“So he ranted at me for not taking the offer…” I told her.
She shrugged, “He’s not rich enough I guess.”
“He’s greedy. Always has been. Then again so am I at times.”
She used her finger to guide where to cut but pulled back to slice. Still makes me nervous, “You aren’t even close to the man you were when we met.”
I bounced Willow on my lap while she colored on the table. Looked more like Picasso on crack. “And my mother called…” I added.
She washed another tomato. “And…?”
“And she wanted to meet little William…that’s what she said on the voicemail.”
She tilted her head, “Who is William?”
“She’s talking about Willow…”
“It’s been two years…”
I buried my face in Willow’s curls. “I know you’ll give me some long line of forgiveness and starting over, but-.”
“Nope, I was going to say change your number.”
I bugged my eyes, “Thank God, because I blocked her. Father is bad enough.”
“He said he wanted to meet her…” she reminded.
I looked down at Willow’s chubby hands tight around the fat crayon she was using. “It’s a publicity stunt Bri. No. She has plenty of Grandparents.”
“Okay. Can’t say I don’t understand.” She dropped the extra tomato, “Shoot.” She sank to her knees to feel around and I tilted my head to see the hem of the genius hoodie-dress go up. “Gabe… I can feel you looking.”
“Nope,” I leaned some more, “It’s further right…”
She felt around in that direction and tucked hair behind her ear, “Where?”
“Further…” Now it was up enough that I could see the underside of her ass cheeks. “Further…”
She figured it out and sat up straight. “You are seriously disturbed!”
“Apple!” yelled Willow. She wiggled off my lap and went to get the tomato. “It’s a a-a-apple!” She said again before taking a bite.
“No, no, no,” Brianna and I said in unison.
I got to her in time for the reaction which was her spitting out the mouthful of tomato into my hand. There’s a time I would have gagged severely but my daughter’s spit has no effect.
Brianna laughed and wiped Willow’s mouth while I got the floor.
Our daughter toddled off after the living room when the opening song of her favorite show came on and I stood up with the little bit of mess. “She gets the blunt disobedience from you…” I said as Brianna went back to slicing.
“Um, no,” she argued. I heard her cut, “Damn it!” she hissed.
I looked to see she missed the tomato and cut into her index finger. “Shit,” I said getting the towel and wrapping it. “It’s deep.”
“I’m fine.”
“Bri, you’re bleeding. We’ll wrap this then I’ll cut.”
“No.” she got bitchy on me. “Fuck off, Gabe. It’s a cut, not a stabbing. I’m not Willow….”
“Ah,” I rested my hip into the counter, “We’re having a feisty independence day, are we? Where you fight to prove you can do everything.” She brought up the middle finger but I moved her hand in my direction. “I’m over here.”
“Go play with your daughter and get out of my hair.”
“If you had dinner with me like agreed then this wouldn’t have happened.”
She turned on the stove and felt up my chest before pressing her palm to my face to push me away. I laughed but didn’t budge.
“Maybe I should pretend to be Gavin again. Would that help?”
She shook her head.
“What was it you told me before I kissed you? That first time? Oh, right, that I had great lips and you were jealous. So I said try them on,” I touched her chin and she went stiff. I let my thumb press over her lips.
She let me touch her. That made my groin tighten. I want to be allowed to touch her when I want, how I want and where I want.
“Gabe…” she said against my thumb. “Think of Willow,” she took my wrist. “You and me, we do better than anyone at working together. So when we have dinner it should be here. With Willow. Not…out…”
I brushed her cheek and stepped back. “So I have another trip coming up.” I changed the subject. It hurts to think she’s still reluctant to trust me as a lover. As a father, she knows I’ll be constant but for her...
“Already?” she asked as I got a Band-Aid out of the hutch.
“Israel. I have to see if I can get this one tech genius hired. Come with me.” I said putting the Band-Aid on her. She fidgets worse than Willow.
