I gave it one last effort and stood up on my tippy-toes. And that’s when I saw him.
My brother.
“Did you see it?” Brandy asked, completely curious.
“It’s not an it. Or maybe it is,” I said quietly.
“Be nice,” Carla chimed in. “Lots of time has passed. Give him a chance.”
“It’s Aaron,” I said, looking at Brandy. “My brother.”
My stomach knotted, and I shook my head. He abandoned our family. I couldn’t just get over that.
“I never knew you had a brother?” Brandy asked, her eyes quizzical.
“Barely,” I whispered.
“That’s kind of a big thing not to mention,” Brandy began.
“It’s a long story,” I muttered.
The chicken satay was no longer sitting well in my stomach. I wanted to get Bernie and leave. But if I did that, my brother might take that as a sign that he’d won. Of what I wasn’t sure, but regardless, I wasn’t going to give him any power. Nope. I was going to be the adult in the situation and would go say hi.
“Can I see him? What’s he wearing?” Brandy asked.
“I’ll introduce you,” I said, turning to Brandy.
“Are you sure you’re okay with that?” she whispered.
“Totally.”
“I’m proud of you,” Carla whispered, squeezing my hand. “Give him a chance.”
I looked over at Carla and attempted to smile, but if anything appeared on my lips, I was sure it looked forced.
“This isn’t the kind of thing you can spring on someone,” I muttered. “I’m not letting you and dad off the hook for this one.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, your father felt so bad about this that I’m sure what he has planned next will make up for it.” Carla pressed her lips together and sighed. “I’m going to make sure everything’s going smoothly with the silent auction part of the night,” she said, excusing herself.
“Let’s get this over with,” I said.
Brandy only nodded and followed right behind me as I wandered toward my brother. It had been almost ten years since I’d seen him, and here he showed up like he had a right to be involved with our family. The anger was building with every step toward him, and I only prayed I could act somewhat civil. I had pushed away the sadness long ago, and now only anger resided in the hollowness he’d left behind.
He was in the far corner talking to some people I didn’t recognize, which wasn’t that abnormal at events like these, but it made me wonder why he knew anyone around here. I kept my head down as I wound through the scattered tables with the elaborate floral arrangements towering on each. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to wait until the people he was with left, or if I wanted to do a casual introduction with others around to possibly diffuse the situation. Kind of put him on notice that I wasn’t going to fall for his shit. Whatever it was.
“Are you going to be okay?” Brandy whispered behind me. “Your shoulders look like they’re up to your ears.”
I nodded and realized we were no more than ten feet away from him. Maybe I really did just want to run. But it was too late.
“Gabby,” my brother called. I looked up at him speechless. The people around him disbanded, and I froze in place.
He looked startlingly like my father. His dark hair was cut short and his brown eyes held a softness in them. But I knew the kindness was false. It had to be. His tuxedo was fitted with fine details that only meant it was his, so he must have been doing well.
Instinctively, I reached for Brandy’s hand like I was suddenly in high school again and pulled her with me to meet my brother. He was standing in front of one of the emergency exits, and I got an overwhelming desire to jet through it.
“Hello, Aaron,” I said calmly, looking into his eyes. “Surprised to see you here.”
“I’m guessing dad didn’t tell you I was coming,” he replied.
“Dad?” I asked, releasing Brandy’s hand. “Interesting. You ran out on us, and I never heard from you, but you can call him dad?”
“A lot of things happened. Many that I’m not proud of, but—”
“Save it,” I said, putting up my hand. “This is my best friend, Brandy. Imagine her surprise tonight finding out I even had a brother.”
I caught a glimpse of hurt in my brother’s eyes right before his eyes shifted from me to Brandy, and then I saw that familiar flicker. The same look he’d get when he’d sneak girls into his room back when he was in high school. His smile changed to a cocky grin, and he extended his hand toward her.
“Aaron,” he said, shaking her hand.
“I know. I heard,” she replied coolly.
Yes! Score one for Brandy.
He nodded and grinned, letting go of her hand.
“I didn’t want to ignore you all night, although that was my natural inclination, but I think it’s time I go find a seat,” I muttered.
“Gabby, I hope you’ll give me a chance to explain things. Maybe over coffee?” His eyes dropped to the tip of my scar and his expression fell, but I didn’t give him enough time to inquire. One of the many things he’d missed once he left my life.
“Sure,” I muttered, turning around and looking for any way to escape.
The room was filling up as people drank their cocktails and chatted amongst one another. The string quartet in the far corner was playing a delicate melody, and my world felt like it was spinning. I had dismissed him as a brother years ago. I hadn’t even known if he was still alive. I didn’t know anything about him and yet here he was.
“You going to be okay?” Brandy asked.
“I will be. I don’t understand why he’s back. Shit. I don’t even know where he’s been or why he left in the first place.” I sighed and spotted my father nervously looking over at us.
“I’m here for whenever you want to talk about it,” she offered.
