He glared at her. “I wasn’t asking. Either you come willingly, or I chase you down and toss you over my shoulder. You need to get out of the house for something besides work.”
“Are you drunk?”
“Gabe, don’t tempt me. We need to talk about this, and I refuse to do it in your house. You’re too well entrenched here.”
She sputtered, but he made as if to grab her, so she put up her hands up and relented. “Fine. But not Sullivan’s.”
Her eyes pleaded, and he relented. “Wasn’t planning on Sullivan’s. They’re too packed on a Friday night. We’ll go to a little hole-in-the-wall where we can actually talk. Ever been to that Chinese place, The Luck Dragon?”
She frowned. “No.”
“Me neither. Let’s go.”
He didn’t press her to talk as he drove to what proved to be a tiny, nearly deserted restaurant on the otherwise bustling main drag. She shot Phil a none-too-hopeful glance. Maybe the place was a hole-in-the-wall for a reason.
“If I end up in the hospital because you need to talk, Phil, I will hold it against you until I mercifully die.”
“At least it’s not a carnival.” He snickered when she rolled her eyes. “Although I’d stay away from any seafood on the buffet. Just in case.”
He paid, and they filled their plates in silence. She couldn’t resist shooting him an ironic look when she pointedly skipped over the vat of crab legs, though. It was the first thing approaching a smile she’d managed in almost two weeks, but Phil’s outsized happiness at the sight made her feel worse, and the amused feeling disappeared as quickly as it came.
They finally sat in an all but deserted corner. She reluctantly sampled the kung pao chicken, then dug in with abandon when it tasted better than any other she’d tasted.
“Why is this place deserted? This is fabulous.”
Phil had reached the same conclusion and shoveled in peppered beef so fast he ought to choke. “I dunno. Lack of advertising, probably.”
She’d barely made a dent in her first plate when Phil went back for another. He’d given her a reprieve, for which she was grateful. She knew it wouldn’t last. She knew she’d have to talk about what had happened. She just didn’t know if she could.
Sure enough, he started right in as soon as he settled down with his second plate. “I have to ask one question before we say anything else.” When she finally looked up from her chicken, his face softened. “Did he hurt you?”
She blinked. “What? Of course not.”
He visibly relaxed. “I didn’t really think so, but you never know. So…what?”
Poking at her food and no longer even remotely hungry, she shrugged. “It was only temporary, Phil. Just a…fling.” She glanced up to see if he caught the accidental hesitation.
His raised eyebrow assured her that he had. “Uh-huh. And you’re always mopey when you end a fling.”
“I’ve never had a fling before, so I don’t know.”
“Don’t be cute. You’ve been in the dumps twice over this guy. People don’t lose their light over a fling.” He reached over and stole a piece of chicken. “He loves you, you know.”
Her mouth dropped open. “How did you know?”
“Ha. I thought so.” He quirked a smug smirk. “I know because he told me, and now I know he told you. Is that why you booted him?”
“But when? When could he have possibly told you? You’ve only met him twice.”
“And he told me that first night. You were talking to Doug across the street.”
She felt the blood drain from her face. “So long, then.” Phil had known all along. Hell, Jack had known all along. How had she missed it?
But that was easy. She hadn’t wanted to see.
Her eyes narrowed, and she shot him a measuring glance. “And that’s not all he told you. You said something at the Japanese place. What else?”
To her satisfaction, he squirmed under her gimlet gaze. If he weren’t so dark-skinned, he'd probably be blushing. “Nothing important.”
“Phil.”
He glanced up for a second, then back to his plate. “I don’t know if I should tell you. It was kind of ‘in confidence’, to use one of your lawyer phrases.”
She scowled and jabbed his forearm with her chopsticks. “Spill it.”
Groaning, he slumped back and frowned at her. “I’m not sure it’s any of your business. I like the guy, and I hate to think of spilling his secrets.”
