“I don’t have anything of his! And even if I did, you know I don’t want to talk to him. He is not a good guy, Dad. He acts one way around you. With me…” Julia shook slightly.
“Are you sure it wasn’t a misunderstanding?”
“It’s pretty difficult to misunderstand threats and harassment, Dad. He doesn’t get to talk to me. He doesn’t get to be my friend. And no apology will make up for what he did.”
Tom sighed into the phone.
“All right, Jules. I’m sorry. I won’t give anyone your number. But are you sure you don’t want to give him a second chance? He comes from a great family. And everyone makes mistakes.”
Julia rolled her eyes so hard they nearly spiraled out of her head and dropped onto the floor. In that instant she wanted to be vindictive. She wanted to ask her father if he would have taken her mother back if he’d seen what she walked in on at age twelve—Sharon bent over the kitchen table by one of the boyfriends. But she was not vindictive, so she didn’t.
“Dad, he might be a senator’s son but he’s a son of a bitch. And what was broken can never be fixed. Trust me.”
Tom exhaled loudly. “Okay. When are you coming home?”
“Thursday.”
“And you’re driving with Rachel and Aaron?”
“That’s the plan. Gabriel is coming too.” Julia tried to make her lie convincing.
“See to it that you stick close to Aaron and as far as possible from Gabriel.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s a bad apple. I’m surprised he isn’t in jail right now. All I can say is he’s lucky he moved to Canada.”
Julia shook her head. “If he was a felon, the Canadians wouldn’t have granted him a work visa.”
“Canadians let anyone in. Including terrorists.”
Julia stuck her tongue out at her father’s anti-Canadian bias and proceeded to plan her visit with him, hoping against hope that he would keep his promises.
***
After another Dante seminar in which Christa shamelessly flirted with Gabriel, Julia found herself walking home with Paul, who continued to be charming and friendly. They commiserated over Christa’s new sexier-than-thou wardrobe and please-let-me-seduce-you-before-you-fail-me stiletto boots, before Julia bid him good evening and entered her apartment. She made herself a modest dinner of chicken noodle soup and Lady Grey tea, and admired her birthday presents.
Once Julia’s birthday had been so rudely interrupted by Simon, Gabriel poured her a glass of wine and insisted that she relax by the fire while he prepared dinner. After dinner and a candlelit birthday cake, he presented her with gifts before taking her to bed.
He’d stayed awake almost all night, caressing her back and her arms, their legs rubbing together. She’d woken up several times in a nightmare-induced haze, but each time he’d comforted her and held her more tightly. She felt safe with him but worried about how he would react when he found out the truth. If she was ever able to work up the courage to speak the words.
Her iPhone was a gift—of sorts. On Sunday morning, when Gabriel sheepishly held out the broken pieces of her old phone, she’d laughed, for which he’d been grateful. When he explained that he was so angry that Simon had upset her that he’d smashed her phone, she smiled. She graciously accepted his more sophisticated replacement as well as his patient tutelage in learning how to operate the damn thing.
He’d uploaded the photos Rachel took at Lobby, which pleased her greatly. And he helped her enter all her contacts and numbers, although he’d arched an eyebrow when she explained that he needed to enter the name “Dante Alighieri” in conjunction with his own number. He’d also stubbornly insisted on choosing his own ring tone.
Julia’s primary birthday gift was a series of digital copies of Gabriel’s Botticelli prints. He had them mounted in a special book with her name engraved in gold letters on the cover. Even though they were only copies, the collection was priceless. And he had handwritten a dedication on the flyleaf in his elegant script:
To my Darling Julianne,
Happy Birthday.
May each year be better than the last
and may you always have happiness.
With enduring affection,
Gabriel
She fingered his inscription, tracing the curls of the capital G. The illustrations were, without doubt, the finest gift she had ever received.
