Once Upon a Friendship

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Once Upon a Friendship Page 12

by Tara Taylor Quinn


  “How about you? You feel like Chinese?”

  She didn’t feel like food at all. Or being alone with him, either. Especially not tonight. “Sure. The usual.”

  She’d said the words before. More times than she could count. Tonight they sounded intimate. Because tonight Marie wasn’t included. And when she found out that Gabrielle had had dinner alone with Liam, in his apartment, her fears would grow again.

  But aside from her bizarre reactions to Liam’s manhood lately, there’d been another major change in Gabrielle’s relationship with Liam. She was his legal counsel. And tonight she had news that she had to tell him without Marie present due to attorney-client privilege.

  He told her he’d be home in twenty and hung up. While Gabrielle stood at the window, worried by her earlier jealousy at the thought of him being out with someone else.

  This had to stop.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “THE GATE OUT in front of your father’s house was splattered with eggs this morning,” Gabrielle told him as soon as he opened his door to her that evening. He’d just set the table with plates and silverware. The cartons of Chinese weren’t even opened yet.

  “I’m assuming he called the police.” He’d shed his suit coat, and now loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt.

  Setting her briefcase on the chair that Marie had used the night before, she started dishing up their dinner. “He’s hired a security firm to watch the place twenty-four-seven and a member of that firm called it in.”

  “He’s got security cameras. It shouldn’t take them long to find the culprit.” Liam came from the kitchen with iced tea.

  “They’ve already got the guy.”

  “Any chance he confessed to spray painting my car? I got it back today, by the way, had it delivered to the courthouse, and it looks good as new.” He waited for her to sit and then joined her.

  “No, he says he didn’t spray paint your car. His beef is clearly with your father. He’s twelve and lives down the street and says that his dad gave your dad a lot of money and now they have to move. And I’m glad you got your car back.”

  She was eating only little nibbles from the end of her fork. She’d said she had stuff to bring him. He assumed that whatever it was was in the briefcase. And based on her seeming inability to look him in the eye, it wasn’t good.

  He didn’t call her on it, though. Dinner was good. Eating it alone with her was...nice. Just having her there made the day better. He’d feel guilty for being glad that Marie wasn’t with them when he allowed himself to think at all. Right then, he didn’t want to spoil the moment.

  * * *

  GABI WASN’T SURE how to tell him. After dinner, for sure. No reason to spoil his appetite as well as her own. And then, before the table was even cleared, Marie called.

  Sam, one of her full-time employees, had called her just as she and Burton had been sitting down to a preshow dinner.

  Sometime in the past hour, someone had left an envelope for Liam on the counter at the coffee shop. Sam had found it in the far corner, with a napkin holder half on top of it. Marie was on her way back to the shop.

  Liam called the police, who told him not to open the envelope or even touch it again until they arrived. As he and Gabrielle waited for the elevator, he dialed Elliott Tanner. And by the time the two of them were in the shop, Tanner was there. He asked the remaining two customers to leave and locked the front door. Gabi was getting ready to send Sam home when Marie arrived and by then the police were inside the shop. They spoke with Sam first, and then he left. Marie spoke with Tanner while Gabrielle and Liam talked with the police, a different pair than the ones who’d answered the spray-painted-car call. And then everyone spoke in one group. The officers didn’t think there was anything dangerous about opening the envelope, but in light of recent events, suggested that they take it with them and have it opened in the lab. Liam readily agreed.

  A report was made. Liam signed it. And they were gone. Again.

  “Elliott didn’t get here until Liam did tonight, but he said he’s been outside since Liam got home and didn’t see anything suspicious,” Marie told Liam and Gabi.

  Elliott. Gabrielle noticed her friend’s reference to the bodyguard—who was still Tanner to the rest of them. Marie, who’d had bad luck with the men in her life—starting with a deceitful, unfaithful father—had a tendency to size them up before she felt entirely comfortable.

  “The shop was open,” Tanner said, looking like a businessman in black pants and a dress shirt, as he stood behind Marie. “Customers came and went.”

  “Sam said he didn’t notice the letter until he was wiping up after a rush.”

  “The police didn’t seem all that concerned,” Liam piped up, his voice light. “And it’s not like we’re looking at death by letter here.”

  “I’ll feel better when we know what it says,” Tanner said. But he didn’t sound all that alarmed, either. Liam suggested that the other man go home. Most particularly if he was going to insist on hanging out at the courthouse again the next day.

  Gabrielle had to give the bodyguard credit. He appeared to be taking his job of protecting Liam seriously. For whatever reason.

  He might be looking for dirt on him. She was confident he wasn’t going to find any. And if he kept Liam safe in the meantime...just in case there was someone out there looking to harm him...

  “The police said they’ll be doing extra patrols tonight,” Liam reminded the other man. “And there’s been no indication that I’m in any physical danger.”

  He was right on both counts. Gabrielle was the one who was afraid. For him. Beyond what was called for.