“You, of all people, are standing up for him now. Great. I bet Mike would be stroking his ego, too, if I’d bothered to call and whine. What is it with this guy?”
He put up his hands. “Hey, I admitted I was wrong about him. He’s a good man, and I think you should at least hear him out.”
“But why? It could never work between us. He’s a gigolo, in case you forgot, and—”
“But he’s not.”
He clapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide. She froze and stared at him, her eyes surely just as wide. The bell over the door tinkled as a couple entered, but neither Gabe nor Phil looked that way.
Finally, the need to breathe forced her to speak. “Explain.”
Phil removed his hand from his mouth, his face miserable. “Forget it.”
“Tell me everything this instant.”
He shifted, and the booth seat squeaked. “I…Gabe, you can’t…”
“Now, Phillip.”
“Fine.” He sighed. “He told me he’d quit so he could be with you, but he swore me to secrecy because he knew you'd panic and run away if you thought he was serious about the relationship.” His forehead creased in a frown. “And apparently, he was right.”
She couldn’t seem to get past those first words. “He quit?”
“Yes, and what’s more—”
She put up a single, commanding hand, and he stopped. “He quit? When?”
“As far as I know, he quit well before then. He loves you and wants to—”
“Stop.” She shook her head, her eyes closed tight. “Just stop. I…I can’t…oh, God, I’ve already ruined everything.”
“It’s not ruined. Just call him.”
She shoved aside her plate and rested her forehead on the slightly sticky table top. “Not that. God, Phil, I’ve ruined his life. I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t want him to give anything up for me. He was supposed to be safe, damn it!”
A warm hand settled on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off and shoved out of the booth, heading for the door. “Don’t. I need to think. I…I have to get out of here.”
“Hey, wait up. I’ll take you home.”
“No. Damn it, I need to be alone right now.” Tears stung her eyes again, but she’d already cried once. She refused to do it again, especially in public, so she forced a laugh that was perilously close to a sob. “Besides, I don’t want to destroy your life, too.”
She hit the door running and was distantly glad she hadn’t bothered dressing to go out. Her old tennis shoes kept her on her feet for a good mile before her labored breathing finally slowed her down. She paled to think how many streets she’d thundered across, heedless of traffic. She vaguely remembered a few honking horns. More lives she might have selfishly ruined. God, how could she be so stupid?
Jack had quit. He wasn’t a gigolo. What was he, then? She thought of all the gas money he’d blown to drive down and see her. He’d mentioned an apartment. How was he paying for it? God, she would've run him broke without even realizing it. Why in God’s name had he quit? He actually liked the job…or had before she’d blundered into his life and screwed it all up.
She bent and braced her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. A stitch burned in her side, and her heart refused anything like a normal rhythm. Sweat trickled down her back and streaked her forehead, and her stupid curls stuck to her face. August was too hot, even in the evening, for a mile-long sprint.
Her body reluctantly returned to its normal state, and she cast a desolate look around to see if she ev
en knew where she was. She needed to backtrack a few blocks, but it was only another mile or so home.
And just what would she do when she got there? What could she do? Jack had already thrown his life away. She’d never wanted that. She had fought it with every fiber of her being, but it had already been too late even then.
So…what?
A traitorous part of her whispered that since the damage was already done, she might as well enjoy the spoils, but she ruthlessly quenched that part. It was pure selfishness. Without her in the way, Jack could go back to his life. He'd probably even be grateful, once he realized he didn’t really love her. He couldn’t. She was nobody, and he had every woman in the world to choose from.
It was just…fascination. A break in the usual. She could understand him wanting to try something different, but he'd have tired of her eventually. How could he not? He was used to having any number of different women.
The traitor voice scoffed. She ignored it, walking as fast as the stitch in her side allowed. She'd go back to her own life, and he’d go back to his. It was the only way. He would never be happy with boring, plain Gabe Turner, no matter how much she loved him. And she wouldn’t be responsible for dragging him down to feed her own selfish needs.