In addition, Gabriel had given her a small photo album of black-and-white pictures. In some of them, her identity was recognizable. In the rest, the subject was only a glimpse of a face, or a lock of hair against a long, white neck or a laughing girl with her eyes closed. She felt beautiful when Gabriel kissed her and when he touched her. But viewing these photographs made her feel as if Gabriel saw her beauty. He saw and captured it, recording it forever.
Some of the pictures were sexy, some were innocent, and some were sweet. None of them were embarrassing or the kind of photo that would humiliate her if they were sent to her father or posted on the internet. Her favorite was one in which she stood in profile while a hand with long white fingers held up her hair, a man’s face in shadow pressing his lips to the nape of her neck. She could have blown that photo up to poster size and tacked it to the wall over her bed, the Holiday painting be damned.
Take that, simple Simon.
***
“Why are you calling? Is something wrong? Did you do something to Julia? I swear to God, Gabriel, if you—”
Gabriel held his iPhone away from his ear as his sister expertly berated him. “I didn’t do anything to Julia,” he interrupted. “Her ex-boyfriend called her on Saturday, and she went to pieces. I’d like some answers.”
“Holy shit. Is she okay?”
“She was very upset. But she won’t tell me much.”
“Of course not. Why would she talk about it with her professor?”
Gabriel bristled. “We were discussing Thanksgiving and making plans for the trip when that motherfucker interrupted us.”
“A bit angry there, Gabriel. Why do you care?”
“Because that bastard, whoever he is, sweet talked her father into divulging her unlisted cell phone number so that he could harass her.”
“Shit,” said Rachel.
“Quite,” said Gabriel. “So before I bring her back to Selinsgrove, where he might possibly pay her a visit, I’d like to know who I’m dealing with.”
His sister was silent.
“Rachel? I’m waiting.”
“I don’t know what you’re expecting me to tell you. This is Julia’s past. You need to ask her.”
“I told you, she won’t talk about it.”
“Can you blame her? If you know that he’s a motherfucker, then you know why she doesn’t want to talk about him. She won’t even say his name out loud—she’s that skittish.” Rachel paused for a minute and took a deep breath. “Simon’s father is Senator John Talbot.”
Gabriel blinked in recognition. “And?”
“Julia met Simon when they were freshmen. He swept her off her feet in the beginning, but I got the impression that he could be difficult. She went to Florence her junior year, and when she came back, they broke up. I didn’t see her again until I came to visit you. Aaron hated Simon, so I didn’t spend a lot of time around them.”
Gabriel fumed. “You didn’t answer my question. What kind of difficulties are we talking about? Assault? Infidelity? Emotional abuse?”
“Honestly, I don’t know everything. I pieced together a few things from a conversation I had with Natalie, Julia’s old roommate. Simon was an arrogant jerk who liked to have Julia on his arm. It’s obvious he crushed her spirit. I think we can imagine the rest.”
“He said that Julia is disturbed. That she needs professional help.”
“The guy is a lying bastard, Gabriel. What did you expect him to say?” Rachel exhaled her frustration. “Julia’s biggest problem is him. If you want to help her, you should try to make her life easier and not harder. I hope you aren’t intimid
ating her anymore with your pretentious bullshit. She had enough of that with him.”
“Actually, we’re getting along quite well.” He sniffed.
“As well as in the pictures I e-mailed to you?” Rachel giggled wickedly.
“We have a professional relationship.”
“You might be fooling everyone else, but you can’t fool me. Julia broke down and told me she had a date with someone Saturday night, and coincidentally, you’re with her on Saturday when Simon calls. So tell me, Gabriel, did you see Julia after her date or before? And how was it?”
“We’ll arrive in Selinsgrove on Thursday. I’ll bring Julia to the house.” Gabriel’s voice was cold.
“Good. I think she needs to tell her dad that she wants to stay with us. If Simon comes to town, he won’t look for her there. And Gabriel, thanks for what you did about the house. Dad is so relieved. I think we all are, Scott included.”
“It was the least I could do. Bye, Rachel.”
“If you hurt her, I’ll kill you. Now go cheer her up and be gentle. Otherwise you’ll never coax her out of her shell. Love you.”
