When Fates Collide

by Isabelle Richards

  The walkways by the canal are packed with joggers, stroller-pushers, and dog walkers. Gavin masterfully navigates us through the human gridlock. His fingers are threaded through mine, and he occasionally brings my hand to his lips for a sweet kiss.

  Once we break free of the crowd, I say, “So, you want to tell me what’s going on? I only overheard bits and pieces, but it sounded like a miserable conversation.”

  “Work,” he grumbles. “Never-ending work.”

  “You’re the boss. Can’t you just make someone else do it?” I don’t really have any business sense, but it seems like he should be able to delegate.

  He laughs. “It doesn’t work that way. I wish it did, but it doesn’t. Next week, I have to fly to Oslo, Cairo, and then Tel Aviv. It’s going to be hell.” He explains how his company is rolling out a new product. It’s top secret, so he can’t go into details. But if it’s successful, it could save thousands of lives on the battlefield. Apparently, he’s the only one in his company that can sell it the way he wants, so the buck stops with him. I can hear in his voice how much the business matters to him and his worry that he’s dropping the ball.

  I lightly hip-check him “It’s tough being the boss, huh?”

  “Yes, but I wouldn’t change it for anything. As much as I hated my family’s company growing up, I know what we do makes a difference.”

  “And you get to see the world. One boardroom at a time,” I joke.

  “I’ve seen the world. It’s not as glamorous as it sounds.”

  “I’ve never left the US,” I reply. “Well, with the exception of some trips across the border when I was living in Arizona. But that hardly counts. Nogales and Tijuana are not really jet-setting destinations. ”

  “Really, you’ve never gone abroad?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “Nope. Never had the money. We were supposed to go to Tahiti on my honeymoon, but it didn’t work out. Not long after that, I stopped sleeping with him, so he never saw the point of taking me anywhere.”

  He puts his arms around me. “When you’re ready, I’ll take you around the world. Show you everything.”

  “Oh, think of the frequent flyer miles,” I say deflecting. While I would love to be taken around the world, I’m not holding my breath. I’d learned a while ago that men love to promise the sun, moon, and stars but delivery is a whole different story.

  His arm drops from my shoulder. “You doubt me?”

  “It’s not you I doubt. It’s life,” I reply. “Life’s an endless assault of curveballs. I mean, look at us, the only reason we’re together is because your crazy crashed into my crazy. If one of them had been five minutes later, neither of us would even know the other existed. In a world that random, it’s hard to trust that anything’s going to work out. So, don’t expect me to hold my breath for an around-the-world cruise.”

  The muscles in his body tense as his gait speeds up. “Wow, I had no idea you were such an optimist,” he said sarcastically.

  The conversation has suddenly taken an ugly turn, something I seem to have a knack for causing. It isn’t my intention to cast a dark cloud over us, but I refuse to go along to get along ever again. I’m going to be honest with myself and with him every step of the way. “I’m optimistic. Cautiously optimistic. It’s not like I don’t have hope. I do. I’m just careful with it.”

  His face falls. “You don’t trust me?”

  I pull a leaf off a tree as we pass and pull it apart as we walk. “I do trust you. I just don’t get my hopes up. Trust me, Gavin. It’s not you, it’s me. I’m a ‘believe it when I see it’ kind of girl.”

  “Well, I guess I’ll just have to show you then.”

  “I hope that you do,” I say, all smiles, trying to reverse the dark mood I’ve brought down on us. I search his face, waiting for a reply. I normally love Gavin’s ocean blue eyes, but when he’s upset, they’re like liquid blue pain. It hurts to look at him. The silence goes on long past comfort. “Are you pouting because I’m not always sunshine and rainbows?” I ask.

  “I’m not pouting,” he argues.

  “Okay, fine. You’re sullen and brooding. Is that better? You haven’t said a word in over a mile.”

  “You’ve given me a lot to think about,” he says flatly.

  I’m not exactly sure what that means, but I let it go. I’m fairly certain I don’t want to end up wherever that conversation would lead.

