Letters to Gabriella

by Patricia Paris

  She should have told him the truth by now. The longer she waited the harder it would be and the less he would understand her motivations. She chewed at the corner of her bottom lip. Six days had passed since he told her about the accident, and although she had vowed to tell him who she really was before Chloe got back, Gab felt no more ready to do so now than she had then.

  If she’d never found her father’s letters and discovered how he felt, it would be a lot easier. She had closed the door on that part of her life years ago, and all her loyalties would have been with Justin. That wasn’t the case anymore. She understood his feelings, but could he understand hers? What if he couldn’t disassociate his feelings for her father from his feelings for her?

  She blinked back the heat gathering behind her eyes. How would she feel if she were in his place? She’d never had the kind of relationship with her parents that he’d had with his. The closest thing to that kind of deep, unconditional love she’d ever known was the love she felt for Chloe, and if anyone ever did anything that hurt her daughter… Gab gave her head a hard shake, refusing to even think about the possibility. The mere thought of losing Chloe was too disturbing to consider.

  She sighed deeply, caught in a tug of war between doing the right thing and risking losing the man she loved, or doing nothing and living with a lie. She didn’t want to build their relationship on a false foundation; it would never hold up. If there was any chance they could have the kind of future she wanted with him, it had to be anchored in trust and respect first, or the love they’d found wouldn’t survive.

  An hour later, Gab walked into Mosey’s Diner, where she was meeting the attorney for her father’s estate, and looked around.

  “Morning, sweetie, is Delaney going to be joining you?”

  “Not today, Molly,” Gab greeted the waitress with a warm smile. One of the things she loved about living in a small town was that everyone knew you and treated you like an old friend. It made her feel like she belonged to something bigger than herself. She was part of this community now; it was her home.

  “I am meeting someone, but I don’t know what he looks like. A Mr. Carell, do you by chance know him, or if he’s here yet?”

  “Follow me, hon.” Molly led Gab past the dessert counter to a window booth where a young George Clooney look-alike sat watching the goings on in town through the window as he sipped a cup of coffee.

  “Hey, Poke,” Molly said with a familiarity that caught Gab off guard. She knew the attorney lived on the Eastern Shore, but she hadn’t gotten the impression he lived close enough to Glebe Point to have gotten friendly with the locals. Given he was handling her father’s estate, she didn’t know why she hadn’t considered it.

  “Miss Fiorelli, I presume.” The man slid out of the booth and offered his hand, flashing a broad smile she thought had probably devastated droves of females. His smoke gray eyes did a quick scan of her person, and when they met hers, she wasn’t sure if it was surprise or amusement she saw there.

  Gab shook his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Carell.”

  “Do you want anything to eat, hon?” Molly asked.

  Gab held up her hand. “No thanks, just coffee, Molly.”

  Carell motioned toward the booth and waited until Gabriella was seated on her side before sitting back down. After a few introductory niceties, he updated her on the status of the estate and went over the papers he needed her signatures on. She was shocked when he told her she would be receiving a final distribution when the estate was closed out. He didn’t have an exact figure but said it would be close to two hundred thousand. Gab hadn’t been expecting anything. She had imagined her father had lived a modest and possibly reclusive life. It struck her how little she really knew about the man. She didn’t even know what he had done for a living, and although two hundred thousand wasn’t a fortune, she would never have imagined he’d saved that much money.

  She glanced down at her coffee cup, a wave of sadness rolling through her.

  “Did you know my father well?” She looked up at the lawyer and swallowed, hoping he could share something, anything that might give her some insight into the man she’d never even cared about until a few months ago. “I never…my mom and he split up when I was very young. He’s sort of a mystery to me.” A nervous anticipation gripped her, and she realized how much she wanted to hear something good about her dad, to believe someone other than her had recognized something worthy in the man who had poured his heart out to her in his letters.

  “I didn’t know him well.” The attorney looked at her, his expression solemn, but his eyes were tender, almost sympathetic. “I only met with him a few times, and he was—” He glanced out the window a moment, as if collecting his thoughts. “Your father knew he didn’t have long to live when he contacted me. He wanted to draw up a will.” He looked across the table and met her questioning gaze. “He wanted to make sure you got everything when he died.”

  “Did he say anything else? I mean…about me?”

  “Just that he didn’t know where you were. And when I asked if there was anyone else he wanted to consider in the will, he said you were all that mattered to him.” His eyes were kind and warm, and she felt like he knew more but chose not to tell her.

  Gab nodded. The large, hot lump forming at the back of her throat made it hard to respond. She could feel tears threatening and looked away, feeling foolish and overly sentimental.

  “Sorry,” she managed with an apologetic smile. “I don’t know what came over me. I don’t usually get so emotional. “

  He didn’t say anything, just gave her a minute to collect herself.

  Gab forced a more cheerful face. Her emotions were raw, but she wouldn’t risk an emotional scene in front of this man in the middle of Mosey’s. She could wait until she got back home and then, if she still felt like it, she could cry her heart out.

  “If there’s nothing else we need to discuss, I should be on my way and let you get on with your day. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable with questions about my father.”

