Never Enough

by Lauren Dane

  “Fearless woman,” Elise said.

  “Fierce,” Adrian corrected, noting how Erin stayed behind her when Gillian went up onto the stage.

  And then she fell into the song and he fell into her performance of PJ Harvey’s “Long Snake Moan.”

  “Holy shit.” Ben leaned forward as they sang and it became totally obvious what a fucking kick-ass singer Gillian was.

  And he had no idea.

  Why had she not told him about this?

  The piano was one thing, but she could clearly sing circles around a really difficult song. Enough that he could see she had received formal training. Probably at Juilliard.

  He was impressed and proud, and at the same time, that he didn’t know stuck in his craw, agitating him.

  She didn’t work the stage like Erin would have. Didn’t dance around or act sexy. She simply owned her spot and that song as he sat there struck dumb by it all.

  When the song was over she handed the mic off hastily and beat it offstage with Erin chattering at her excitedly.

  The group cheered her and she blushed, but there was no hiding the big smile she wore. And he felt like an asshole, but the fact that he hadn’t known she could sing only emphasized how much he didn’t know about her. And how he couldn’t unless she stopped holding back.

  Still smiling, she turned to him, holding out the sunglasses. “You can wear them if you’d like. It’s your turn. I think you should sing something like . . . Are you all right?”

  “I just had no idea you could sing like that.”

  Her open, happy smile faded at his words. “Well, now you do.” Still, she made an effort to keep it light even though she’d shuttered her gaze.

  “Why didn’t I? I mean, that’s professional training.” And even as he said it, he wanted to rip the words back. All he craved was to know her and he was fucking it up because he was caught off guard.

  She looked from side to side, clearly embarrassed. Erin’s brows flew up as she looked his way.

  “Why didn’t you what? Know I went to a performing arts school like we’ve discussed a time or two? The one whose diploma is on the wall of my office where you work a few days a week?”

  “You’re up, Adrian. Why don’t you go on and choose a song?” Elise poked him in the middle of his back, extra hard.

  “I just don’t get why. English, all these months and you have a seriously rocking voice.”

  She licked her lips and got up. He’d hurt her, he saw that. His own lack of control had blown up in her face and she’d been embarrassed in front of others.

  “I’m sorry you didn’t know I could sing. Sorry to have upset you.” She licked her lips, nervous, her voice very soft. “I believe I’m off home.” She clutched her coat and her purse and looked to everyone else. “Thanks for letting me join you all tonight.” And she headed for the door without fighting with him like she usually did.

  Brody shoved him so hard he fell from the booth. “Go after her, you fucking idiot! What the hell is wrong with you?”

  He didn’t know. It had been a stupid, knee-jerk thing and he’d really fucked up. He scrambled to his feet, with the help of Ben, who pushed Adrian toward the exit.

  She’d disappeared in the crowd so he headed toward the doors, hoping to cut her off. Her legs were short anyway. He’d catch up and throw himself on her mercy for acting like a dick.

  He’d embarrassed her in public, something she hated and he knew it. Guessed some of the reasons why based on what she had told him. Revealed to him when he knew it hurt her to let anyone know what she’d endured and he made her feel like crap.

  When she didn’t stand her ground to fight with him, he’d known he’d overreacted and he’d tell her so.

  He caught sight of her as she pushed her way out the door, through the crush of people. Suddenly, Brody was at his back, as were the others, everyone yelling her name.

  And shit, he saw Larry Harold, a local journalist who’d clashed with Adrian in the past. The man hated Adrian and set about digging up dirt on him every time he could. Watched him catch sight of Gillian and smile, heading her way.

  “Isn’t that that reporter asshole?” Brody asked, pushing forward to get free of the doorway.

  “Yes.”

  Shame flooded through her. She’d been so happy, she’d opened up with his family like he’d wanted her to and she’d enjoyed it. But his reaction had been a slap and she struggled to process the why of it.

