by N. M. Silber
“Okay, okay we’ll take a trip to New York soon but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Going back to my original question though, is the necklace too much?”
“No. It'll be fine. It's very beautiful and tasteful. Just like you.” He smiled, walked over and cupped my face in his hands, leaning down to kiss me gently. I heard a knock at the door and Beth called out.
“Gabrielle? I’m sorry to bother you but the hairdresser and the cosmetologist are ready for you now.”
“Go ahead,” Braden encouraged me. “I’ll get dressed while you go see them.”
“Okay, I’ll be right there,” I called out. I quickly undressed and found my robe. I wrapped it around myself and I went out and followed Beth down the hall to her room. The stylist and the make-up professional worked on me for about half an hour and I had to admit that the results were very nice. My hair was piled on top of my head with loose tendrils flowing down and I had the “smoky eyes” that Jessica was always talking about. When I got back to Braden’s room he was in his bathroom and I stepped into my evening gown. Occasionally, I did splurge, and I had known from the minute that I had seen this dress that I had to have it. It was a shimmery light beige color with strips of fitted silk charmeuse making up the bodice and a flowing chiffon skirt. It was so soft that it felt almost sensual against my bare skin.
“Will you zip me, Braden?” I called out. He walked out of the bathroom and my mouth went dry. He was wearing a tux and he looked drop-dead gorgeous. This man was born to dress in formal wear. His eyes roamed over me from head to toe appreciatively.
“You look so beautiful.” He walked over to where I was standing and eased my zipper up slowly. Then as he helped me to fasten the clasp on my necklace there was another knock on the door.
“Yo Braden! Mom and Dad want to know if you’re ready,” Drew yelled.
“We’re not deaf,” Braden said swinging the door open.
“I thought you might be “otherwise occupied.” He snickered. Then he caught sight of me. “Whoa! Gabrielle, you look smokin’ hot in that dress, baby.”
“Did you just call her baby? Do that again and I’ll hurt you. Badly. Now stop ogling her,” Braden said, pushing Drew back into the hall. “We’ll be down in a minute.” There was some grumbling as Drew left.
“He’s right though. You do look smokin’ hot in that dress, baby and I’m allowed to ogle you,”
Braden said, smiling and kissing my hand.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
He held onto it as we headed downstairs, where the rest of his family was waiting in the family room with a guy named Alan, who was Tyler’s press aid. Apparently, there were journalists from Main Line Today, Philadelphia Magazine, Vanity Fair, the Philadelphia Inquirer and a few other smaller papers waiting to ask some questions and snap some photos. I guess that happened when your dad was a Senator and you had a party.
We went into the parlor where the journalists and photographers were waiting. Braden hovered next to me protectively, keeping his arm around my waist. At first the questions were all about the foundation and the work that it did but then out of left field came a question from the journalist from the Vanity Fair.
“Ms. Ginsberg, aren’t you the daughter of Ben Ginsberg, the CEO recently mentioned in the Times?” I saw the other magazine journalists perk up and pay attention. The newspaper people didn’t look as interested. Even other reporters probably found that article a little out there.
“Yes, he’s my father,” I answered before Alan jumped in.
“The Senator hasn’t had the opportunity to meet Gabrielle’s parents yet.”
“Does your dad like Senator Pierce’s politics?” the guy from Main Line Today asked.
“Well actually…”
“I don’t think that Mr. Ginsberg has made any official endorsement or statement on the matter,” Alan answered for me in political speak.
“Off the record then,” a woman from Philadelphia Magazine chimed in. “Might this be the joining of a political dynasty and a business empire?”
“Empire?” My dad had an empire? First he was a kingmaker, now he was an actual emperor. Did these people know my dad? He could barely match his socks without my mother’s help. Now my grandfather, he was more of an emperor. He was probably up in heaven financing major expansion as we spoke.
“Now, now,” Alan laughed. “Don’t you think that’s putting a little pressure on the kids?”
“Their kids would be among the wealthiest people in the country,” said the journalist from Vanity Fair. Did my parents have that much money? But they were so… average. Jesus, I really should have taken the money lectures more seriously.