  “You didn’t,” he assured her gently.

  “Well, thank you, Mr. Carell, and thanks for everything you did for my dad, too.”

  “You’re welcome, and please call me Mark. You’re making me feel like an old man, and I don’t think I’m that much older than you.”

  She grinned, liking him very much. “Okay, Mark. And you can call me Gabriella, or Gab.”

  “Do you ever get Gabby?”

  “Only if the other person doesn’t know better.”

  He chuckled. “Got it.” He glanced at his watch. “My lunch date won’t be here for another half hour. Why don’t you let me buy you some lunch before you take off? It’ll make me feel better since you had to drive into town to meet me.”

  “That’s not necessary. I don’t want to put you out, and I can take care of a couple of errands while I’m in town.”

  “Okay, let me phrase it differently. I’d like to buy you lunch so I don’t have to sit here by myself for thirty minutes twiddling my thumbs. It’ll make the time go by much quicker.”

  Angling her head, she studied him a moment. He gave her a pleading puppy dog look that made her laugh.

  “I suppose I can keep you company until then, but there’s no need to buy me lunch.” She sat back in the booth, glancing sideways when Molly walked past. “How do you know Molly so well?” she asked, and then remembering the name the waitress had used, added, “and why did she call you Poke?”

  She was surprised to learn he had actually grown up in Glebe Point but set up his practice in a neighboring town after he got out of law school. The nickname was something he said he’d picked up as a young child. Whenever he’d be out with his mother and she got into conversations with anyone, he would always poke her in the leg to get her attention. She’d started to call him Poke and it stuck.

  They were having an enjoyable conversation when a deep, familiar voice interrupted them.

  “Would one of
you like to explain what’s going on here, or do you and I need to meet out in the back parking lot to settle things like men?” Justin was looking at Mark with a raised brow, but there was a hint of amusement in his tone.

  Gab stared at him, the blood draining from her face. Mark stood up, and they hugged as if they were old friends.

  “It’s great to see you, man,” Mark said, patting Justin on the back.

  “You too.” Justin slid into the booth next to Gab and slipped his arm around her shoulder. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” He leaned sideways and gave her a quick kiss on the lips.

  “You two know each other?” Mark asked, looking a little disappointed and a lot surprised.

  Justin glanced across the table, studied his friend’s face a second, then looked back at her. “I was just going to ask the same thing.” His eyes held a question, but he looked away and addressed Mark. “You weren’t trying to pick up my lady, were you?”

  Mark looked between the two of them and gave a short laugh. “I should have known if there was a pretty lady in town, she wouldn’t be safe from you.”

  While they engaged in friendly male jabs, Gab tried to calm her careening nerves. She needed to think of some excuse to get Mark away for a minute alone before he said something about her dad’s estate, or before Justin pressed to know what they were doing together.

  “I’ve got to go,” she blurted, not caring if it seemed a little odd. All she cared about was preventing Justin from finding out she was Phil Landfred’s daughter from an old friend instead of her. She didn’t want to have the discussion in the middle of a diner and face his anger with an audience. And all of a sudden, she was afraid he was going to be very angry when she told him the truth.

  She pushed against Justin with her hip to get him to let her out. He gave her a confused look and frowned.

  “Where do you need to rush off to?”

  “I need to go, Justin,” she said a little too defensively. “I’ve got…things I need to do.” She nudged him again, her pulse racing. He narrowed his gaze at her but slid out.

  “It was nice to finally meet you, Gab. I’ll give you a call if I need anything else,” Mark said, and her heart clutched in her chest. The way she was acting, there was no way Justin wasn’t already wondering what was going on. Her shoulders drooped. The moment of truth would be unavoidable now, but it would have to wait a little longer. She had no intention of telling him her secret with an audience of afternoon diners looking on.

  “Gab?” Justin said, her old nickname sounding strange coming from his lips. He’d always called her by her full name. His expression had grown more serious, and he regarded her with a reserve she’d never seen in him before. “Do either of you want to clue me in on what the hell’s going on?”

  Gab looked at Mark. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t divulge anything about the subject we discussed this morning with anyone.” She looked down. “Especially Justin.”

  Mark looked uncomfortable. He glanced from her to Justin. She hated to put him in such an awkward position, but she wanted Justin to hear the truth from her.

  “Anything we discuss is confidential,” Mark said. “I would never breach attorney-client privilege.”

  Gabriella nodded, hoping she hadn’t insulted him by saying anything. “Thank you, and…please don’t be offended…I should have known.” Swallowing, she faced Justin but couldn’t quite look him in the eye, not when she knew she should have already told him the truth.

  “I’ll explain everything tonight.” Her mind scrambled for something else to say that could dispel some of the dark gloom she felt descending around them, but nothing came to her. She backed away, feeling like a coward and knowing she had brought this on herself.

  “I’ll…I’ll see you later.” She managed a quick glance at Justin. He was staring at her with his mouth open, as if he couldn’t believe she was walking away from him without further explanation.