  He’d been sulky about how slow she’d been to reveal her past, but he’d never been deliberately hurtful except for in the very beginning when he didn’t know her. And tonight he’d looked at her with the same suspicious eyes he had back when they’d met.

  She wanted to throw up. Wanted to cry. Needed very badly to go to Jules or Mary and they’d fix her. More than anything though, she just wanted to be anywhere but there.

  “Gillian!”

  She heard Adrian calling her name but all she wanted was to get away. There was a bigger intersection up ahead and she could call for a cab and make the ferry.

  “Gillian? Ms. Forrester?”

  That was a different voice. She finally won free of all the people and ended up passing by a man she’d never seen before but who clearly knew her.

  She continued walking but he grabbed her arm, halting her progress.

  “My name is Larry Harold. I’m a journalist—”

  She pulled free and sent him a look that he clearly understood the violence in because he stepped back a little.

  “That’s really all I need to hear. I have no comment.”

  “But I think you might once you hear me out.”

  She shoved her arms into her coat and slung her bag crosswise over her body. Ready to do some battle with this idjit.

  “Is that so? And why would you think that?”

  “How does Adrian feel knowing he’s cozied up to the daughter of a pedophile and a murderer to boot?”

  Sickness hit like a physical blow. She should have told him. Should have told him and now it would hurt him.

  “That’s none of your business. I’ve got nothing to say to you.” She started to walk past as the thudding of footfalls she knew belonged not just to Adrian but most likely the entire group reached where she stood.

  “Get the fuck away from her, Harold.” Adrian shoved between them.

  And it was like a movie instead of her life as the reporter turned to Adrian and began to speak through his smirk. Gillian knew it was coming, and if she’d had a clear shot, she was pretty sure she would have used her handbag to hit that reporter right in the face.

  “I was asking your girlfriend how you felt about her father and if it was an impediment to your helping her with her music career.”

  She had to clench her teeth and breathe through her nose to keep from being sick as it all happened in what felt like slow motion.

  “What about her father?” Adrian asked.

  “It has nothing to do with him. Nothing at all.” Gillian said it but knew it was fruitless. It was true, but it didn’t matter.

  “Oh yeah? So it’s true then? You’re producing this movie she scored? The director is trying to sell it using your name as a reference. Saying Gillian told him you were backing it.”

  “What? I never said anything like that. I haven’t even spoken to Mel in well over a decade.” Christ, she’d written that score when she was still in school. As a favor for a friend who was making an independent film. But it never went anywhere and she’d pretty much forgotten about it. Was he really trying to sell it and using Adrian’s name?

  This was a nightmare. His entire family had gathered in a semicircle around the reporter as Adrian kept his body in between her and the reporter. Protecting her when her past was about to rip him apart. Which only made it worse. He was taking care of her, even though they’d fought, even though she knew it would be over in a matter of minutes.

  “So it’s true? You wrote a score you never told me about and are trying to sell it?” A
drian turned his head to speak to her.

  “No! I mean yes, I wrote a score, but—” He put a hand up to silence her.

  “We’ll talk about it later.” He turned back to the journalist. “As you can see, you’re incorrect. Now shove off.”

  “Her father is in prison for drugs and for the murder of a sixteen-year-old girl he was shacked up with. A child killer.”

  Erin had been standing next to Gillian and she froze. Gillian closed her eyes against helpless tears.

  “How do you deal with that, Erin? Your brother’s new squeeze is the daughter of a guy like the one who killed your child. Does it come up at holiday dinners?”

  Gillian turned to Erin. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” she managed to say before she ran off. She ran and ran and then ran some more. Down through Queen Anne until her lungs burned and she managed to grab a taxi to head to the ferry.

  22

  Everyone filed wordlessly into Erin’s place. Adrian felt caught between rage at himself and rage at Gillian.