She loved him too much to destroy him like that.
Jack left another message, then threw his cell phone at the couch. Mike said to sit tight, but how long did it take for a man to become pitiful? How long before he lost his self-respect?
Scowling, he guessed it didn’t matter. He’d love Gabe far longer than his pride would hold out. He couldn’t stop thinking of her face when she’d ordered him to leave. She hadn’t looked angry. She’d looked…wounded.
A knock at the door stopped him from snatching up his cell phone and leaving yet another message. He straightened, ran a hand through his hair and pushed down the absurd hope that Gabe had come to see him, to apologize, to take him back. She didn’t even know where he lived.
He couldn’t hide his disappointment, though, when it was only Regina at the door. “Hey, Reggie.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Not exactly the welcome I was hoping for. Trouble in paradise?”
“Is it written all over my face?”
“Just the left side.” He rolled his eyes, and she smiled. “That’s more like it. Now, tell me all about it.”
She walked in, and he snorted. “Come right in.”
“Offer me a Coke, too. It’s ungodly too hot out there.”
He complied with a cold can from the fridge, then gestured toward the living room. She settled into the sole armchair, so he sank onto the couch with a sigh.
“Why didn’t you call?”
He blinked slowly, much like Gabe frequently did. “Huh?”
“Why didn’t you tell me something’s wrong? I haven’t heard from you forever, and you never answer your phone. I was starting to worry.”
A guilty flush stole up his neck. He hadn’t even really noticed the messages. They weren’t from Gabe.
“I didn’t even think to. I’m not really in my right mind at the moment.”
She frowned. “You really aren’t used to having friends, are you?” She brushed aside his protest with a wave of her hand. “It’s all right. No offense taken. But you can talk to me, you know.”
“It’s Gabe.”
“I gathered.”
Grunting, he slumped back against the couch’s arm and kicked a leg up to sit sideways. He didn’t want to look at her while he spilled his guts. “I told her I loved her, and she kicked me out.”
“Hateful bitch.”
He shot a dangerous look at her. “No, she’s not.”
“Yes, she is. Doesn’t she know what you gave up for her?”
“No. I never told her.” He huffed something between a grunt and a sigh. “And I didn’t give up that much, anyway. I should’ve been out of the business years ago.”
Sniffing, she crossed her arms and glared. “That still doesn’t give her the right to give you the bum’s rush like that. How could she?”
He shrugged. “I dunno. I guess she doesn’t love me back.”
“To rephrase, how could she not?”
For some reason, that pulled a chuckle from him. “Look, Reggie, there’s a lot you don’t know. Hell, there’s a lot I don’t know. Gabe is…complicated.”
“Complicated usually means a bitch.”
“No, complicated is why I love her.” His lips twitched on a half-hearted grin. “I just shouldn’t have told her.”
Regina softened, shifting to lean on the chair’s arm and cock one foot up under her. “You had to tell her sometime. It’s not right to keep it all bottled up like you were.”
“It was damn hard. With every little thing she did, I wanted to blurt it out.” He crossed his arms and scowled. “Even now, though I want to wring her neck for not answering the damn phone, I only want her to answer so I can tell her again.”
She shook her head. “You’ve got it bad.”
“Tell me something I don’t know. Like what the hell I’m supposed to do now.”
She shrugged. “Wait.”
Rolling his eyes, he slumped farther into the couch. “You sound like her sister. I don’t want to wait. This is killing me. I want to be with her right now. All the time. I don’t want to have to leave after the weekend.”
“You want to move to Joplin?”
“I want to marry her.”
He shot her a glance just in time to see both her eyebrows shoot up. She whistled low. “You really do have it bad. Had you made any definite plans?”
“No.” He hated the dejected sound of the word. “I didn’t dare plan that far ahead.”
“Apparently, for good reason.” She frowned in thought, idly tapping the top of her Coke can with a fingernail. “I take it you’ve talked to the sister?”
“Yeah.”
“And she says to wait.”