“Gabrielle, is your father hoping to see you married to the son of a president?” asked the guy from Main Line Today. Was he kidding? My dad would be happy if I just didn’t become a crazy cat lady. This whole conversation was surreal. Alan looked like he was about to stroke out.
“Okay folks, we’ve got to wrap this up,” he said with a smile and a slight twitch. Why did I get the feeling that nobody had mentioned it to Alan that Braden was dating a kingmaker’s daughter? They snapped some last minute pictures and I smiled dutifully, wondering if I would become one of Braden’s Google Girls now. At least I would add some variety.
We headed down to the tent. The Pierces would stand in a reception line as guests arrived and I was left to my own devices, to a certain extent at least. Alan was hovering around to make sure that none of the journalists tried to corner me and I recognized the fact that the private security team members were watching me along with the Pierce’s. That was nice of them. I guess they figured Braden’s dad would be rather annoyed if the only woman his son had shown an interest in actually dating in two years got knocked off at his own party.
I stood off to the side and watched the guests arrive and mingle. They were mostly who I thought of as “the beautiful people” although clearly not all of them were actually beautiful. I needn’t have worried about wearing my good jewelry or felt self-conscious about the fact that my dress cost as much as some of my clients made in a month. In this crowd I blended. The reception line was just starting to wind down when I heard a familiar voice from the past say my name. I froze. It couldn’t be. There was no way. I had to be mistaken. I steeled myself, fixed a smile on my face and turned to face him.
* * *
“Cam? Wow, how are you?” I tried to sound cool and collected but my voice came out cracking and unnaturally high. I sounded like a boy going through puberty.
“Gabrielle. It is you. I thought it was, but you look sort of different.”
“Well, it’s been a long time. We were in college then. A lot’s happened. I graduated and went on to law school. I passed the bar and now I’ve been practicing law for two years. I’m sure I look a bit different. I am different. Really different — in lots of ways. I mean how could I possibly be the same? Who’s the same after eight years? Wow. Can you believe that it’s been eight years?” The words came tumbling out in a continuous stream. I was speaking so quickly I could barely understand myself. He seemed kind of confused but he had obviously latched onto the word “law.”
“I’m an attorney too. At Findlay Clay,” he said naming one of the most prestigious firms in town. No wonder we had never run into each other. That legal world was as far away from mine as one could get. Suddenly, the name of the firm clicked.
“Is the Clay…?”
“My father… and my grandfather… and my great-grandfather. Where do you work?”
“I’m a public defender,” I said almost defiantly. Inner-Gabrielle was jumping up and down and screaming “Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!” like some foul-mouthed rhesus monkey.
“That’s so interesting!” Huh? He actually sounded like he meant it. Yeah, it’s interesting. He should meet freaking Tiny.
Just then Braden walked up behind me and put his arm around me possessively. “I see you’ve met my cousin Cameron.” Oh fuck! You just had to know that was coming. (By the way,
I sometimes swear a lot when I’m stressed.) No wonder he reminded me of him! How could I have not seen the similarities? Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! I was filled with tension and I noticed that Cam had tensed up too. Great, and I really didn’t mean that.
“I knew Gabrielle back in college.” Now I felt Braden tense up. This was getting better by the moment. Everybody was tense in the tents. (I also make stupid jokes when I’m stressed. Okay – I do that normally too.) “We were friends.” That was all he said, although he looked at me intently. He wasn’t going to humiliate me. Thank God for small miracles. “So the two of are you dating?” he asked.
“Yes,” Braden answered. “Exclusively.”
“I see. Well, you’re a lucky guy. Gabrielle is incredibly nice, and thoughtful, and sweet, and pure …” He flinched as soon he realized his mistake. “Hearted. Pure hearted. And although she didn’t realize it, I wasn’t good enough to be her… friend.”
“No doubt,” Braden said cynically. I needed a drink. Or several. Why couldn’t somebody win a fucking trial now?