“That means a plane.” She melted butter in a pan then put in some onions. “I would have to fly over New York…”
“I know… I would be with you.”
“But that’s what happened to my parents. I don’t want that to happen to Willow. Both parents take a plane and don’t come back…”
I decided to push boundaries and slipped my arms around her waist. “We’ll take the jet. It’s private…safe…”
She shook her head, “No, I really don’t want to. I don’t even like it when you leave us but we’ll be here when you get back.”
I kissed the side of her head, “I understand…”
Israel
One Week Later
I left the hotel where Mr. Doron was supposed to meet me. He’s a very intelligent crafter of electronics and having him on board with my company would be a catch and a half but he’s only nineteen and has no conception of time.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Gilmore,” said his assistant Reuven. “He’s young yet. Easily distracted.”
Reuven looks to be at least five to ten years my senior.
I put on my shades as we walked out into the sun and felt my jaw tick. I want to be home. “I intend to be back in the states by day after tomorrow. If he doesn’t meet me by then, I may have to-.”
“Oh, no, no Sir, he’ll be at the tracks I have no doubt. He’s very interested in fast cars. If he’s not designing, he’s there.”
I sighed as we reached my car. We both got in and he directed me. On the outside of the city is mostly dessert but over the horizon, I could see the fencing of a track and the extremely high bleachers. The closer we came I was able to see the colorful cars whirling and the sound of revving engines.
We got out and Reuven led me to the inside of the small arena. There were only a few people gathered. “It’s but a demonstration,” Reuven explained. “He comes to see the cars before placing bets.”
I slammed my car door and followed the man inside. I spotted Doron right away, in an oversized t-shirt and khaki shorts. He’s very thin and his bronzed skin looks even darker under the sun. He’s calling after one of the cars in his home language.
“Mr. Doron!” Reuven called over the noise as we took the stairs to his spot. “Mr. Doron!”
“Hey!” He called back. What brings you out here? You hate the races.” Then he saw me. “Oh, shit.” He covered his head and winced. “I forgot. Today was the meeting, yes?”
I kept a stern face but nodded, “Long trip from California to Tel Aviv, Mr. Doron.”
“Yes! I am so deeply sorry. My apologies.” He couldn’t even keep his eyes off the track long to talk to me, “We could talk here, no? You can tell me the offer and we’ll discuss it.”
I looked to Reuven and he fumbled for an answer. “Mr. Doron, It’s a bit loud here for a meeting…” he suggested.
Doron looked to the track as the cars zipped by then back at me with wide eyes, “Do forgive me, Mr. Gilmore but my sister’s best friend is test driving. Mind if I just finish this one race? We can talk directly after?”
I didn’t answer I just went up beside him and leaned over the rail to look out. He was instantly pleased while I was inwardly boiling.
“I am putting money on the dark one there,” Doron explained. “Number eight. It’s a fast model but my friend can drive, can’t she?”
The car took turns
well by the driver’s hand and she knew just when to excel to take the lead. “Yeah, she’s good.” I agreed.
We watched for two more laps and then all the drivers ripped through the dirt to an abrupt stop. Doron’s friend pulled in first place and plunged the car into a side stop for flare, I think. Anxious to get started I stood straight. She opened the door and when she got out my brows flew upward.
Israeli women are gorgeous. It’s not a new fact for me but his friend is edgy and exotic. Long dark hair falling in spirals down her back and a perfect figure. Long legs… her black pantsuit hugged every curve. She waved at Doron. “That good for you?” she yelled up while shielding her eyes.
“Perfection!” He called back with a jump. “Come up here, come meet my work friend!”
I clenched my jaw. Work friend is far from accurate right now. “I’m knackered from the trip, Doron,” I opened up, “I think I’ll turn back to the hotel.”
“No, no, no, stay! You have to meet my friend. Then we talk.”
Reuven looked as annoyed as I felt.