  “I can’t believe she never told me!” He slammed his palm against the countertop. He’d fallen in love with a woman with some secrets. And those secrets had blown up in her face.

  How long did she think she could get away with not telling him about her father? She had to have known he’d be extra sensitive to that sort of thing after what Erin had endured.

  He began to pace as people settled in.

  “Cope, take Ella home,” Brody said quietly. “Ella needs to rest and not be upset.”

  “I’m not upset! Well, not by what you think I am. I’m not going anywhere.” Ella crossed her arms and Cope sent Brody a look and took the glass of lemon water Ben handed to him for his wife.

  “I need to know about this guy shopping this movie using my name.”

  “Todd’s on it already. He started looking into it on the way back home,” Ben said.

  “She used me. All this time I thought I’d misjudged her but it was all an elaborate ruse. She deliberately didn’t tell me about her father. She knew how I’d react.”

  “All those times I was in her house, all those times we were together and I told her about Adele and she never once mentioned it to me. I’m sick over it.” Erin pressed a hand to her stomach and Ben rubbed a hand up and down her back.

  “Let’s all just take a fucking chill pill.” Brody accepted the water he’d been handed. “This is getting out of hand. Baby girl”—he looked to Erin—“you need to get yourself calmed down.” He touched her cheek. “It tears me up to see you this way and it’s not going to help.”

  “He’s right. I’m sorry Gillian ruined our night. I’m sorry I brought her into our lives like a poison. God, how stupid could I have been?”

  That’s when the water hit his face. Tossed from Brody’s glass.

  “You, boy, sit your ass down right now before I do it for you.”

  Shocked and a little humiliated, Adrian managed to get his butt into a chair as Elise handed him a towel, moving between the two brothers.

  She sent her husband a look. “Brody, you take two steps back before this goes into a direction you didn’t intend. I think we’ve seen enough of that tonight, don’t you?”

  Brody stepped back and took a deep breath.

  Todd came in and looked around. “Do I need to break out the Tasers?”

  That broke the tension a little.

  “What did you find out?” Adrian asked, though he wasn’t sure what he wanted to hear.

  “I didn’t do a lot of looking at her life in England because she was a minor. I knew enough that from what I could see she had no police record or outstanding issues. Her father is some character. Lifetime criminal, looks like. He’s serving a life sentence for the murder of his sixteen-year-old girlfriend. She’d apparently been with him since the age of fourteen.” He shuffled through the papers. “Gillian left England at fifteen, just as she told you. I also surprised this asshole filmmaker with a phone call at home. She wrote the score for him fifteen years ago, he says. He couldn’t sell it so it’s been in his basement. He saw her picture online and saw that she was your girlfriend and so, as he put it, he used it like anyone else would have.”

  “Except Gillian apparently. No.” Brody pointed at Adrian, who’d been about to speak. “I’m talking now. You’ve said enough.”

  Adrian bit back his words.

  “You too,” he said to Erin. “You both rushed to judge her. No, she didn’t tell you about her father in prison. But if you put together what Todd just said, it means she hasn’t seen her father since she was fifteen. Probably longer than that, as he appears to have been shacked up with some girl instead of Gillian’s mother. She came here with that hanging over her. And she made her own future.”

  Adrian heaved out a breath. He’d asked her if her father had ever been in her life and she’d said simply, no.

  “She should have told us. My god, to be confronted with it that way in the street like that.” Erin shook her head. “I trusted her.”

  “You know I love you and I’d do anything for you. But you’re wrong.” Brody leaned against the counter. “How do you go about revealing that story? You tell me, Erin. How does a woman like Gillian begin to share such intimate details when she knows they’ll bring pain?” He turned that perceptive gaze to Adrian. “Hm? How does she tell you her father is a killer? At breakfast between pancakes and bacon? And do you for one second truly believe she held all this back to get your help selling an art house flick she wrote a score for fifteen years ago? Before she knew you? When she did actually entertain a music career as an option? You heard Todd. The guy hasn’t even spoken to her. You overestimate yourself all while underestimating yourself.”