“Well, so anyway, as I was pointing out to Cam… eron. It’s been eight years.” I said significantly to Braden. “That’s a very long time and much has changed.”
“Yeah — you’re even more beautiful than you were then,” Cam said with a smile. Mr. Charming. I wanted to beat him senseless.
“Well, that’s because I’m happy. Very happy. I’m finally dating the guy who I’ve wanted for the past six months.” I looked up at Braden with an adoring smile.
“Six months? Really?” Braden asked. That seemed to mollify him a little.
“I take it that you haven’t been interested in me for as long?”
“Oh, I’ve been picturing you naked since about three seconds after I met you, but I’m a guy and you’re hot.”
“Well, I’m libidinous and you’re hot too.” He was looking significantly more cheerful now.
“I’m glad you’re happy now, Gabrielle. I want you to be happy. That’s all I ever wanted.” He sure had a funny way of showing it.
“Well, thank you. I want me to be happy too.” I smiled.
“Maybe we could be friends again,” he suggested.
“Didn’t he suggest being friends once before?” Braden asked. “Well at least he can only take your virginity and then blow you off once.” Well. If there had been any doubt that Braden had figured it out, that pretty much dispelled it.
“Gabrielle!” Cameron sounded like he was in actual physical pain.
“Braden!” I just sounded pissed.
“What?” Suddenly the resemblance between Braden and Drew was uncanny.
“Gabrielle, I never meant for that to happen. I didn’t even know.” He looked ill.
“I figured that out, Cam. Look, it was a long time ago and we’re all grown up people now.” I gave Braden a warning glance. “Let’s just forget it and move on.” I realized at that moment that I did really want to move on. I had been thinking about something that had happened when I was eighteen for long enough.
“Can we be friends again?” he asked, sounding very earnest.
“You want to be friends? Sure. We can be friends and I’m hoping that the two of you will also try to get along.”
“Why not? It’s not the first time he’s slept with my girlfriend.”
“Braden!” I glared at him and then what he had said sunk in. “Wait, am I your girlfriend?”
“Do you want to be my girlfriend?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Then you’re my girlfriend. And I know that you deserve better than me too, but I don’t care, because I’m selfish and I want you.”
“Okay, since he’s my friend and you’re my boyfriend I want you to call a truce. That means no more snark, Braden.”
“I thought you liked my sharp tongue.” He gave me a wicked look that made my tummy flutter.
“You have no idea how much I like your tongue, Braden; there aren’t words to describe how much I like it, just primal noises, but I want to try to put all of this shit behind us, so work with me here.”
“Fine. Peace, Cameron. And thanks for giving me an excuse to break up with the harpy.”
“Peace, Braden. No problem. She’s here by the way.”
“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to distract…”
“Are you nuts?! I’m surprised my dick didn’t freeze off the first time.” I saw the two of them exchange amused looks. That was progress. Sort of. “So is this a bad time to tell you that the reason I thought it was interesting that you’re a public defender was that my firm is sending me to the Defender Association to learn how to do pro bono cases for them?” He looked at me with a smile.
“What?”
“My firm…” Oh Jesus. That’s just what we needed, an associate from a big white shoe firm coming in to organize financial portfolios for drug dealers.
“Oh you’re going to love that, Cameron!” Braden laughed. “Just wait until you meet your new clients. Why don’t you tell him about Mr. Sanchez, Gabrielle? He was interested in making money.”
“I’ve been bored lately and I thought it would be kind of exciting,” Cam said naively and Braden laughed harder. This was going to be a bloodbath.
“Okay, Cameron. If you manage to make it through this I’ll consider that you’ve done penance and I’ll never mention the harpy to you again.” Braden smiled.
“It’s a deal!” Cam looked genuinely happy. He had been waiting a long time to be forgiven.
“If you want you can shadow my friend Jess and me,” I offered. What the hell. Maybe it would help us all get past the awkwardness. “We’re usually in the same courtroom with Braden and his friend Adam.”