The woman from the race came up in time to get me to stay. She was Middle Eastern beauty at its best. Her intelligent brown eyes alone made the deal. “Hello, gentleman.” She said in a thick accent.
“Mr. Gilmore,” Doron gestured at her. “This is my close friend, Zivah Weizman.”
I shook hands with her and smiled. She smiled back. “You come from America, yeah?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“I have cousin there. She is big dancer. Are you here for holiday?”
“No, just business. With your friend.”
Doron hugged her then hung his arm around her shoulders. He’s a head shorter than she is, “Idea!” He said full of excitement. “We go out tonight! We talk then! There’s a new bar open just in the main square.”
Zivah looked intrigued, “Yes! My daughter is with her grandmother. Let’s do it.”
I struggled on so many levels. I don’t go to bars anymore but I need Doron. I also will admit Zivah is a factor. “Why not,” I shrugged.
Doron shook my hand and kissed Zivah’s cheek before leaving with her. She looked back at me with a smirk and I did some heavy debating. “They together?” I asked Reuven.”
“No, only close. I am so sorry about all this. He just turned nineteen this winter you understand? He’s been legal drinking age for only a little while, so he tends to enjoy the life that comes with it.”
I put my hands in my pockets and strolled back to the car with Reuven. Yes, if anyone understands I do. Legal drinking age is when I spiraled. I started making big money like Doron and it all got to my head.
Later that evening I made my way to the bar Doron spoke of. It was all dark lights and purple inside. Loud club music with Middle Eastern tweaking blasted me on all sides and I felt completely out of place.
“Mr. Gilmore!” Someone said over the noise. I looked up and saw Zivah sitting at the bar. I made my way to her but slowed up as I went. She’s dressed for killing. Her dress is a bodysuit with a sheer violet wrapping and the high strappy heels scream for male attention.
“You are here for Doron?” she said over the music. I nodded. She smiled, “He’s difficult to communicate with. You need…what do you say…?”
“Patience.”
She narrowed one eye and brought her drink to her lips. “I think he is too young for all this. Is too much.”
“I was his age when things started happening for me. I learned fast.”
She set her drink down and turned to me with crossed legs, “You are British. Aren’t you born with sticks up your asses?”
We laughed and I nodded, “Can’t fight that. We’re more fun than you think, though.”
“Yes?” she snapped her fingers at the bartender and looked to me, “What’s your drink of choice, Mr. Gilmore?”
I already crossed a line coming in here tonight. Tony has been my support with letting the drinks go and his biggest advice was not to put myself in a corner.
“None for me, thanks.” I pushed the coaster near my elbow around.
She eyed me. “Nothing? You’re sure?”
I looked at her drink and tossed around how awful one drink could be. Just one but then my skin crawled. “I’m fine.”
She waved him off with a flick of her wrist then watched me, “You must be married.”
“No.” I sat back in the stool. “Why?”
“Only married men turn down drinks from pretty women. Happily married ones.”
I shook my head, “No, I’m not married.”
“You have a girl?”
I paused mid head shake. “It’s complicated.”
She drank more but watched me over her glass, “I think you are a face I know…”
I pointed behind her at a flat screen mounted on the wall with only subtitles. It was some entertainment news kind of show and they had footage of me landing in Israel.
She turned back to look then back at me. “Yes! This is it. You are the… what’s it called? Thousands man?”
“Millionaire,” I smiled at her English.
“Right!” She sat back to look at me. “Funny I did not know before. You are very handsome man. I have a crash on you.”
I laughed, “Crush,” I corrected.
She laughed at herself. “Here,” she pulled a little white square napkin from a pile, “Sign for me. Say ‘to Zivah, with all these x’s and o’s.”
I pulled a pen. I wrote my name and her message and she took it and pressed it to her chest, “Ah!” she squeaked, “My cousin in America. She say to me, that she loves you. I want one more for her.”
I took out another napkin and readied my pen. “Who is this one too, Love?”