“I—bye.” Gabriel ended the call somewhat uncomfortably and returned to the task of preparing next week’s Dante seminar.
***
With the impending end of term, Julia’s workload increased exponentially. In addition to writing her thesis, she needed to complete essays for her seminars, which were due December fourth. On top of everything, she was working on applications to graduate schools for doctoral programs.
She and Gabriel had a vague conversation late one night about her applications. He knew that she wanted to go to Harvard and that she was focusing a great deal of her attention on that application. What he didn’t know was that the thought of leaving Toronto, of leaving him, was almost unbearable, and so unbeknownst to him, she completed an application to the University of Toronto, as well.
While Julia was spending most of her days and all of her nights working, Gabriel was wading through a sea of grading and writing his second book. He preferred to spend his evenings with Julia, even if they were both busy, and sometimes he was able to persuade her to work at his apartment. He would occupy his study, and she would spread her papers across the dining room table. But she usually didn’t stay at the table very long. Somehow she would always end up in his red velvet chair in front of the fire, chewing the end of a pencil and scribbling something into a notebook.
After seeing each other rarely, it was with much relief that the couple dragged their luggage from Gabriel’s apartment to a waiting cab on the day they left for Thanksgiving vacation. As they watched the taxi driver place their bags in the trunk, Julia looked up and saw the autumn wind blowing Gabriel’s hair, swirling the strands into his eyes. Without thinking, she reached up and brushed the hair out of his face and pressed her lips to his. She stroked his face tenderly, trying to tell him with her eyes what she was too afraid to say.
Gabriel stared back at her, eyes burning, and grabbed her by the waist. He pulled her into his chest, deepening the kiss and exploring her lower back through her peacoat. She pulled away first, giggling like a schoolgirl as he surreptitiously patted her backside with a smug grin.
“Still trying to find the right adjective,” he teased, sneaking in a final tap. “Although pert comes to mind.”
“Behave,” she warned, toying with his hair again.
“I need to get this out of my system,” he countered, wiggling his eyebrows at her. “I’m going to have to go cold turkey for three days.”
***
Arriving at Pearson Airport, Julia was surprised when Gabriel pulled her into the exclusive line for executive and first class passengers at the Air Canada counter.
“What are we doing?” she whispered.
“Checking in,” he whispered back, his lips curling up into a smirk.
“But I only had money for a coach ticket.”
He caressed her cheek with his thumb. “I want you to be comfortable. Besides, the last time I flew coach I ended up sitting in urine, and it cost me a pair of expensive trousers.”
Julia arched an eyebrow at him.
“I had enough frequent flyer miles for an upgrade, so I bought coach tickets and upgraded them. Technically, you only owe me for the coach fare. Not that I want your money.”
Julia gazed at him quizzically. “Urine, Gabriel? I didn’t know that Air Canada had a section for the incontinent.”
He waved a hand. “Don’t ask. But it’s not happening to me again. Besides, they’ll at least provide us with drinks and something more substantial than pretzels.” He kissed her softly, and she smiled.
The flight to Philadelphia was largely uneventful. After disengaging the phone utility, Gabriel continued his tutoring sessions on iPhone 101, showing Julia various applications on his phone and asking her if she wanted the same ones. As she perused his programs, she found the iPod function and scrolled through his music files—Mozart, Chopin, Berlioz, Rachmaninoff, Beethoven, Matthew Barber, Sting, Diana Krall, Loreena McKennitt, Coldplay, U2, Miles Davis, Arcade Fire, Nine Inch Nails…
Julia hit a button by mistake and found herself looking at Gabriel’s university e-mail account. She glanced at it quickly as she tried to switch to the photo album application, and was stunned to discover that both Professor Singer and a Paulina Grushcheva had e-mailed him in the past week. She resisted the urge to read his e-mails and closed the application. Gabriel was peering through his glasses at a journal article, oblivious to what had just occurred.
Why are they e-mailing him? The answer was obvious, but it didn’t prevent her from asking herself the question. She nibbled on one of her fingernails distractedly.