“Really? Well, maybe they’ll let me.” He seemed really happy. He’d been waiting a long time for me to forgive him too. “Looking forward to it! I’m going to go say hi to Aunt Claire and Uncle Tyler.”
We said goodbye and when he had left Braden turned to me.
“I had a feeling it might possibly be Cameron you were with. People have always said we look and sound alike. He’s the right age and he went to Yale and to law school.”
“I honestly didn’t know, Braden. It was so long ago and he was younger. I swear that my being attracted to you has absolutely nothing to do with him. He was cute and I was eighteen. You get me big-girl excited.” I reached up and ran my finger along his jawline.
“Oh really?” He smiled.
“Really,” I said suggestively.
“Well, maybe we can…”
CHAPTER TWELVE
He never got to finish that sentence because a platinum blonde in a Valentino dress that probably cost enough to support a village in the Third World for a year, came charging up, and standing directly in front of me as if I weren’t there, proceeded to try to start a conversation with Braden. If you could call it that.
“Braden! There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“Why? I have nothing to say to you. I had nothing to say to you when I was dating you.”
“Oh for Christ’s sake! Get over it already. I’m getting tired of your dramatics.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” he demanded. I had backed up by this point and circled around to Braden’s side. Obviously this was Braden’s ex, the lovely Marla.
“Cut the bullshit. If you want to start thinking about running for office you’re going to need the right wife and lucky for you, I’m still available.”
“You’re out of your mind! I would never marry you. I don’t even like you.”
“My family has money and influence. We don’t have to like each other. We don’t even have to fuck each other although you had no problem fucking me before.”
“I was nineteen! I had no problem fucking anybody!”
“Yeah, okay, whatever. If you’re not careful you’re going to lose me.”
“Lose you? I can’t get rid of you! You can’t seem to get it through that empty, deluded, narcissistic head of yours that I
have no interest in you. And why would you think I was interested in politics either?”
“Why else would you want to work for the DA? It’s not like they pay anything.”
“I have a trust fund. I could work for free if I wanted. How did you even get on the guest list?”
“By agreeing to donate a grand to your family’s fucking foundation.”
“Well Marla, thanks for the donation but I have a real girlfriend now, who I actually like.”
I must confess that up until then I had been feeling mighty awkward just standing there listening to this conversation while both of them completely ignored me. As soon as Braden made that little revelation, though, Marla seemed to notice me for the first time.
“Her?” she asked disdainfully, looking me up and down. “This mousy girl in the fake jewelry and the Carolina Herrera knock-off?”
“Hey! This is a Carlos Miele original and this is a diamond necklace from Harry Winston. You’re one to talk about fake with your bleach blonde hair, your spray tan and your plastic tits, lady.”
“Did you hear that, Braden?!” Marla screeched.
“Yes, I did,” he answered with obvious amusement. “You tell her, baby.” He leaned down and kissed me. “Now Marla, I think it’s best that you left. You’ve wasted more than a thousand dollars’ worth of my time and patience.” He signaled one of the security team and explained that Marla had overstayed her welcome. We walked off as she was being hustled toward the drive complaining loudly and threatening to sue.
“She’s a real sweetie.” I smiled.
“Yeah, she’s a charmer. I must have been insane. Oh shit,” he said looking up and trying a bit too late, apparently, to steer us in the other direction. I followed his gaze and saw a man who appeared to be somewhere in his late thirties or possibly early forties. He had “pretty boy” looks and blindingly white teeth with an expression that reminded me somehow of the Big Bad Wolf. (The better to eat you with, my dear!) Not far behind him was a woman who looked like she might be in her mid-forties. She might have been considered quite attractive if she just didn’t look so… mean. She had black hair streaked with iron gray and a cruel expression on her thin lips. She looked like someone who would have blended in well at a witch burning. They were closing in on us rapidly. Bringing up the rear were a painfully skinny and anemic-looking older man who might have been forty… or fifty… or sixty, and a sullen young woman with jet black hair and lily white skin. She was dressed all in black, including her lipstick. Those two looked like they would have preferred to have headed in the other direction, or anywhere else for that matter, other than after the first two.