  The rest of the walk back to the hotel is silent. I can tell he’s really upset when he won’t even hold my hand. I try to catch his gaze, but he won’t look at me either. I’m not exactly sure what I’ve done, but it seems to be undoing all that lies between us.

  Back upstairs, Gavin opens the door to the suite but blocks me as I try to go in. He lifts my chin with a finger so I have to look him in the eye. Not saying a word, he studies me with a fierceness I can’t identify. I don’t know if it’s anger, resentment, sadness… Maybe all of the above.

  “You going to talk to me about it or are you going to burn holes in my soul with your eyes?” I ask, breaking the silence.

  “You don’t want to come to London because you don’t trust that this will work.”

  “Was that a statement or a question?”

  “Take it however you’d like.” He sounds as though he’s giving up.

  “Gavin, I’d be fundamentally insane if I were to move four thousand miles away and not at least have doubts. Not doubts in you. Not doubts in our connection or the relationship that we’re building. Just doubts in the way the universe works. Life is crazy and unpredictable. The same sort of crazy twist of fate that brought us together could just as quickly tear us apart. I still believe happily ever after exists. I just won’t be broken if it doesn’t happen for me.”

  “One day, I hope to break down your guard and see you build some trust. In me. In the world.”

  Beating down the emotions his statement stirs, I flash him a big smile. “One day, I hope you take me around the world and then you can say your favorite line.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Well, then you could tell me how you were right and I was wrong,” I say jokingly, hoping to ease some of the tension.

  He smirks, giving me a small sign he might be okay. “I do like to be right.”

  “Will there be beaches on this trip? ‘Cause I could seriously use some beach time. Just you, me, frozen fruity drinks, and crashing waves.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” He leans down and kisses me. I can still feel his brooding just beneath the surface, but hopefully he won’t let it linger too long.

  His poor mood slowly dissipates over the rest of weekend. By the time he leaves on Sunday evening, we’re both back to smiles and laughter. The poor guy’s flight lands at six in the morning, and he has to go straight to the office for a full day of meetings. The ironman lifestyle he leads is insane, and I worry he’s going to burn out. Despite the exhaustion, he says it’s been worth it so he could see me. After seeing him off at the airport, the cab brings me and my IKEA purchases to my new condo.

  Coming home to your own place is a powerful feeling. I lean against the doorframe and take in my condo. It’s all mine! While looking on in reverie, I notice an envelope lying on the island. I tentatively open it. The note inside reads:

  Dear Lily,

  Don’t be mad.

  I simply cannot have you sleeping on the floor. Or with Max! This is the same mattress I have at home. I know you‘ll love it. If you hate it, donate it. But I know you won’t hate it. I have impeccable taste. Just look at my girlfriend.

  Wish I were there to break it in with you.

  Gavin

  I rush to the bedroom to find a giant mattress already lying in the middle of the floor. I immediately flop onto it.

  It turns out Gavin’s right—it’s an amazing mattress, like sleeping on a cloud. I spend all of Monday sleeping, only waking to call him to thank him profusely for his gift. He sounds pleasantly surprised, seeing as I’m not the best at acceptin
g gifts. He says he was sure I’d hate it on principle. When he puts it that way, I sound like a real charmer.

  Things still feel strained between us, but I hope they’ll get better. As awkward as things have been, I know I want to keep working things out. When we’re off, I feel like a part of me is broken, which is ridiculous considering the short time we’ve known each other. Ridiculous but undeniably true.

  By Tuesday, the swelling in my face has gone down. I have an assignment due as well, so it’s back to the grindstone. My laptop hums as it boots up for the first time in days. I find no less than ten emails from Charlie! I ignore them for the moment and move on to more pressing matters.

  As I get settled in, the home office looks like a better and better option. Well, a room that one day will be a home office. Until then, my kickass bed makes a good workstation.

  The next few weeks go by like a blur. Max finally moves in. It’s nice to have my partner in crime back. He and the boys have been busy conspiring with Gavin to beef up the security in the building. They think they’re doing it on the sly, but Max accidentally leaves schematics and notes all over the place. Part of me wants to stomp my feet and tell them to stop meddling. But that’s just my pride talking. Since the threat level is still uncertain, increased security is a welcome bonus.