Gabriel had uploaded several of the black-and-white photos of her, including some she hadn’t seen before. As she scrolled through them, he somehow became aware of what she was doing. Embarrassed, he tried to wrest his phone out of her hand, but she held it fast and began to laugh. Not wanting to give their fellow passengers a show, he moved closer and threatened in a whisper to kiss her senseless.
She gave him back his phone.
Julia snuggled up at Gabriel’s side while he put his research away and pulled out a hard-covered volume from his briefcase.
“What’s that?” Her soft voice interrupted his thoughts.
He showed her the cover. The End of the Affair by Graham Greene.
“Is it good?”
“I just started it. He’s considered to be a very good writer. He wrote the script for The Third Man, which is one of my favorite films.”
“The title is depressing.”
“It’s not what you think.” He shifted in his seat. “Well, it is, but it isn’t. It’s about faith and God and lust…I’ll lend it to you when I’m finished.” He smirked at her and leaned closer so that he could brush his lips against her ear. “Perhaps I’ll read it aloud to you when we’re in bed together.”
Julia’s cheeks pinked up at that remark, but she smiled. “I’d like that.”
He pressed a light kiss to her forehead. She snuggled into his side and relaxed. He found himself peering down at her from time to time over the rims of his glasses.
He found it difficult to put into words how he felt when she was near him. How content he felt whenever she touched him, or when they were enjoying the simple pleasures of music or literature or food and wine. She inspired the strangest emotions and desires, such as wanting to read to her, to chastely share a bed with her, to lavish her with gifts both decadent and plain, to protect her from harm, and to ensure that she smiled daily.
Perhaps this is happiness, he thought. Perhaps this is almost what Richard and Grace had. The thought intrigued him.
You love her.
Gabriel started suddenly. Where had that voice come from? Had someone said it aloud? He looked around quickly, but the other first class passengers were either napping or otherwise engaged. No one was paying any attention to the nervous professor or the beauty who dozed next to him.
>
It’s too soon. It’s just not possible. I can’t love her. Gabriel shook his head at the voice, wherever it came from, and returned to his book more than a little disquieted.
After arriving in Philadelphia, Gabriel pulled his rented Jeep Grand Cherokee out of the airport’s parking garage.
“Which hotel did you choose?” Julia asked, staring out of the window into the darkness.
“The Four Seasons. Do you know it?”
“I know where it is, but I’ve never stayed there.”
“It’s very nice. You’ll like it.”
What Gabriel failed to mention was that he had booked a suite that had a panoramic view of Logan Circle. He also neglected to tell Julia that their room had a beautiful marble bathroom with an exquisite bathtub. Julia noticed the bathtub before she noticed the view. Not to mention the complimentary fruit basket the manager always provided for his most important guests.
“Gabriel,” she breathed. “It’s beautiful. I’d love to take a bubble bath but…”
He smiled at her and gently took her elbow, leading her inside the bathroom.
“You will have complete privacy, and your companion will behave like a gentleman.” He paused and a wicked gleam came into his eyes. “Unless you need me to wash your back. In which case, you’ll have to blindfold me first.”
Julia grinned. “We could use one of your bow ties,” she whispered.
Gabriel’s mouth dropped open. Then she started laughing, and he realized that she was only teasing him. Minx.
As he watched her remove her purple robe and slippers from her suitcase, he quickly realized that there was no way he was going to be able to sit in the living room of the suite while Julianne took a bubble bath. It was a bit too King David for him. So he mumbled an excuse about finding a newspaper and went to the lobby. He decided against sitting at the bar, populated as it was by various hungry-looking women, and instead enjoyed a glass of wine and a sandwich while sitting in an arm chair in a quiet corner. He picked up a copy of The Philadelphia Inquirer and spent the next hour dodging the aforementioned women, trying valiantly not to dwell on the beautiful body of the Bathsheba bathing upstairs.
Gabriel's Inferno Trilogy Page 44