With her eyes still closed, Gabby asked, “What’s taking you so long, Skippy?”
He put his lips next to her ear and asked, “Do you have a habit of offering those sweet lips to perfect strangers?”
She sat up straight on her stool. “Of coursh not.” She swayed and shook her head as her long fingers gripped the edge of the bar.
Skippy was looking at a very drunk Gabby. He signaled the bartender and had him deliver a large glass of ice water.
“Gabby, drink this,” he said as he handed it to her.
“What ish it?”
“Water.”
“Why in the world would I want water? I don’t wanna kill my buzzzz.” She laughed.
“I don’t suppose you do.”
She whipped her head around and nearly fell off her stool. “Woo. That was closhe.”
Why the hell had he ever started talking to her?
“So, Shkippy, what do you do for a living?”
“A little of this and that.”
“What do you like better? Thish or that?” And she broke into a series of giggles and couldn’t stop. Her palm slammed the bar top and she giggled even harder. “Oh my God, would you look at this. I’m tearing up,” she said. “Do you have a tissue?”
Skippy handed her a beverage napkin. She leaned over to him and whispered rather loudly, “Can I tell you a shecret?”
“I don’t know, Gabby. I’m not good with secrets.”
The blood drained out of her face as it darkened with pain. In a quiet voice, she told him, “That’sh okay because I’m very good with shecrets, Shkippy. The besht shecret-keeper ever. I never tell.” Then she drained her glass and went back to rubbing her arms.
Skippy thought for a moment that he may have met his match in the fucked-up-past department. Or at least it was looking that way.
Gabby wished Skippy hadn’t brought up the secret thing. Oh, she really couldn’t blame him, now could she? She was the one who started it all. She grabbed her arm and slid her thumb across her wrist, massaging it. Would she ever stop hating Danny? Maybe. If he would leave her alone. But she knew that would never happen. She shivered, thinking about what he’d told her on the phone.
“You okay over there?”
“Fine,” she lied. Gabby learned a long time ago that it was easier to lie about things. The truth only got you in trouble. And caused lots of pain. That’s how she ended up in her career. She needed to help people who’d been to hell and back, like she had.
Getting the bartender’s attention, she ordered yet another martini.
Skippy was glad to see the bartender didn’t make this one a double. Not that it mattered. Gabby was ten sheets to the wind by now.
“Thank you, tarbender. You’ve been good to me tonight.”
“You’re welcome, ma’am.”
Skippy and the bartender tried not to laugh.
Gabby picked up the little sword and began eating her olives.
“You have quite the weapons cache there,” Skippy noted.
“Yesh. Now I can defend myshelf against that dickfashe pervert.”
“I’m sure they’ll be quite effective.”
She rested her head against her hand and screwed up her face. “I doubt it. Nothing ever ish.” A few minutes later, she sat up again, wobbled, and announced it was time for her to leave.
She looked at Skippy and asked, “Do you know where I am?”
“Yes. It’s 5 O’Clock.”
She wrinkled up her brow and asked, “Ish it five o’clock?”
Skippy laughed. “No, that’s where you are. The name of the bar.”
“But where ish it?”
Shit, she needs a hand. “Gabby, where do you live?”
“Oh, no. You’re gonna try and get in my pantsh. I’m not shtupid, mishter.”
“No, I was going to help you home. You’ve had a lot to drink.”
“Have I?” She pushed herself away from the bar and spun out. Skippy caught her before she hit the floor.
“Yes, Gabby, you have.”
“Rut-roh.” She giggled.
Skippy paid both tabs and walked her outside. The cool air felt great on her face but then she said she needed to go back inside to collect her swords.
“You’ll be fine without them.”
In a serious voice, she said, “Noooo, I need them for protection. They’ll defend me againsht all evil and keep me shafe againsht intruding marauders who want to murder me, or rape and pillage.”
“I think you read too much George R. R. Martin.”
Then she turned her caramel browns on him and asked, “Will you lend me your shword? I really need a shword tonight. One that’s long, hard, and dangeroush.” She wore a mischievous smile.
He shook his head. “Precious, you don’t want to get close to my sword.”
“No? Why not?”
“Because it’s long, hard, and dangerous all right, but I promise you if it ever penetrates anything of yours, you will never be the same again.”
She started to laugh but then hiccuped and promptly passed out.
“And now what the fuck am I supposed to do?” he said to no one in particular.
Chapter 2
The beeping of Kolson’s phone woke him up. He always set it for 6 a.m. so he could get his workout in before his day began. But when he started getting dressed, memories of the evening before pricked his mind. Gabby. Instead of throwing on gym clothes, he hit the shower and then the kitchen. After he put on coffee, he moved to his office to check his email.
He considered waking her. What if she needed to be somewhere? Like a job? His own schedule was packed and he didn’t have much time to hang around and wait on her sleeping ass. He picked up the phone and called one of his employees.
“How soon can you get here?” Pause. “Fine.”
His body did not care for the fact that he was missing his workout. His back and neck were already tense. Nothing he could do about it now. He moved down the hall until he reached the door where Gabby slept. Checking his clock, he noticed it was seven twenty. His decision made, he tapped lightly on the door. When he got no response, he opened it and walked in.