He sighed. “Yeah.”
“Do you think she has a plan?”
“No.” He tilted his head to one side. “Maybe. I dunno.”
“I hate to say it, Jack, but you may really just have to wait.” She bit her lower lip. “Have you…thought what you’ll do if Gabe doesn’t come around?”
He paled, cold panic gripping his heart. “No. I refuse to.”
“But—”
“No.” He stood, headed for the door. “I can’t think about it, Reggie. I appreciate you coming over to check on me, but I really need to be alone right now.”
“Jack…” He opened the door, and she reluctantly went through. “Call me if you need anything.”
He shut the door without answering. Regina couldn’t give him what he needed. No one could.
It was just like Doug to come over without calling first. She shuffled to the door, mentally preparing for the likely onslaught of pleas for Jack’s return, but her caller wasn’t Doug.
“Oh, kiddo.”
Mike practically flew at her, engulfing her in a bear hug that nearly squeezed the breath out of her. Gabe hugged back, more to avoid being bowled over than in any affection. She was simply too surprised. Mike hadn’t come all the way to Joplin since Gabe first moved into this house.
“What are you doing here?” The stunned surprise faded, and she clung to her sister, suddenly glad that someone she could confide in had finally arrived. Mike would fix everything. “Oh, Sis, I’m so glad you’re here!”
She pulled back just enough to see, and the sympathy in her older sister’s eyes nearly sent her off on another crying jag. It was appalling, really, how hard it was to avoid crying now that she’d indulged the once. Tears pricked her eyes over the stupidest things.
“Phil called. I came as soon as I could get Darren to watch the girls. I wanted to drive down last weekend, but he had to work.”
Sniffing and blinking hard, she shook her head and stepped back, pulling Mike all the way inside. “It’s all right. I didn’t expect you to come at all.” Her heart ached, making her voice
choked. “I…I don’t know what to do.”
“First, let’s get you sat down. You look like death warmed over. Why didn’t you call me?”
She led the way through the dining room, pushing Gabe down onto one of the bar stools and continuing on into the kitchen. “Where do you keep your alcohol?”
Gabe surprised herself further by laughing. “You want to get drunk?”
“No, I want to get you drunk. You’ll never talk, otherwise. I know you.” She opened and shut several cabinets until she crowed in victory. “Good taste. I didn’t know you liked wine.”
When she saw the bottle, her eyes burned again. “Jack picked it out.”
Mike bit her lip. “Oh. Well, he does have good taste. After all, I hear he loves you and I can’t think of a better endorsement than that.”
Grunting, she propped her elbows on the breakfast bar and slumped. “Did everyone know but me?”
“Pretty much.”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” She knew she was whining, but she couldn’t help it. Surely, she could have stopped this before it began if someone had just kept her in the loop.
“Would you have listened?” Mike poured two tea glasses three-quarters full and doled them out. “Drink up, and we’ll talk.”
“I like white better.”
“White needs to be chilled. I don’t want to wait. Drink.”
She complied with a snort, grimacing at the bitter taste. “I can’t believe you’re trying to get me drunk.”
“You don’t have to drive anywhere, so why not? I hear you’re a little looser of tongue when you’re soused.”
Putting the wine down, she scowled. “And just who told you that? How did you know about any of this?”
Unrepentant, Mike had the gall to smirk. “Like I said, Phil called me.”
“He—”
“And then I called Jack.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “You talked to Jack? What did he say?”
“I’ll tell you when you’re drunk. And yes, I talked to Jack. I talk to him quite a lot, actually.”
Her jaw seemed in danger of dragging the breakfast bar. Not only had her best friend snuck around and tattled to her sister, but Jack had, too. Did she have no privacy anymore? It was like having a Greek chorus around, wailing about what would happen next to anyone that would listen. Disgusted, she took a big drink and nearly gagged at the pungent flavor.
My Gigolo: The Care and Feeding of a Male Prostitute Page 23