  Moving a few blocks further away from the studios has given me an excuse to give up yoga and painting. Despite attempting to throw all of my canvases away, Max keeps digging them out of the trash pile and hanging them up to torment me. He says that one day I’ll look back on them and be happy I have something from my “cartel period.”

  With fall in full swing, it’s getting too cold to run. Desperate to keep the runner’s legs I’m so proud of, I think about joining a gym, but Max has a better idea. Since the condo is still basically devoid of furniture, we decide to turn the living room into a sparring gym with mats he’s “borrowed” from the FBI training center. Our workouts start out as basic self-defense instruction, but as I get into it, Max begins teaching me a blend of martial arts. There’s nothing like kicking the crap out of something to burn off frustration.

  My blog reaches fifty-thousand followers. I just can’t believe how far it’s come in just a couple of months. A few A-listers tweet about it and boom—more followers than I can fathom! One afternoon, out of the blue, a publisher contacts me about a possible book deal. I make plans to head to New York in November to meet with them. After I tell him, Gavin sends over champagne, Baccarat flutes, and so many flowers that we run out of places to put them.

  Knowing that people are actually reading, I put even more work into the blog—especially the marketing, which turns out to be a full time job in and of itself. My freelancing slows down a bit as a result, but I know I’ll be okay moneywise for a few months.

  Gavin calls to tell me he has to go on a crazy three-week long business trip soon, some sort of marketing/networking extravaganza. It sounds pretty swanky, and he says that most people bring a spouse or partner. His hints are as subtle as a freight train, and I’m petrified he’ll come straight out and ask me to go. Being introduced as his girlfriend? The thought alone sends my insecurity meter through the roof. There’s bound to be a lot of pressure that comes with being Gavin Edward’s arm candy. People are used to seeing him with Brooke Livingston. Before that, it had been an endless string of supermodels. I can’t fill Brooke’s shoes. My ego couldn’t take all the disapproving glances.

  I hurry off the phone before he can ask me to go on the trip and spend the next two days dodging his calls. I call back during times I know he can’t answer. He eventually emails begging me to join him, to which I claim I can’t because of the publisher meeting coming up, saying I want to stay focused on that. It’s bullshit, but it’s the best I’ve got.

  Not wanting him to leave without us talking at least once, I bite the bullet and Skype him.

  “Hey,” I say, flashing him an over the top smile, trying to set a positive tone.

  I can tell I’ve caught him in the middle of something. He has a bunch of files in one hand and a legal pad in the other, with a pen tucked behind his ear. Working Gavin is so sexy. His tie is a little loose around his neck, and his hair is ruffled. Clearly, he’s buried in work. But he looks smoking hot doing it.

  “Hey yourself. How are you, luv?” People flit in and out of his office in the background, handing him files, taking files.

  “Busy,” I lie. “Been writing up a storm trying to prepare for this meeting in New York.”

  He stops what he’s doing and looks into the screen. “I can’t tell you how proud of you I am. It’s so exciting.”

  “Thank you. That means a lot. It’s just an introductory meeting, so I’m trying not to get my hopes up. It could be something, or it could be nothing.”

  Someone appears beside him and hands him a piece of paper, which he scans and then looks up. “Cautiously optimistic, right?”

  “Exactly,” I reply. “You ready for your trip?”

  He looks around his office. “As you can probably see, its bedlam here. There’s so much to complete before we depart. I literally haven’t left the office in three days.”

  Looking closer at him, I can see the stress wearing on him. He’s so sexy that it’s easy to miss the bags under his eyes. “You work too hard.”

  His cell phone dings. He picks it up and scrolls down the screen with a scowl on his face. “Par for the course when your name’s on the building,” he says, looking terribly serious.

  I desperately want to see that million-dollar smile. “How many bags are you taking? My guess is seven.”