Wrong move. The minute he saw her, his dick turned to granite and tried to pop through his damn jeans.
Fuck. Does she always look like this in the morning?
Her deep brunette hair had escaped from the messy bun and fanned out across the pillow. The pencil skirt she wore was bunched up around her waist, showing off a damn nice set of legs, not to mention a black lacy thong. She was lying on her side, one leg bent at an angle the other straight, and Kolson had all kinds of scenarios running through his mind at what he could do to her like that. All he’d have to do would be lift that leg and slip in behind her. Goddamn, his hand was rubbing his dick and he hadn’t even realized it.
His second mistake came when his eyes traveled up to her breasts, which he couldn’t even see. But her blouse was twisted up, showing a strip of creamy skin that he wanted to lick. And her cleavage. Oh God, he wanted to put his lips on it and suck. And that was even before he got to her mouth. Lips parted ever so slightly, he could only imagine how they would feel around his rock-hard dick.
That was it. He spun around and got the hell out of there before he came in his jeans. What the fuck was wrong with him? His tastes usually ran to the extreme. Not to what was lying in the guest room.
After he paced the hallway a few times, he knew he must wake her. This time, instead of being quiet, he marched back in and said, “Hey. Time to get up!”
She rolled back and forth a bit. But that was it.
“Gabby. You need to get up. Now!”
“Huh? What?” She rolled over and groaned. “Oh God, my head.”
“Yep. I tried to warn you.”
“Huh?”
“Last night. I tried to dissuade you from drinking.”
She turned her head and looked at Kolson, squinting. “Um, who’re you?”
“Skippy.”
&nb
sp; “Skippy?”
“Yeah. You don’t remember me?”
“Uh, give me a minute. My head’s exploding right now.”
Gabby’s head felt like a thousand jackhammers were trying to outdo each other. And her mouth tasted like an animal had urinated in it. Not that an animal had ever urinated in her mouth before but still ...
Kolson handed her a glass of juice. “Here. This may help.”
“Uh, thanks.”
She guzzled it. “I’m so thirsty.”
“I wouldn’t have guessed.”
She lay back down and massaged her temples. She hadn’t even noticed her state of dress … or undress, as it were.
“Do you work?” Kolson asked.
“Of course I work. What kind of question is that?” She groaned again.
“A legitimate one. Many people don’t work. You could be independently wealthy.”
Gabby tried to laugh, but failed. “That’s funny.”
“What time?”
“Huh?”
“Work? What time do you have to be there?” he snapped.
“Oh. I don’t know. I have to check my schedule,” Gabby replied.
“Then Gabby, I suggest you do so.”
She looked up at him and saw him for the first time. Even in her hungover state, there was no mistaking the man who stood before her. Tall and beautiful. Faded blond hair, cropped a bit closer on the sides but longer on the top, with a sculpted face that was something you’d see on a magazine cover. Not the pretty kind of face you often saw, but a rugged one with flaws that was much sexier because of them. Compelling was the word that came to mind.
“Who are you?” She was totally confused.
He looked at her and his lips curved into a smile emphasizing a scar that ran from his bottom lip to his chin. Oddly enough, it only made him more attractive. And his eyes. Arresting. An odd mixture of colors, she couldn’t quite figure them out. But they looked to be charcoal on the outside, forest green in the center and chestnut brown closest to the pupil. Strange, yet stunning.
“I told you. I’m Skippy.”
Her weak attempt at laughing failed again. “Right.” God, she thought, if only her head would stop throbbing, maybe she could think. She lifted herself up to her elbows and nearly died. A wave of dizziness smacked her in the cranium and she collapsed back on the bed.
“You okay?”
She groaned. “Hell no, I’m not okay. I have an epic hangover.”
“I tried to warn you. Repeatedly. Hang tight a sec.”
Like I’m going somewhere?
He came back and said, “Here. Take these and drink.” He handed her some pills and a glass of water.
“What is it?”
“Ibuprofen. Go on.”
She downed it and then she caught her state of dress.
“Holy shit!” She scrambled to cover herself.
“Don’t you think it’s a little late for that?”
“No! I can’t believe you let me lie here like this.”
“And what precisely did you expect me to do?”
“Cover me up! I’m half naked!”
“I know that. And damn enticing.”
“Stop it, Skippy.”
He smirked at her.
“Where the hell am I?”
“At my place. I was going to escort you home last night, but you passed out on me before I had the chance.”
“But, you didn’t …” Her voice trailed off as the memory of Danny’s call nailed her. Oh shit! Danny. Danny found me. He’s back. She broke out into a sweat as she thought about his phone call.
Gabby didn’t notice how Kolson’s humor disappeared because she was stuck in a panic mode over Danny’s call.
Kolson turned his flinty gaze on her. “I didn’t what? I made sure that no harm came to you. What’s wrong with you, going out alone like that, getting all sloppy drunk and then not knowing how you’re getting home?” he snapped.
“But that’s not what I …”
He cut her off. “I don’t give a fuck what your intentions were. That’s what happened. What if I had been a rotten bastard? I could’ve fucked you till your eyes rolled back in your head or worse yet, raped and then killed you.”