“Thanks. I hate how something like this can throw me back into feeling twelve again, like I have absolutely no control over my life...again.” I stopped. “Actually, that’s how old I was when he left, and he never even said goodbye to me.”
“That’s pretty cold,” she agreed. “Did your dad know why or tell you anything?”
“No. My dad didn’t know what had happened either. My brother left a note, but it was vague,” I said. “I don’t want this to dampen our fun for the night.”
I looked at Brandy, and she looked as if the champagne from the ride over had worn off, and I was sure mine had. She gave me a quick hug, and we made our way through the crowd to our assigned table, stopping only once to grab a glass of wine and a mini crab cake before we took our seats.
The emcee was making his way to the front of the room, which signaled the start of the main auction was to begin. I grabbed the program that was at our table and began looking at the list of items up for grabs.
Helicopter ride for two over Seattle
Fifty Shades of Romance Getaway
7 Ct. Total Weight Diamond Tennis Bracelet
Orcas Island Weekend Getaway with Moped rentals
(Two) Custom motorcycles designed by JB Metal Works
“Anything look interesting?” Brandy asked.
I stopped staring at the list and looked over at her.
“Check this out… a Fifty Shades themed weekend,” I started laughing. “Imagine what that would look like for most couples.”
Brandy busted up and I pointed at the motorcycles. “But this looks pretty cool.”
“You and your two-wheeled obsession,” she huffed. “I hate the thought of you on those.”
“You sound like Carla,” I said, poking her arm.
She shrugged and took a sip of her wine.
I watched my father and Carla make their way over to our table. I quickly counted the number of seats and tried to calculate who might be sitting around the table and prayed that my brother wouldn’t be one of them.
My father stood behind me and placed his hand on my shoulder.
/> “Doing okay?” my father asked, squeezing my shoulder.
“Been better. Thanks for asking,” I said quietly. Turning in my seat to look at him, I placed my hand on top of his. “You owe me a really big explanation for this. I don’t understand why you’d spring this on me, especially in public. You’re just lucky I’m not into making spectacles.”
My father pressed his lips together and nodded, removing his hand from underneath mine. “You’re right.”
He took his seat next to Brandy, and Carla sat next to me, placing her glass of Riesling on the table.
“Let’s find our seats everyone,” the emcee began. “I’m Jake and I’ll be your host for tonight’s events. I see many of you have already found your way to the silent auction, and I thank you for your generous bids. As you know the donations from tonight’s event will be going to the Brinkle family, whose son was struck in a hit-and-run accident. They had lost their medical insurance the month before the accident, so the bills have been crippling. Let’s show our support and keep the hostility low and the bids high as you duke it out for the donated items. There will be one slight variation on the program. The motorcycles that are up for bid will actually be what kicks off tonight’s event. So without further delay, let’s start the festivities.”
The crowd broke into applause while I scanned the audience, searching for the one person I didn’t want to see. Unfortunately as I was looking in one direction, he managed to sit down at our table from the other. I tensed in anticipation and felt my father’s eyes on me waiting for my reaction, which I refused to give. Instead, I scanned the tables surrounding us as if I was looking for something, and maybe I was. Maybe I was hoping for a piece of the puzzle to fall automatically into place. As much as I hated to admit it, I really did want to find out the reason he left home, left me. I continued to sit expressionless, attempting to push down the distress from having a familiar stranger sit across from me, when the audience began shifting as two motorcycles were wheeled to the front of the room.
Brandy let out a loud gasp, as I turned to see the beautiful machinery being rolled into place.
As the bike’s wheels turned, my eyes slowly ran up the sparkling fender landing on the man pushing the bike. My pulse raced out of control as I recognized the guy behind the bike. It was the stranger we’d rear-ended only a couple hours earlier.
Maybe things were looking up…
I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was him—the guy Bernie rear-ended on the way here. Only now he looked even sexier as he rolled out the large machine.
My eyes scanned the closest chopper, stopping at the beautiful curvature of the metal as it greeted the sloping handlebars and the man’s fingers that firmly gripped the brakes as he parked the motorcycle in place for viewing. My heart continued to beat quickly as I watched him take a rag and quickly shine the tank. The muscles in his forearm retracted with each wipe, and I felt my cheeks sting as I thought about his fingers elsewhere.
“Looks like someone’s enjoying the view,” Brandy whispered, giving me a wide grin. “You know I don’t mind going home in the limo alone.”
I flicked her bare knee with my fingers and shook my head. She pretended to pout from the pain, but I knew she loved every minute of my reaction. I had vowed my final year in college that I was over men, and I had stuck to that. I wasn’t going to let myself down now. However, I couldn’t help but beg off Brandy and return my attention back to the man up front. His broad shoulders contrasting with his narrow waist looked even better from this vantage point, and I was having a hard time even noticing the bike.
I detected something different about this guy than when I saw him on the bridge. Instead of the overly cocky man who greeted us on the bridge, I saw a glimpse of tenderness—shyness—maybe. A true artist worried about how his creation would be received, and it warmed me inside. It reminded me of the same expression my mom would get before one of her shows would open.
