It had been a mistake to meet him tonight. She didn't want another complication in her life and a relationship, especially a long-distance relationship, would be a huge issue to deal with. She already had a penchant for making things more difficult than they needed to be. But it was Ace.
Anyway, it was too late to change her mind: Ace got out of a cab a few feet from the deli door. He wore a well-tailored brown suit, a bolo tie with something glittering at the throat fastening, and a buff-colored cowboy hat. His sun-touched, dark hair was a little longer than she remembered, and he'd grown a moustache, but otherwise, he was tall and broad-shouldered, with a purposeful stride in his pointed-toe boots, like she remembered him. Exactly like she pictured him when she went to bed sometimes. She fell asleep imagining him without his shirt, his biceps rippling and chest solid and broad. Those mental images made for restless dreams, though, and she shook her head to clear it.
"Hey there, li'l girl."
She looked up and he was there. Her lungs froze up and she had to gasp before she spoke. "Ace." She stood and offered her hand.
He looked at her hand for a moment then took it and pulled her in for a hug.
She tried not to get lost in his warm embrace. She tried hard. But it was so good to be held, so safe there, like the world of sick mothers and bill collectors and snide photographers didn't exist. Eventually, though, the hug loosened and he took a step back.
Ace's milk-chocolate eyes assessed her from toes to hairline and he grinned broadly beneath his dark moustache. "You look like a peach pie on a summer day, sweetheart." His accent was sexy, a drawl like in old western movies.
She beamed, and forced her face to take on a less transparent expression. "Thank you, Ace. You look pretty tasty yourself." Tasty. She could have smacked herself. Oh yes, she'd like to taste him, but that wasn't going to happen. He was a man she couldn't push around, one who would make demands on her, who'd father her as much as any lover could. She didn't need a father, or a lover. She had her work, such as it was, and the care of her mother and her cat, and that was all she could handle.
Still, here she was with Ace. A few minutes of fantasy wasn't like a commitment, after all.
They were led to a table by a blue-haired lady in a pink uniform and white apron.
Ace looked over the menu, then turned to her. "What am I havin'?"
"Bagels, lox and cream cheese. Real bagels, one plain, one onion, none of that blueberry bagel nonsense. Maybe some smoked whitefish, too. Do you like fish?"
"I like bass and catfish. I have a little grouper when I'm down in Corpus Christi."
She smiled, happy to be on ground she could control. "Whitefish, too, in that case."
The blue-haired waitress returned and Gabby ordered for them both, topping the order off with Dr. Brown's Cel-Ray Tonic.
"I hope this isn't too exotic for you, Ace. But I thought you'd want to get the feel for real New York bagels and all the stuff that goes with them."
He patted her hand. His was so warm and big, his calluses a little scratchy. "I like exotic. Don't get much deli food in Texas."
They made chit-chat about the weather and the people they knew in common—Liv and Trey. Their food arrived, and other than a few appreciative noises, silence descended, but it was a comfortable silence.
Pushing his plate away, Ace smiled at her and she couldn't help but smile back. She smiled a lot around him, she realized, when he wasn't spanking her, that is.
“That was some fine food. I see what you mean about bagels, the ones we have in Texas aren’t like this, they’re bigger and fluffier, less tasty and chewy. I like this whitefish quite a bit too. Not so sure ‘bout that Cel-Ray Tonic though, I can’t say as I’ve ever had carbonated celery juice before. Didn’t know celery had juice, for all that.”
"It’s an acquired taste, I guess. Are you going to be in Jersey long?" It sounded like an invitation to another date, and Gabby wanted to take it back as soon as she said it.
"A few days," he told her. "There are a number of details about the factory that need lookin' into."
So much could happen in a few days, but when it was over, he'd go back to Texas and she'd still be in New Jersey. In many ways, that was optimal, if one was going to have a lover. He wouldn't hang around to demand time she could ill-afford to give, and they couldn't make any foolish commitments because they'd only have a brief time together.