  I’d expected at least a chuckle or snicker, but he simply stops what he’s doing and stares at me. I guess I should have done this good-bye over the phone. The elephant in our virtual room wouldn’t have been nearly so imposing. I wouldn’t have had to see the hurt and disappointment in his eyes.

  After what feels like an eternity, he says, “Over the next few weeks, I’m going to have limited opportunities to talk to you, so I don’t want our last conversation before that to be like this, but I’m also not going to sit here and lie to you, pretending I’m not sorely disappointed you’re not joining me on this trip. Even if just for a few days.”

  “Gavin, we’ve been over this. It isn’t good timing for me. You can’t expect me to drop everything just because you have a cool trip. I have a life.”

  “I don’t expect you to drop everything. Your meeting isn’t for ten days. You could easily come before. Or you could come after your meeting, and we could celebrate.”

  “If there’s something to celebrate,” I mutter.

  “Fine, we could wallow in disappointment. At least we could do it together and in a beautifully luxurious resort.”

  “Gavin—”

  “Is it really so awful that I want you to be a part of my life? Truly? That’s all this is, Lily—me trying to bring you into my life. When I met you, I had twenty-four hours a day with you for a week. Then I left, and now I only get these short bits of time. It isn’t enough. I want more. I want more than for you to be a voice on the phone that I sometimes get to see every few weeks. I want to share my life with you, not just have you be one more thing that I schedule into my day.” He’s clearly hurt. His voice, his face, his eyes are all filled with frustration and disappointment.

  “Gavin, I’m just not ready for this.”

  “Ready for what exactly?”

  I throw my hands up. “For this. Going with you on this trip would be a big deal.”

  “Aren’t you the one that’s always saying you want more than to be shuffled into clandestine hotel rooms? This would be a proper trip. It isn’t a big deal. It’s just you and me. How is it different than meeting me in Boston?”

  “It just is. It wouldn’t be just you and me. It’s you and me and people from your company. There’d be so many expectations.”

  He sighs and looks sympathetic. Maybe he’s calming down? “I understand where you’re coming from. But luv, we
’ll deal with it together. I’ll support you in every possible way. Whatever it takes to make you feel comfortable. I just want some time with you. It’ll really be an amazing trip. You can skip the business part, and we can just sneak away.”

  “You’re still missing the point, Gavin. They’re used to seeing you with a—” I stop myself. I don’t want to go there. “You know what? This isn’t going anywhere.”

  “Finish what you were going to say, Lily. They’re used to seeing me with what?”

  “Gavin, just let this go. Please. I can’t go with you. I’m sorry. I just can’t right now.” I don’t know why I can’t talk to him about this, but I can’t. I know I need to. If we’re ever going to be able to move forward, I’m going to have to get past Brooke’s ghost. But I’m not there yet today.

  “Stop shutting me out. Talk to me.”

  “Gavin, please. Let’s just drop it.”

  Chaos erupts behind him in his office—phones ring, people rush in demanding his attention, his secretary buzzes by. He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. “Lily, I don’t know how you expect things to get better if you don’t talk to me. I don’t know about anything anymore. I think I should go. We can talk more about this later, I suppose. Goodbye, Lily.”

  The screen goes black, and he’s gone.

  Pangs of regret hit me like a kick to the gut. I’ve just screwed up big time. I can feel it.

  I know I should have agreed to go with him. How many girls are offered amazing trips to spectacular resorts to spend time with their gorgeous boyfriends? While my feelings are valid, I know I’m overreacting. But knowing it and doing something about it are two different things. I’m being a coward, and it disgusts me.

  I know I can’t make it up to him right now, but I decide surprising him by going to London for Christmas might be a good idea. I hop online to book my tickets. Afterward, I send him a package with a copy of Frank Sinatra’s “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” and my travel itinerary.

  Hopefully, my homecoming present to him will smooth over my absence on this trip. I make sure to write the date very clearly on the FedEx form. I want him to know I sent the package before he left. I know it doesn’t make up for my stubbornness completely, maybe not at all. But it’s a step, and it’s all I can manage right now.