“There was a verbal agreement, was there not?”
“Sounds like a case of ‘he said, she said.’”
Regretting the deal she’d struck with the magazine, and now this man that she didn’t trust in the least, she said, “I am calling off the arrangement. Besides, I never gave you anything you could use.”
The line went dead.
She had to admit that had gone a little better than she’d expected. And as she set aside her cell phone, she felt a bit lighter. She didn’t care how hard up she was for money, she was never working for a gossip rag again.
Now she had to deal with Deacon. She had no idea what to make of his disappearance that morning. He did say that he didn’t sleep much. Maybe he’d just gotten up early.
And to complicate matters, she needed to come clean about her liaison with QTR. She felt now that her relationship with Deacon had shifted, she needed to be completely open and honest—even if he didn’t like what she was about to say.
* * *
How was he supposed to face her after last night?
Deacon moved to the window in his office. She was going to look at him differently. She was going to expect things of him—things he couldn’t give her.
And yet he didn’t want to lose her. He told himself that it was the fact she was the best assistant he’d ever had. And this fund-raiser, if it worked out, might help fund a breakthrough in the fight against breast cancer. There was too much riding on them continuing to work together.
Was it possible to wind back the hands of time? If they didn’t talk about it, could they pretend that amazing night of lovemaking had never happened?
“Deacon, we need to talk.”
He didn’t move as he stared out the window of his office. She’d just said the five words he’d been dreading. It was time he put his plan in action.
Deacon turned to her. “I wanted to talk to you, too. I have another screenplay and I’d like to get your thoughts on it.”
“It can wait—”
“No, it can’t. If I don’t get the rights to it, someone else will. I know it.”
“But what I have to say—”
“Can wait.” He saw the frustration reflected in her eyes. He owed her more than a quick brush-off. He swallowed hard. “I wasn’t expecting last night. It wasn’t something I planned.”
“Me neither.”
That was good to hear. It meant she had to be as confused as him. “Then you’ll understand when I say I need time to process this. My life—it’s not the best time to start anything serious.”
Disappointment dimmed her eyes. “I understand. But I feel I owe you the truth about something.”
Revealing secrets and truths were things people did when they were establishing a relationship. When they were building a foundation. He didn’t intend to do any of those things with Gabrielle. Because when that police report was released—when he was sure his whole world would come crashing down—he didn’t want Gabrielle hurt any more than she already would be.
Whatever she’d done or thought she’d done, it wouldn’t compare to his transgressions.
“Now isn’t the time for sharing.” He averted his gaze. “We can talk another time.”
“But—”
“Please.” She didn’t know how hard she was making this for him.
Because in a different place, at a different time, under different circumstances, he would have welcomed her into his life with both arms. Turning her away was the hardest thing he’d ever done.
As he watched her walk away, he felt the distance grow between them. It was like the sun had been eclipsed from his life. And as much as he wanted to go after her—to pull her into his arms—his feet remained rooted to the floor.
He clung to the fact that she was better off without him.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
IT WAS ALL coming together.
Beneath the blue skies, Gaby stood to the side of the golf course and gazed out over the estate grounds. Deacon’s grounds crew were miracle workers. Of course, it helped that they’d enjoyed months of paid leave and were now anxious to get back to work. Gaby couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have all that free time. Right now, she didn’t have enough hours in the day to do everything that needed done.
And ever since they’d made love, Deacon had held her at arm’s length. She didn’t understand it. Had she done something wrong? Had he not enjoyed it? Whatever it was, he wasn’t talking and she was left with nothing but doubts and worries. Thankfully the fund-raiser was only a couple of days away and there were so many last-minute details to attend to that she didn’t have time to get lost in her thoughts.
Every last ticket for the event had been sold. Now if only they’d all show up. The food had been ordered. The catering service had been reserved. The rose garden was already in order. Deacon had seen to that. But there was something she was forgetting. She just couldn’t put her finger on it.
“You wanted to see me?” Deacon’s voice came from behind her.
“I did.” She tried to hide her surprise at him actually seeking her out instead of calling her on the phone. “What do you think?”
“About what?”
She subdued a sigh. What was wrong with him? “Look around. The grounds are done. The men have been working on it every day from dawn until dusk.”
Deacon remained quiet as he took in his surroundings. His expression was masked behind a look of indifference. How could that be? Didn’t he notice what a mess the estate had been? Even she had been out here every day going over the details to make this place spectacular.
“It looks good.” He still didn’t smile.
“Good? That’s it. This place is amazing. Anyone would be amazed by the transformation.” There was something more to this. Something that he wasn’t telling her. “Deacon, we need to talk about the other night—”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
She was tired of being patient—of thinking he just needed time to adjust to the change in their relationship. “I don’t believe you.”