“To Chloe…”
A bell rang in my head. “Chloe Gianopoulos?” I asked.
She widened her eyes, “Yes you know her?”
“She’s my…my daughter’s mother’s best friend.”
“Small world, no? So she does not need this. You actually see her?”
I laughed, “Often. She’s my daughter’s aunt.”
“Little Brianna? I know her! She is blind, no? Very pretty red hair.”
“That’s her.”
She frowned, “You are not with her?”
I sat forward, “No, we just…we raise our daughter together.”
“Do you actually pay your child support?” she narrowed her eyes. “I have ex. He does not even see his daughter. I have to bribe to get him to come. Then, he see her. Only five minutes…and wants to go. I say he needs to go on.”
“Brianna doesn’t ask for child support. We co-parent. Split almost everything.”
She took another drink. “This is strange to me. You don’t see your daughter?”
“Yes, I live with them.”
Her brows went up, “Never have I heard of this. If my ex and I try to do this we would probably be in prison. We don’t like each other. Only enough to make a baby you know what I mean. He was a good lover, but so irresponsible. No job. Beautiful but no direction.”
I smiled, “You sound like you’re parent enough for her.”
“I am,” she told me. “That girl, she is my heart. So bright. Gets it from me. A dancer too. I was in the ballet she is now doing the same.”
“Then you don’t need him.”
She gave me a look. “No. I don’t.” Then she sat forward with me. “Have one drink with me.” She touched my knee and a shock went to my dick.
I opened my mouth to say no, but she’s very beautiful and easy to speak with. I actually formed the word yes when my phone vibrated.
Chapter Thirty
GABRIEL
I looked down at my phone and saw it was Brianna. “I have to take this. I’ll be right back.” I told Zivah.
She nodded.
I walked out the side of the club where it was quiet and sat on the steps. Most people are going in from the front so I’m alone. I saw it was a FaceTime call and smiled before answering.
/> “Hello!” Brianna waved.
I laughed since they were both in my home office sitting in my chair. I had a mount for my iPad so she could do this without having to angle it. I have a great view of both of them. Chloe stuck her head in, “Hi Gabby! I dialed for Bri but now I’m going to bed. Kisses!” she called.
I waved, “Goodnight, Chloe.”
Brianna was looking past the iPad but smiled, “We’re having a girly sleepover with Aunt Chloe while you’re gone.”
“There goes the house.” I teased.
She laughed and then Willow’s head took up the screen, “Daddy!” she called.
“Hello, Love,” I felt so good seeing them. The pressure of being in the bar evaporated and the consideration of a drink with it. “Are you all ready for bed?” I asked her. She blew me a kiss in response. Loud smacking noises filling my ears and exploding my heart. Her thick fingers, her full lips…“Thank you,” I said, “I feel all of those.”
“Daddy!” she poked the screen, “Apple!”
“You had an apple?” She nodded vigorously. “That’s exciting then isn’t it?”
Brianna fingered our daughter’s curls. “We also ate carrots today, daddy.” Said Bri.
I made a shocked expression. “That explains the hair you both have.”
“Shut up.” She laughed and pulled at her own hair.
“Just joshing. You look beautiful, you always do.”
She paused and I let myself look at her. I want her. I always do, but right now, when I’m away like this…
“How is Israel?” she changed topics.
“Taking too long. I miss you all but I did meet Chloe’s cousin.”
She lit up while Willow squirmed on her lap. “Zivah? I love her, isn’t she great?”
“She’s very nice.”
“Daddy!” Willow’s big blue eyes and round cheeks filled the screen before she kissed it.
“Oh, I truly felt that one,” I said. Brianna smiled but I cleared my throat. “Where is mommy’s kiss?”
She shifted Willow, “Don’t or I’ll shut you off.”
“It’s only fair; Willow did it.”
The Co-Parent (The Relationship Quo Series Book 3) Page 29