And besides, he was, by far, the sexiest man she'd ever met. Male models didn't hold a candle to him either in looks or personality. If she could keep a cool head about it, she could have her cake and eat it too. And how she'd like to eat him all up.
"Have you ever been to New York?"
"Yeah, a few years ago. A girl—a friend of mine wanted to see some plays and so we came to Manhattan for the theatre and the sights."
So, she couldn't entice him with sightseeing. "Did you go to Coney Island?"
"With rides and such? I can't say I'm much for that kinda thin'."
"Oh come on, Ace. There's a boardwalk and hot dogs and lots of people-watching."
He appeared to think about it, but shook his head. "I have a better idea."
"Oh?"
"Come out to supper with me tomorrow night."
"That's your idea?"
He nodded. "I heard about a rooftop restaurant and bar in someplace called Hoboken."
"Hoboken?"
"Yeah, that’s it. Hoboken. A restaurant called Fanciful. Have you been there?"
Fanciful was perhaps the most expensive restaurant in New Jersey, and reservations were made months in advance. "Uh, Ace. I don't think that's—"
He patted her hand. "No worries, li'l girl."
Well, they could always find an Outback Steakhouse if the evening fell apart. She smiled. "Okay."
"Now, best we get y'all back home. It's gettin' late and you said you have to work tomorrow. I know models start mighty early."
"We only start early if we're on location, but as it happens we are doing an outdoor shoot in Central Park tomorrow. I have to catch the train at about 7:00 a.m." She loved the way he smiled, and his new—well, new to her—moustache was so appealing. She wanted to feel it brush her lips. Gabby knew she was staring, but she couldn't help it.
He took her hand and gently pulled her out of the booth, until they stood together. "Did you drive yourself?"
She shook her head.
"In that case, I have the pleasure of takin' you home. I got the cab driver's card. I'll call him."
Ace looked like a rancher, with his bolo tie and cowboy hat, but he was surprisingly city-savvy. Gabby was impressed. She went to the ladies room, and when she got back, Ace was waiting at the front door for her. "Your carriage awaits, m'lady," he said with a big grin.
A giggle burbled up. She sketched a shallow curtsey. "Thank you, kind sir."
He laughed, and waved her toward the waiting cab.
It took about ten minutes to get to her apartment house, a modest brick building with white trim and a spindly tree in front. He opened the car door for her, told the driver to wait for him, and escorted her up the stairs to the entry.
She wanted to invite him up, but knew her mother would embarrass her by asking a thousand questions. They'd get no privacy, even for an innocent conversation. "My mother is home."
"I know." He cupped her face in his hands. His eyes were so brown, with little gold flecks, like yellow stars.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
She felt his moustache before his lips touched hers, but soon the world faded out and there was no one and nothing but Ace and her. His teeth worried her lower lip until she gasped, and his tongue found hers as they deepened their embrace. He kissed her like that, demanding and coaxing all at once, for several minutes, then eased away.
Her breasts felt cold as her body parted from his. She couldn't think of anything to say; her brain was mush.
"G'night, li'l girl."
He took the keys from her hand and unlocked the d
oor, nudging her in and handing her keys back to her.
"I'll pick you up at 6:30. Wear somethin' pretty."
"Mmm-hmm. G'night Ace."
She turned and oozed up the interior stairs like so much trembling jelly.
Chapter 2
"I don't like it."
"Mama, it's a date. I've been on dates before."
"I'm feeling awful today, Gabby. Why do you have to go?" Anita Appleby fussed with the throw over her lap as she sat in her cushy recliner. The chair dominated the room, but no more so than Anita's grumpy personality.
"I told Ace I'd go, Mama. And Mrs. Riley from down the hall is going to come check on you a few times. You like her."
Anita sniffed. "Yeah, she's okay. Is he going to come upstairs and meet me before he drags you away?"
Maybe agreeing to it would help her mother cope with being left alone two evenings in a row. "Is it important to you?"
"Yeah. I want you to be safe. You don't know this guy well."