“What?” He gave her an innocent look.
“Don’t go acting like you don’t know what I’m talking about. You’ve been avoiding me at all costs ever since we made love.”
“I’ve been busy.” His phone chimed. He withdrew it and held it up as proof of his business. Then he silenced it and slipped it back in his pocket.
“Fine. We’ll play it your way.”
“I’m not playing. What happened was a mistake. One we shouldn’t repeat.”
She managed a shrug as she wasn’t so sure she trusted her voice. It took her a second to swallow the lump in the back of her throat. With a blink of her eyes, she mustered up what she hoped was a blank expression. He wasn’t the only actor here.
Willing her voice not to waver, she said, “And the golf course? What do you think of that?”
“It’s good.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “After all this work, good is all you have to say?”
His gaze didn’t meet hers. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”
“More than that. My lunch was good. Your haircut is good. But the transformation of this estate from an unruly jungle to a work of art is spectacular.”
He sighed and then proceeded to rub the back of his neck. “I just can’t shake the feeling that something is going to go terribly wrong.” He turned to her and apparently her thoughts were reflected on her face because he said, “What happens if the report on the accident comes out between now and then?”
“We deal with it.”
“What if it says I’m to blame?”
In all honesty, she wasn’t sure how she’d cope if the report really did say that Deacon was responsible for the accident that stole away her aunt, no matter how sure she was that he was innocent. B
ut now Gaby understood why he’d pulled away from her. The accident was like a deep chasm between them, and try as they might, it was hard to cross.
She wanted to believe she would be able to move past the accident—to not hate him if the truth turned out to be different than what she imagined. But she knew that emotions could be tricky. Her father was a prime example—who’d have thought he would be arrested for stalking and harassment? Her father had never been in trouble with the law before in his life.
Not wanting to get caught up in the what-ifs and maybes, she said, “Would you like to give it a go?” She gestured toward the golf clubs that were all spiffed up and standing next to the house in a special shed. “The clubs are just waiting to be used.”
He hesitated and she was certain he was going to turn her down. And then he said, “I’ll do it, if you do.”
She shook her head. “Not me.”
“Why not?”
“I—I prefer to watch.” She really didn’t want to admit that she didn’t know a putter from an iron. Those were terms she’d heard the groundskeepers throwing around.
Deacon arched an eyebrow as he stepped closer to her. “Are you afraid I’ll beat you?”
He was challenging her? Oh, boy. Maybe it was time for her to fess up. “No. I’m not worried.” There was a glint of excitement in his dark eyes. He definitely had the wrong idea and so she said, “I don’t know how to golf.”
His eyes widened. “But you’re the one who suggested making this a golfing event.”
“I know I did. You did happen to notice that most of your yard is taken up by a nine-hole golf course?”
“But usually when you host an event, you know how to do the said event.”
Now she understood his confusion. “But see, I’m not the host, you are. The fund-raiser is in your mother’s name. This is your home. And the people are coming here because of you—”
“No. They are coming because they are curious to see the recluse and find out if I’m an ugly, scarred mess like the tabloids have portrayed.”
“Whoa! Whoa!” She waved away all his worries. “That isn’t why they’re coming here. They’re attending the event to support a worthy cause.”
“And I think you see only the good in people.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Look at you. You’re always so positive. Wanting to believe people are truly good. But they aren’t.”
She didn’t know where all of this was coming from. “I’m not some Pollyanna.”
“Yes, you are. You’re all smiles and sunshine.”
She hadn’t meant to mislead him. “I’m human just like you. I have my share of doubts and worries. I just try not to dwell on them.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Don’t do that. Don’t make me out to be like someone up on a pedestal.”
“Then tell me that you aren’t doing everything you can to convince yourself that I’m innocent. Go ahead. Deny it.”
“But my aunt—”
“She was probably in shock. She probably hadn’t even understood what had happened. The only thing she could think about was her love for you.”
She shook her head, refusing to believe his version of events. “Now that I’ve gotten to know you, I just can’t believe you would be reckless with your life and that of others.”
“But see, that’s the point. I have been in the past. I’ve bought super cars and I’ve taken them out on the road to see how fast they could go—to push the envelope. Doesn’t that make me reckless?” When she couldn’t argue with him, she remained quiet. His gaze implored her to affirm his actions. “Go ahead, say it.”
“No.” She wasn’t going to help convict him when there wasn’t any evidence. Because if he were guilty—if he did act recklessly—she would have lost not one but two people that she cared deeply about in that accident.
“Gabrielle, you can’t bury your head in the sand and pretend the accident didn’t happen. The reality is my nightmares grow stronger every night. You have to accept that—that I’m responsible for what happened. No amount of positivity will be able to overcome the fact that I—I killed your aunt.”