  But then, she wasn’t just worried about his physical safety. There were a lot of ways to hurt a man. She seemed to be feeling any pain that might hit Liam, and there was a hit he didn’t yet know about.

  It took another five minutes of rehashing, but the bodyguard finally left. Burton, who’d apparently been waiting outside and had seen the man leave, popped in to tell Marie that they still had time to make it to the showing of Phantom of the Opera that they’d paid an exorbitant amount of money to see.

  With a long, concerned look at Liam and Gabrielle, she allowed herself to be led out. There was no viable reason for her not to go.

  Gabrielle knew her friend didn’t want to leave her alone with Liam. Marie had her back. And she needed her to. But they couldn’t very well explain that to Burton. Most particularly not in front of Liam.

  Liam was going to go back upstairs. It was the natural thing to do. He’d expect her to follow. Their business had been interrupted.

  She didn’t trust herself to be up there alone with him. Until she knew that whatever was in that envelope addressed to Liam was not unfriendly, she had to assume that it was. That danger might be escalating against him.

  And she was falling for him. Tensions were high. Something could happen to him.

  Before she ever knew what it would feel like to be held by him.

  “Can we sit for a minute?” Her tension must have shown on her face as she blurted the words.

  One glance at Liam’s expression told her that.

  Until the past few weeks he’d been like a brother to her. Always. She’d been immune to his good looks. To his manliness. And now she wasn’t. The irony of that, in light of what she was about to tell him, didn’t escape her.

  He took a seat.

  Gabrielle pulled a thin file out of her briefcase. She placed it in front of him.

  And then sat.

  He didn’t touch the file. “Tell me.”

  She nodded toward the file. “I think you should look at it.” She’d been trying for hours and just couldn’t figure out a way to tell him.

  Her job had always been to pick up the pieces. Not to cause him to shatter.r />
  And she’d never felt the pieces so personally.

  Liam crossed his arms.

  He could also be stubborn and pigheaded. She used to get frustrated sometimes when he did that. Now all she wanted to do was pull him to her. To kiss him until nothing else mattered.

  So she reached into the file without fully opening it. Pulled out a photo.

  Placed it in front of him.

  Gabrielle had been touched by the sheer natural beauty of the teenager smiling up out of that picture. She had Liam’s blond hair, though hers was a shade lighter. His blue eyes, too. But her features were more round. Much softer. He stared. Frowned. Shook his head.

  “Have you ever seen her before?”

  “Of course not. Who is she?”

  “She’s your half sister.” Wow. Never in all of her rehearsed scenarios had she just blurted out the news like that.

  He pushed the photo away. Shook his head again. “There’s been some mistake,” he said. And then, arms on the table, he leaned toward her. “Come on, Gabrielle. You know my entire life history.”

  She couldn’t hold him. So, heart crying inside, she said, “Her name is Tamara Bolin. She’s fourteen. A freshman in high school. She’s on the swim team and has a four point zero GPA.”

  Chin jutting, Liam looked at the picture from the distance he’d given himself from it. His hands, still on the table, were trembling. Gabrielle had the urge to cover them with her own.

  And didn’t feel as out of the world as she had when the urges had first started happening. She couldn’t begin to accept them. To let them feel...normal. She and Liam didn’t touch like that. Not with...that kind of emotion attached...

  “She lives in Florida.” Gabrielle kept talking because she didn’t know what else to do. The empty coffee shop felt suddenly like a morgue with most of the lights off. There was more. A lot of it. He’d ask when he was ready. For the next several minutes Gabrielle sat silently. It was what friends did, she told herself. They sat in the fire with you. Hurt for you.

  “Does she know about me?”

  His question came as a relief. And increased her tension, as well.

  “Yes.”

  “Since when?”

  “She’s always known.”

  “You’ve spoken with her, then?”

  “No.”

  He nodded toward the file. “It’s all in a report? That she knows me?”

  “I spoke to her mother, Liam.”

  He had to have done the math. To know that his father had been unfaithful to his mother during the last months she’d been suffering so horribly with the disease that had ultimately claimed her life.

  The word that softly came out of his mouth was not one he’d be proud of saying. Most particularly in reference to his father. But she didn’t blame him.

  “Who is she?”

  “Someone he’s been in a relationship with for more than fifteen years. He’s been supporting the two of them all along. Until three months ago he was still seeing them.”

  His steely gaze settled on Gabrielle and the skin of her face felt as though it had been touched. “That account I found—it led to this?”

  She nodded. Using every bit of her self-control to keep her tears from falling.

  “Tamara has always thought that you were ashamed of her existence,” Gabrielle said softly. Hoping she could do this right. For two people who hadn’t asked to be born and seemed to carry similar hurts in their hearts where their father was concerned. “She didn’t know until today that you never knew about her.”

  “He never told her he was keeping her a secret.”

  “No. He just told her that she was not to contact you. That she had to wait for you to contact her first. She has a picture of you in the back of her diary.”

  He blinked. His nostrils flared. And he stared at the picture.