  “It was nice to meet you,” she said to Mark, offering him a lame smile. She didn’t know if he knew about Justin’s parents or the role her father had played in the accident, but from his expression he knew something unpleasant was going on between her and Justin.

  She brushed past Justin without another word. She was running from him, from herself, and from the storm brewing on the horizon.

  Justin paced the apartment like an innocent man who’d been thrown into a jail cell with no explanation of what he’d done to be in that position.

  Gabriella would be there any minute, and she better have a damned good explanation for what was going on. He’d spent the entire afternoon veering from concern to anger over her behavior at the diner. Mark hadn’t been any help. His old friend wouldn’t tell him anything after Gabriella left the diner except to say they’d been discussing a business matter. Justin could appreciate lawyer/client privilege, but whatever they’d been meeting about, it was obvious when he interrupted their meeting that he’d caught her off guard. She’d barely been able to look him in the eyes, and when she had, she’d looked so damn guilty it was no wonder he felt like she was intentionally hiding something from him. He didn’t want to doubt her, but what the hell was he supposed to think?

  Justin frowned. When he’d called Mark yesterday to see if they were still on for lunch today, he confirmed they were, and added that he’d scheduled to meet a client at eleven to get some signatures needed to close out an estate. He’d said that since his client was also meeting him at Mosey’s, and he didn’t anticipate it taking more than a half hour, he’d just hang out at the diner in the event Justin was able to break away before noon to meet him.

  Blowing out a sigh, Justin walked over to the front window and looked out, watching for Gabriella’s car. She had to be the client Mark had referred to. But why would he be talking to her about an estate? How would they have ever even met? She was from Connecticut. She didn’t know anyone from around here, so what estate business could they have been discussing?

  His gut clenched at a sudden, inconceivable thought. He shook his head, refusing to believe the possibility. She was too young to be dying…but what if she was? What if she had an incurable disease and wanted to make sure her affairs were all in order?

  His breathing grew shallow. He couldn’t lose her…and what about Chloe? She needed her mother. They were going to be a family, the three of them.

  “No,” he said out loud with finality. She wasn’t dying. She wasn’t. And they were talking about an estate settling, he reminded himself, not setting something up. He blew out a harsh breath of relief. They couldn’t have been talking about her. So who?

  His doorbell rang and he jogged down the steps to let her in, the tempest that had been tearing up his insides weighing him down with too many unanswered questions.

  “Do you want something to drink?” he asked when they got to the apartment, waiting for her to take the lead and hopefully put his mind at ease.

  She shook her head. Her tension wrapped around him, unwelcome, heavy, a barrier that kept her out of his reach. He knew her so well, but here stood a stranger. Where was the woman he’d held in his arms a dozen times and made sweet love to? What had she done with the fun-loving goddess who made his heart ache with tenderness and his body burn with desire?

  She stood motionless, looking at her feet, as if what she had to say might change everything between them. She had become such a part of him, but based on her expression, he had a sick feeling that part of him was about to take a serious hit.

  “Can we sit down?” she finally said, the bleakness of her tone adding to his bewilderment. Justin held his emotions in check. He’d spent most of the day jumping to conclusions and imagining a dozen different scenarios. He extended his hand toward the couch in awkward formality.

  She sat down, stared at her hands, looking stiff and uneasy. He took a seat a few feet away from her. “So what’s up?” he asked, trying not to sound like his heart was hanging by a thread, ready to drop off a cliff. He considered trying to put her
mind at rest, tell her no matter what she had to tell him he loved her and nothing would change that. But another part of him cautioned that if she was going to be shattering his dreams, he’d rather not look like a fool while she did it.

  “There’s no easy way to tell you this,” she started, twisting her fingers together.

  “So just spit it out,” he interrupted a little curtly, just wanting to know what the hell he was up against.

  She turned her face toward him. He saw then that there were tears in her eyes, and he was swamped with a need to wrap her in his arms and kiss them away, to tell her everything would be all right, whatever it was. Her sadness pierced his heart, but something stronger held him at bay, and he did nothing.

  “The house,” she said, and he wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly.

  “What?”

  “The house, Justin…my house…I, I didn’t buy it.”

  GABRIELLA’S DREAMS came tumbling down around her. The minute the words left her mouth there was no turning back. Since the moment she’d arrived, Justin had been acting like a stranger. He hadn’t kissed her; he hadn’t held her. He’d just watched her with the same expression of wariness he regarded her with now. It was hard to believe this was the same man who had loved her so tenderly, the one who had teased her, and laughed with her, and made her feel cherished.

  “What do you mean you didn’t buy it?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. The muscle in his jaw flinched, and she knew just the mention of the house was enough to turn his mood.

  “I inherited it,” she said quietly, bracing for his reaction.

  He stared at her a moment. “Come again?”

  “I said I inherited it.”

  “That’s impossible!” He pushed up off the couch, stepped around the coffee table and faced her. “How the hell could you have inherited Landfred’s house unless you knew him?” He glared at her, refusing to accept the obvious. Gab closed her eyes and pursed her lips, biting back tears. Why hadn’t she told him sooner? Why had she let it go on this long?