When he stood up, my back stiffened while I anticipated the crowd’s reaction with him, and I also couldn’t get my eyes off him. Relief spread through me as the audience broke into applause, and everyone began ogling the fine pieces of craftsmanship on display. He turned to face the audience, dipping his head in a grateful bow, and stepped away from the chopper he brought out, as did the other person holding the one next to him.
“Oh. My. God,” Brandy muttered. “There is no such thing as a coincidence.”
“Whatever,” I said, attempting to dismiss her.
“Let’s just hope his helper isn’t his girlfriend,” she muttered.
I hadn’t even really noticed the other person rolling out the bike, which was saying something considering how gorgeous she was. She looked to be five-eight and had legs that never stopped. Her platinum hair was in a Betty Paige style, and I wanted to hate her. She was too beautiful and so were her bright red lips. If that was what he was into, my fantasy was a lost cause. I had thick, dark blonde hair that enjoyed doing what it wanted, and short legs and a long body. I wasn’t sure quite how that happened but it did. All my jeans always dragged on the ground and got the tiny frayed bits.
“Thanks for pointing that out,” I teased.
I turned my attention back to the man, and I felt the butterflies return that I had worked so hard at batting away on the bridge. As I watched this man reveal a piece of himself through his craft, I began imagining what that must feel like. The emcee began describing the first bike, and the guy began showing off the bike. As he extended his arms toward the bike, his muscles tightened along his forearms, and I wasn’t sure if the heat I was feeling inside was going to be as obvious as it felt. He tapped the leather seat, and as he did so, he raised his head and our eyes connected. It was as if he knew where I had been sitting this entire time. To my dismay, he caught me looking, but he didn’t look away. Instead, his arrogant smile returned and he gave me a wink, locking his eyes on mine. My cheeks burned, and I reached for a sip of water, shaking my head and refusing to give him another look.
The emcee took the first bid, and the auction began rolling, and that’s when I realized this was the second surprise. My father was in a bidding war for one of the motorcycles, and it was for me. Carla began her usual lecturing about the potential hazards of riding a bike in an attempt to stop my father from continuing to bid. But there was no use. This was part of his plan, and he was going to win this bike for me come hell or high water. She probably only had known it was something on the auction list that he had his sights on but not what in particular.
In an attempt to calm Carla down, I started teasing her about the Fifty Shades weekend up for grabs, and she couldn’t help but chuckle. Carla vowed she never read it, but I wouldn’t put it past her, especially with her weekly book club.
Brandy squeezed my arm in excitement as things began to get heated.
“I don’t think my dad’s ever let something go,” I said, laughing.
As the bidding war escalated, there were only two people left: my father, who hated to lose, and a woman sitting two tables away. I wasn’t sure if she was bidding for the bike or the guy who built the bike. I hoped she’d get neither. Her red fingernails looked like daggers as she shot her hands into the air, raising the stakes with each new yip that left her lips.
Brandy and I cheered on my dad. He looked like he needed all of the moral support he could garner as the bids continued to jump in five hundred dollar increments. I don’t think he bargained for someone else to be this interested in the bike. My father got increasingly agitated as he held up his hand after every increase, but he stuck with it.
I began feeling a warmth crawl up my body and glanced back toward the bikes. The mystery builder had his arms crossed, which somehow managed to make his abs look even tighter.
Geez! This was ridiculous. I was being ridiculous! I was a grown woman for C’s sake!
My gaze fell down to his dark jeans, and my mind went into another world as I caught myself running my gaze up the length of him. A smirk spread acro
ss his lips as he caught me ogling, and all I wanted to do was crawl under the table. That wasn’t how I operated so I gave him a disgruntled eye roll, and took a sip from my wine glass, concentrating my gaze on the woman with the red nails.
“Sold,” the auctioneer called, making me jump out of my skin. The room erupted into applause.
What did I miss? What just happened? Who got it?
I looked at my dad who was glaring at the woman who undoubtedly made him pay far more than he intended for this bike. Not one to let things get him down for long, he turned to me and said, “This is for you. I know you’ve wanted a bike for years and—”
“Thanks, dad,” I interrupted. “You didn’t have to do this.” Brandy backed out of the way so I could grab his hand.
“Congratulations,” Aaron said from across the table. “It’s a beautiful bike. He does amazing work.”
My skin crawled at the admission from my brother. How would he know whether or not this guy did great work or not?
“Looks it,” I muttered and turned my attention back to my father and Brandy.
The other bike went up for auction and the bidding continued, but I couldn’t shake off the nagging question about how my brother could possibly know about this guy’s builds.
I glanced at Aaron, half expecting him to be watching me, but instead caught him looking at Brandy. My insides tightened at the thought. Brandy was chatting with my father and obviously had no idea my brother was waving his freak flag, thankfully.
I watched the bids for the second bike escalate, which got into another bidding war between two men across the room. When the auction was called, I watched the bikes get wheeled out of the room, and I wondered if I’d ever see that guy again.
Beyond Control Page 3