Each word he threw at her was a blow at her heart. Tears pricked the back of her eyes. “Why are you doing this?”
* * *
Deacon hated hurting her.
But he didn’t have a choice. More of his memories were starting to come back to him. He remembered being in the car. He recalled the blinding headlights headed straight for him. The rest was bits and pieces, but he couldn’t shake the guilt mounting within him.
And now he was making a mess of things with Gabrielle. He’d only wanted to help her. He should have done it from a distance. Bringing her here to his estate was his first mistake. The second mistake was getting caught up in her greenish-gray eyes and letting himself be drawn in by her pouty lips. Now he had to untangle the ties that bound them together. It was best for Gabrielle.
He cleared his throat. “I never should have let things get this far. You and I need to part now, before either of us gets hurt.”
“Are you saying you never cared? That this thing between us is all in my imagination?”
Why did she have to make this harder on herself? He couldn’t tell her what she wanted to hear—not if he wanted her to leave, if he wanted to save her from more pain.
“It was fun and nice.” He glanced away, unable to stand the hurt reflected in her eyes. “But it wasn’t real. It would never last.”
His phone vibrated again. What in the world was going on? His email was busier than ever. Using his phone as an excuse not to face the pain he’d caused Gabrielle, he pretended to check it. In truth, he couldn’t care less about business right now—right when he was sending away the woman that he’d come to care about deeply—
The breath caught in his throat as his gaze strayed across a bit of news. There was a distorted picture of him with ugly scars, next to a photo of Gabrielle. The headline read, The Beast Wins Beauty?
“What is it?” Gabrielle asked. When he didn’t respond, she asked again, “What’s the matter?”
He ignored her as his gaze skimmed down over the slanderous piece of trashy journalism. The fact that Gabrielle was quoted in the article stabbed him in the chest. Each breath was painful.
All this time, he’d thought she was so amazing with her ability to see the good in him. At first, he hadn’t wanted to believe in her generous heart, but she’d worn him down and snuck past the wall around his own heart. And it’d been a lie. All of it.
“Deacon, I’m getting worried. What’s wrong?”
His gaze narrowed in on her. “Why? Are you hoping I’ll give you another headline?”
“What?” She reached for his phone. The color drained from her face as she read the article. When she looked up at him, worry lines bracketed her eyes. “I can explain.”
“Don’t bother.” His angry words died in his throat when he realized she’d done what most anyone would have done in her situation. “I probably would have done the same thing in your place.”
“But you don’t understand. I—I backed out of the deal. Once I knew you better and you told me what my aunt said to you, I backed out.”
He wanted to believe her but he couldn’t allow himself. “It looks like you gave them plenty to work with.”
“This isn’t my stuff. They did a hatchet job on the information I supplied them. Please. You have to believe me.”
Anger pulsed through his veins. He was angry at the tabloid for printing outright lies. And he was furious with himself for not listening to his gut. Instead, he’d let down his guard with Gabrielle. He’d let himself fall for her and it’d all been a lie.
“Just go.” His voice rumbled.
“But the fund-raiser—”
“Is taken care of. You said so yourself.
All the arrangements have been made. Now that your end of our deal has been fulfilled, it’s time for you to leave.”
When she didn’t move but rather stood there with tears glistening in her eyes, he said with a low guttural growl that he knew she hated, “Go now. And don’t come back.”
He turned his back to her because it was killing him to send her away. He would try to forget the happiness that Gabrielle had brought to his life. He would banish the image of her warm smile—a smile that she would get when he walked in the room.
Because none of it had been true. While he’d been falling in love with her, she had been figuring out how best to twist the knife. And she’d succeeded. Worst of all, he deserved it and more after causing the accident.
His last little bit of hope that his name would be cleared was also gone. The future looked bleak. He just hoped the article brought Gabrielle and her father some sort of satisfaction.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
THIS WAS THE absolute last place he wanted to be.
Deacon stood off to the side of his newly manicured lawn. Despite what he’d said to Gabrielle, the estate did look spectacular. She hadn’t overlooked a single detail. And his staff had gone above and beyond to make everything perfect for this occasion.
After Gabrielle left, it had been too late to cancel the fund-raiser. He knew it was up to him to see it through to the end. Only things weren’t turning out quite as he’d imagined.
With not one, not two, but three scandalous headline articles in as many days that featured him in the worst light, he didn’t think anyone would attend. Instead, everyone was in attendance. He didn’t know if they’d come in spite of the article or to find out if any of the lies were true.
The only person not there was the one person he longed to see—Gabrielle. He knew he should be angry with her, yet when she said that she’d backed out of the arrangement with the magazine, he’d believed her. But it didn’t mean they belonged together.
He drew his thoughts up short. Today he had to be a gracious host.
Beauty and Her Boss Page 14