  “What the fuck am I supposed to think? She blindsides me with this amazing voice I never knew she had. There’s a whole lot of I never knew in this relationship.”

  “Oh, boo-hoo. You acted like a total cock and started that entire mess with your reaction. Everything had already begun to spiral before she hit the door because you overreacted and she got embarrassed.

  “And for what? Huh? You’ve known her four months! Here’s a woman who grew up the way she did. She’s got this shitty mother and a murderous father. She grew up in public housing, and I can imagine she got a lot of crap for who her parents were and what they were like. Then she comes here and she goes to school. Makes something of herself. But Miles comes along and what does she do? She’s twenty-one years old and she dropped that career and came to Washington and made a life for her son. That’s what you know, and it’s more than a bunch of things she could have said. Who she is is all over her and your son. She is a good woman. Stronger than most people I know. And she loves you.”

  “She didn’t tell you because she was ashamed. How can she not be?” Elise’s voice was soft. “I know what she feels. I know what it means to live with secrets and to feel like other people’s defects are your responsibility. I know the shame of having violence in my life, know the humiliation of that. And she knew about Erin and Adele, yes, which in my opinion made her scared because she didn’t want to bring hurt into your life.” Elise took Erin’s hand.

  “She was my friend.”

  “She is your friend. As am I, right? And I’m telling you, I’m sorry you had to be devastated that way in public. Hell, at all. But she didn’t do it to you on purpose or to hurt you. She was victimized too. That reporter used her to hurt you, Adrian.”

  “I have to go.” Adrian pushed from his seat and blindly grabbed his keys.

  Brody caught up with him at the elevator. “When I was falling for Elise you told me you weren’t going to let me lie to myself. And that saved me. So I’m going to do you the same favor right now. I’m sorry I threw my water in your face, first of all. I was frustrated and you were working yourself and Erin up too. But it was shitty and disrespectful and I shouldn’t have done it. Second of all, don’t lie to yourself just to save face. You love her and you misjudged her. Go make this right before you lose the cha
nce.”

  “She should have told me about her father. She should have told me about everything. How can I trust her if she won’t tell me everything?”

  “I hope that’s enough for you once you’ve lost her for good.” Brody shook his head. “You’re really going to let her go? You and I talked about how much you loved her not even a week ago and now you just walk away?”

  “As long as I can see Miles, that’s what I care about.” He got on the elevator and didn’t meet Brody’s gaze as the doors slid shut.

  Jules was waiting at the ferry dock, concern on her face, Mary at her side. Neither of them said a thing as they helped Gillian into the car.

  “My house or yours?” Jules asked.

  “Or the police station? What the hell is going on, Gillian?” Mary demanded.

  And the words just came out, tumbling one after the other, even as they both helped Gillian up her front steps and into her house.

  Once she’d finished, Jules rocketed from where she’d been holding Gillian on the opposite side from Mary and began to pace. “That sanctimonious prick! He accused you of—”

  “Nothing. He didn’t accuse me of anything there. But he left a message on my voice mail. He thinks I hid it from him deliberately and I did. I can’t lie. I knew I should have told him about Ronnie but I never did. He never wants to see me again.” Her tears started anew.

  “You didn’t hide it from him, for fuck’s sake! You didn’t open some past wound for his amusement. It had nothing to do with him. You didn’t tell him about something that did not include him.” Jules was fuming.

  “But it did. His sister’s child was murdered by a crazy person. His sister-in-law was nearly killed by her crazy ex. Violence is something that includes him and I should have told him. And now you’re mad. I should have called a cab.”

  Mary knelt in front of her and shook her just a moment, enough to get her attention. “Of course you should have called us. You’re in pieces. I’ve never seen you so torn apart except after your gran passed. You love this man. He loves you. Would you like me to call him? Explain things?”