If her mother knew what she'd experienced with Ace already, she'd try to forbid Gabby from ever seeing him again. And there was the age issue. Ace and her mother were the same age, since her mother had had her at only eighteen. Anita was not going to like that one bit.
"I know him well enough for a date, Mama. There might not be time for an introduction."
"Make time, Gabby."
Gabby made a non-committal sound and went back to the bathroom to finish brushing her hair. Her mother persisted, hollering through the apartment. "Where's he taking you?"
"Hoboken. To Fanciful."
"I read a review of that place in the Times. It's damned expensive. Is he trying to buy some pussy?"
"Mama!"
"Well, let's be honest, Gabby. You don't have more than that to offer."
That stung. Couldn't she offer conversation, a sense of humor, something pretty to look at? But maybe her mother was right. Maybe she should call and cancel before her fantasies were destroyed utterly.
She answered more defensively than she intended. "That's not what he's after. I know a creep when I meet one."
The woman was stubbornly persistent. "Why don't you let me make my own judgment?"
Gabby ground her teeth together. "Alright! I'll invite him up."
Anita relented a little. "I don't want my baby to get mixed up with the wrong sort of man, like I did."
"I know, Mama. Ace is nothing like my father. But I have to warn you, he's older than me."
Anita dismissed the warning. "Older is okay. It means he's getting established in his career. If he can afford Fanciful, he must be doing alright for himself."
Gabby remembered Ace's ranch and the fact that he was in New Jersey to investigate an investment and came to the same conclusion. She was not about to be bought like a streetlamp whore, though. "I doubt we'll get into Fanciful, Mama."
"Come help me up so I can fix my face and hair. Every step is agony for me these days."
Putting down her hairbrush, Gabby hurried over to her mother, like always. She reminded herself that her mother had made many sacrifices for her when Gabby was small and no father was around. But from the time she was twelve, Gabby had been doing the cooking and cleaning, the shopping and financial management. Her mother had been too depressed to do any of it, and her health had been deteriorating steadily. Gabby knew she was going to have to hire a day nurse to attend to her mother while Gabby was away at work. And it was going to have to be soon. But where would the money come from?
She made no excuses for herself. She wasn't great at modeling and didn't get the plum jobs because she didn't like it much. It was all she knew how to do to make decent money, though, and no other options presented themselves.
It wasn't long after her mother was coiffed and reseated in her chair Ace arrived. Gabby rang him in and waited on the stairs.
* * *
The inside of the apartment building was little dingy. He had not forgotten the bill collector comment from his brief conversation with Gabby's mother.
Seeing Gabby all dressed up in a black sheath dress and high heels pushed mundane financial issues out of his head. Her hair was silky-looking, dark and shiny, held back by rhinestone combs. Her curvy figure was enhanced by the fabric of her dress, and she hadn't been afraid of giving him some cleavage to look at. A bright silver cross hung above her breasts. Ace grinned from ear to ear with delight. He'd be mighty proud to take her out on the town.
"Aren't you the prettiest thing?"
Her cheeks went pink and she smiled. "Thank you."
He walked up a few steps toward her and offered his hand. "Ready to go?"
She didn't take his fingers. "Um, not quite. My mother wants to meet you."
Not unexpected. "Ah. Well, that can be arranged."
"I'm sorry." Her eyes went everywhere but to his face.
"Don't be sorry, li'l girl. I don't mind meetin' your mama."
Gabby turned and started to climb, her gait measured by the treads. "Try to keep an open mind, please. My mother has some...issues."
He followed her up the stairs. "I'm sure it'll be okay."
Sighing, she went down a dimly-lit hallway, stopping at a door marked 330. She paused with her hand on the knob. "If you don't want to do this—"
"Don’t worry, sweetheart. I'm fine with it."
