around her coffee table. “It’s fine. We’re almost done here, anyway.”
They were going through the list of potential show topics for the upcoming season. Even though she wasn’t scheduled to start shooting again until March, she didn’t mind getting ahead of the game.
Besides, since she’d handed in final revisions on her book and wrapped shooting on Simply Delicious, USA nearly a month ago, she needed something to fill the hours.
Anything to keep her mind off of him.
Which was why she’d invited Max over to review show ideas even though she was leaving for New York tomorrow for the Cuisine Network’s Live Christmas bash.
Sure, she still had to test her recipe for the live Christmas Eve special, wrap presents and deliver them to Natalie for distribution since she was missing Christmas, and pack.
But who needed to sleep?
Or go to bed at all, when most nights she lay awake, staring at the ceiling, feeling hollow as a jack-o’-lantern. Like someone had scraped out her insides with an ice cream scoop.
She walked Max to the door, taken aback when he pulled her into an awkward embrace. Max wasn’t generally the most touchy-feely guy. Still, it felt nice to be held by a man, even if he was her gay producer. She leaned into him, wrinkling her nose at the scent of expensive, potent cologne. Gabe had always smelled perfect, like dryer sheets and soap.
She sniffed harder, driving the memory of Gabe’s scent from her brain.
“You need to take better care of yourself, Reggie,” Max admonished.
Smiling feebly, she stepped out of his arms. “I’m fine. And now that the stalker seems to have relented, it’s one less thing I have to stress about.”
As though to mock her, since Gabe ripped her apart she hadn’t heard one word from the pervert. Zip. Nada. Zilch. As though he was playing into Gabe’s assertion that it was all some big scam.
“And I’m saving a boatload of money not paying for full-time security.” That’s it, Reggie, always look on the bright side, no matter how dim. It was true, though. Over Natalie’s protests, she’d refused to hire another full-time security person, but had given in when Natalie insisted that she at least have someone escort her to public appearances.
Otherwise, she made do with friends walking her home and having her neighbors be on the lookout for any weirdos.
Max reached for the doorknob.
“Wait,” she cried, rushing to enter the security code for her alarm. That was one procedure she hadn’t abandoned: setting the alarm every time she entered her apartment, whether she was alone or not. Even though the stalker had laid off, she wasn’t completely foolish.
“Sorry. Wouldn’t want to summon the cavalry,” Max said in an odd, breathless tone. “Especially now that your goon has abandoned you.”
Turning, she got the oddest sensation that Max had been staring at her ass. But now his eyes were pinned firmly, innocently on her face.
Abandoned. What a perfect word choice. She wished Max Merry Chris
tmas and locked the door behind him.
“This is really how you want to spend Christmas?”
Gabe tilted his head against the back of the overstuffed armchair and met Adrienne’s irritated gaze. He took a sip from his fourth—or was it fifth?—scotch. Who cared. He wasn’t working today, anyway. The CEO he’d been hired to protect, a friend of Brian’s, was safe at home and well guarded by his domestic security staff.
“You’d rather sit here by yourself, drinking yourself into a stupor, than come with us to Brian’s sister’s house.”
Gabe took another sip of scotch, pretending to consider the two options. Spend Christmas Eve by himself getting plowed, or go to his brother-in-law’s sister’s house where he’d have to act civilized and make small talk with someone else’s family.
No contest.
“Yep, I’ll be fine. I even have a Hungry Man turkey dinner waiting in the freezer. Besides,” he said, flicking on the fifty-two-inch plasma TV mounted on the wall, “it’s too late now, anyway.”
“Really, we’ll wait if you want to come.”
Even though Brian waited at the door with her coat, Adrienne didn’t seem inclined to leave. She stared down at him, like if she held his gaze long enough, her powers of mind control would convince him to get his ass out of the chair and into the shower.
“Hi everyone, I’m Reggie Caldwell. Welcome to Simply Delicious.”
Adrienne gasped and Gabe instinctively lifted the remote, thumb frozen over the channel up button.
Caught red fingered.
“You’re pathetic, you know that?” Adrienne said, her voice full of sympathy.
Didn’t he know it. Crying in his scotch while he watched on TV the woman who’d pulverized his heart.
He felt the comforting warmth of his sister’s hand on his shoulder as she stood next to the chair, both riveted by Reggie’s face on the screen.
“She looks so nice on TV,” Adrienne murmured. “And the way you talked about her…it’s hard to believe she’d do what you said.”