  “She wants to meet you, Liam. Her mother, Missy Bolin, said that your father kept business files in the office he used in her home when he visited. She said that you’re welcome to them, too. Apparently she was shocked and hurt when he broke things off with her and now, with the arrest, doesn’t want any of his stuff in her home. She wondered if the files would have something to do with the FBI’s investigation and doesn’t want to get in trouble, but she doesn’t want to just hand them over, either.”

  “Why would he leave files there after he broke up with her?”

  “I don’t know. But I’d sure like to find out. Wouldn’t you?”

  He picked up the picture.

  “It’s not her fault, Liam,” Gabrielle said quietly, leaning toward him, getting as close to a touch as she could allow herself with the strange feelings wrestling inside of her.

  He nodded.

  “Missy said they’re free this coming weekend.”

  He sat silently for another long couple of minutes and then looked up at Gabrielle. “Will you come with me?”

  Her first thought was that Marie wouldn’t be able to get away from the shop on such short notice. She and Liam had never traveled together without her.

  “Of course.” The words that came out of her mouth created all kinds of problems.

  She was too eager to go with him to take the words back.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  LIAM SPENT THE week in court. Just before the noon recess on Friday, the judge, who’d been expected to take the matter under advisement, ruled in favor of the parents of the seventeen-year-old Douglas boy.

  He had deep compassion in his tone as he told the young man that while his convictions were important, the unfortunate truth was that he had a physical ailment that required medication. Liam wasn’t surprised by the ruling. He’d hoped that it wouldn’t come until at least Monday. He and Gabrielle were booked on a flight to Fort Lauderdale at eight o’clock that evening. Now, before packing and preparing to meet the sibling he’d never known existed, he was going to be writing about another teenager’s heartache.

  But even if he didn’t have time to pack properly, he was going to meet Tamara. The thought had been creeping into his thoughts on and off all week. As he’d sat in court, he’d wondered how much she was like the teenagers taking the stand to testify to the character of the boy suing his parents.

  He bade goodbye to his bodyguard via text as he and Gabrielle went through security at the airport. He hadn’t seen Tanner at the airport, but he was getting used to knowing that anytime he was out of his home, he had a shadow.

  Nothing had come of the letter that had been left at Marie’s shop. The threat it conveyed hadn’t been specific—a wish for him to suffer as he and his father had caused others to suffer.

  His father had apparently been getting hate mail on and off for years. Stood to reason that now that Liam was understood to be working at Connelly Investments, he’d inspire some of the same anger.

  Whatever, it wasn’t something he was going to worry about.

  “She’s probably going to think I’m an old fogy,” he told Gabrielle as they stood at their gate at Denver International, waiting to board the plane. He was flying coach for the first time.

  “She knows how old you are.” Crowds were closing in on the door as the time to board grew closer, but they had no need to join in. Gabi had relented and let him pay extra for priority boarding.

  He could still be in the lounge if he wanted to be. He’d never wanted to be.

  For that matter, he could certainly afford to fly first class if he’d wanted to do so. But Gabrielle couldn’t. And she wasn’t allowing him to pay for her flight.

  He was going to, when he paid her bill at the end of the month, but she didn’t know that.

  And cutting corners where he could, financially speaking, wasn’t a bad thing. It had become very clear to him that money didn’t last forever.

&nb
sp; The surprising part about this discovery was that he was really doing just fine. With the financial changes in his life at least.

  He wasn’t so happy about the weird bit of excitement that had accompanied thoughts of this trip all week—aside from that associated with meeting his little sister. No, he’d also been het up about the fact that he was going to be sitting alone with Gabi in the plane. Traveling with her alone.

  They were going to be spending the entire weekend together....

  “Knowing someone’s age and building an image of them in your head are two different things,” he said, forcing himself back on track.

  He was going to have to make sure that he didn’t do something stupid on this trip. Like try to kiss Gabi on the beach under the moonlight. No matter how much the desire to do so was starting to plague him.

  “You’re worried she’s not going to like you?”

  “No.” Of course he was.

  “The only thing I can recommend is...be nice to her mother.”

  To date, Liam had refused to speak with the woman, leaving Gabrielle to make all of their travel arrangements, down to the two rooms in the medium-priced hotel she’d booked for them not far from Tamara and Missy’s modest beach cottage.

  He didn’t reply now.

  “Whatever else she might be, whatever choices she’s made, she’s been a good mother to your half sister,” Gabrielle said, her tone reminding him of sitting in that beanbag in her college dorm, confessing his sins.

  “Besides, you don’t know her story. Maybe she didn’t know he was married when their affair started. Maybe she didn’t know until after she was pregnant and she found out he couldn’t marry her.”

  He turned his head, trying to read those silvery-blue eyes that hid so many things. Things he was finding himself more and more curious about.

  “Is that what she told you?”

  “I didn’t ask.”

  “But she told you.”

  Gabrielle cocked her head. “Maybe. In a roundabout way.”

  The woman was maddening. He was paying her. She was representing him. Not Missy—probably short for Melissa—Bolin.

 

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