It was a small apartment, barely big enough for two people. An unpleasant smell like a combination of camphor liniment and women's perfume hung in the air. A few bookshelves lined the walls and an older-model TV took a prominent position. There was a cheap pedestal in a corner, with a statue of the Virgin Mary on it, and a small votive burned nearby. In the center of the room, sitting bundled up in a throw-blanket, with an expression reminiscent of a queen bee, sat Gabriella's mother. She was overweight and round-faced, with slightly sagging jowls, and dark hair turning gray. A smile formed and unformed as she looked Ace over.
Ace tipped his hat politely. "Good evenin', ma'am. I'm Ace Journey." He strode forward to offer his hand, but she peered at him through watery brown eyes and a sneer formed on her face. He withdrew his hand.
"Ace, this is my mother, Anita Appleby."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Appleby."
"I'm not a missus anything, Mr. Journey. And you're not welcome here."
Tension pinched his shoulder blades together. He must have heard wrong. No one would be that rude. "I'm sorry?"
"Get out." Her voice had a nasal quality and a New Jersey accent. "Gabby, you're not going anywhere."
"Mama, you're embarrassing me."
The woman's dark eyes turned to her daughter. "You should be embarrassed. What were you thinking to get mixed up with a man so much older than you? He's got to be old enough to be your father."
"That's not your business, Mama."
"If it concerns you, it is my business." She turned back to Ace, who watched the exchange with growing ire. "Are you still here? Cradle robber! You should be ashamed of yourself, you pedophile. Find someone your own age!"
Ace didn't quite know what to say, faced with Anita's viciousness. He felt sorry for Gabby and had greater understanding of the pressures the young woman must be under. He didn't want to be rude, but he wasn't about to be so disrespected. "Your daughter is an adult, old enough to make her own decisions on who she'll date, ma'am. I realize you care about her deeply and want the best for her, but I'm not a man of low moral character, and don’t deserve to be spoken to that way. I assure you, I have the greatest respect for Gabby." He tipped his hat at Anita once again, then looked to Gabby. A calico cat was snaking its way around her ankles, purring. "Will you be comin' with me, Gabriella?"
She glanced at her mother, Ace, and back to her mother. "I love you, Mama, but this is my life. It's not about you." Gabby looked at the cat and snapped her fingers. "Mr. Sonny, sit."
Immediately, the cat sat down at her toes and stared up at her.
She reached into a small jar on the coffee table and held a morsel above Mr. Sonny's he
ad. "Sit up." The cat lifted his front feet off the floor and sat back, eyes still focused on Gabby. "Good kitty." She gave him the treat and he gulped it down. "Go lie down, Mr. Sonny." The cat delicately stepped toward a carpet-covered cat tower in the corner and crawled into the dark interior. One little mewl and he was silent.
Ace was more than a little impressed. He'd never seen a trained cat before. Gabby had some hidden special talents.
She gathered up a small purse and a soft burgundy wool wrap and turned to Ace, her jaw set. "Let's go."
"Gabby!" Her mother's voice was loud in the small room. "I said I forbid it."
Gabriella didn't turn to look at her mother, but instead, made her way to the door. "I'll tell Mrs. Riley that I'm leaving, Mama. Don't wait up for me."
Ace opened the door for Gabby and stepped aside so she could exit. Her mother had to get in the last word. "Slut!"
Gabby's little gasp and stiff posture as she crossed the threshold told Ace a lot about their relationship. He respected Gabby more for keeping a positive attitude though faced with such vicious derision.
Ace had rented a Lexus for the evening, determined to drive them to Hoboken himself. With GPS navigation, he figured it wouldn't be too tricky. Except for the computer's bland voice, the ride to Fanciful was silent. He reached for the satellite radio once, but thought better of it. There was silence, but at least it was honest.
He reached out and took Gabby's hand for a few minutes, giving it an affectionate squeeze. She didn't look at him, but squeezed his hand back with cold fingers.
There were valets aplenty at the restaurant, and they held the doors to the car and opened the large, carved wood doors to the restaurant. Inside, the design was chrome and glass, with mahogany accents. The smell of rich foods wafted into the foyer, accompanied by muted sounds of laughter and glassware from the bar nearby.
Ace-High Flush Page 2