All she could do was gape at him. She bowed her head and swallowed. “Wow. I think I should go. I’m sorry I caused you so much trouble. But you’re absolutely right. It was careless and very stupid of me. And I should never have done it.” She shook her head. She had to get out of there and away from him so she could think. It wasn’t safe for her anymore. Her belly lurched at the thought.
Kolson scrutinized her as she swung her perfect legs over the side of the bed. She stood up, unsteady, and grabbed the mattress edge. Using her free hand, she tugged her skirt into place. Then she pinched the bridge of her nose. Black dots blurred her vision, but she wasn’t sure if they were from fear or from her hangover. “Um, would it be too much of an imposition to use your restroom?”
He pointed to a door. “Over there.”
She flinched at his tone. Anxiety had edged its familiar place under her skin. Jeez, she’d already apologized. What more did he want?
In the bathroom, she noticed expensive toiletries on the countertop, exactly like what one would find in a high-end hotel. She took care of business and looked in the mirror. Hanging her head, she took a deep breath and let it ease its way out. As she looked at herself, she grimaced when she saw the pale, wild-eyed girl staring back—smeared makeup, knotted hair. With shaking hands, she did her best to clean off the mascara and then rinsed with mouthwash. Her hair proved to be quite a challenge, so she twisted it back up into a bun.
“Gah, why the hell did you drink so much?” she spoke to the stranger who stared back at her. Splashing water on her face, she leaned on bent wrists. “He’s right. You put yourself at great risk, dumbass, knowing Danny’s back. What the hell are you going to do?” Fire burned her belly as terror gripped her. “Oh God, please don’t let him find me.” Then in a resigned tone she whispered, “He will. He always does.”
When she walked out of the bathroom, he was nowhere in sight. Gazing around the room, she noticed the expensive furnishings. Lovely window treatments, gorgeous furniture, bed linens, and the artwork displayed on the walls were beautiful. Skippy had great taste. And lots of money, so it seemed.
After she pushed her feet into her pumps and collected her few things, she peeked down the hall outside the bedroom. Maybe she could sneak out without having to say goodbye. That’d be nice, but too much to ask with her luck. Not knowing where the exit door was, she took a guess and headed to the right. But that landed her in the den, right where Kolson stood.
He didn’t hear her approach so she briefly admired his physique. It wasn’t difficult though as he was quite extraordinary to look at. “So, yeah, I guess I’ll be on my way. Thank you for looking out for me last night. I realize you could’ve left me there and I totally appreciate the bed and all. Sorry for the inconvenience.” She looked for the door to leave but his voice stopped her.
“Someone will be here in a moment to drive you home.”
“Oh, no. That’s really not necessary. I’m fine and can get myself home.”
“I’ve already made the arrangements.”
“Well, okay, then. Thank you. You’ve been more than kind.” She felt awkward, not sure what to say.
“I’m sorry for being so harsh on you.”
She held up her hand. “No. You were right. Completely. And I deserved it.” She gave him a tremulous half smile.
He looked at her and noticed the haunted look in her eyes.
The doorman buzzed him.
“Sir, a car is here for you.”
“Thanks, Manny.”
“Come.” He extended his arm, indicating the direction for her to take.
“I’ve got this.”
He blew out his breath. “Are you always this damn difficult?” He watched her body droop and briefly puzzled over it.
That was
n’t the first time she’d been asked that. Difficult … that’s what her parents always called her. “Why must you be so damned difficult, Gabby? Nothing is ever easy with you.” Did wanting to be independent mean she was difficult? Was trying to tell your parents that someone did something terrible to you, something so awful, it made you want to hide forever—was that being difficult? Gabby hadn’t thought so, but apparently everyone else had.
In a voice so quiet Kolson had to strain to hear, she said, “I suppose I am. At least that’s what I’ve been told.”
“I can see that,” he said dryly, as he escorted her out the door.
He lived in the penthouse of whatever building they were in. Gabby didn’t care enough to pay attention. All she wanted to do was get away from here. Kolson had different ideas, though. She intrigued him, and that was a rare thing indeed. They rode the elevator down in silence and he ushered her into the waiting car. She gave the driver her address and when she got home, she insisted on paying him.
“Miss, it’s been taken care of already.”
“Then please give this to whoever paid for it.”
The driver gave her an odd look, but would not accept her money. After arguing with him for several minutes, the driver finally said, “Miss, Mr. H. owns this company. He would have my rear end if he knew I allowed you to pay for this.”
“Oh. Well, thank you. It was very kind of you to drive me home.” Gabby ducked her head and got out of the car. Mr. H. must be Skippy. That’s why his apartment had been so richly decorated. She didn’t let herself think any more of him. She had a day’s worth of patients and had to see them with a hangover. And all this was Danny’s fault. For once in her life, Gabby wished she had the heart of a murderer, because she’d like to kill Danny Martinelli for the way he had ripped her life apart.
Chapter 3
Sam kept an eye on Gabby and watched which building she entered. Once he had her address, he called Mr. Hart.
“Got it, Mr. H. 333 East 86th Street.”
The Best of Forevers Page 91