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Lost Without You

Page 6

by Yahrah St. John


  * * *

  “Pull!” Shane ordered Victor, their butler, on Saturday morning from outside the family estate as he aimed the double-barreled shotgun in the air at the clay pigeon. Victor was operating the target thrower that morning so Shane could relieve some tension.

  The clay pigeon went flying into the air and Shane tracked it with a steady, smooth swing. Once he had a good eye on the disk’s trajectory, he pulled the trigger and fired.

  Bam. He hit it dead center.

  Shane moved to a different angle and made an adjustment to his position. “Pull!”

  He continued the exercise at least a dozen times before stopping to rest. Shane was walking back to get a cool drink when he noticed Kayla standing beside Victor, holding out a bottle of water for him.

  He handed the shotgun to Victor before accepting the bottle. “Thanks.” He twisted off the cap and drank liberally.

  “Have a little aggression you need to get out?” Kayla inquired, rubbing her steadily increasing belly.

  “Why would you say that?” Shane asked, leaning back to take another swig of water.

  “Hmm…” Kayla shrugged. “I don’t know, perhaps because skeet shooting is a somewhat aggressive sport.”

  “It’s not like I’m killing birds or something,” Shane snapped.

  Kayla smiled despite his tone. “No, but there’s obviously something on your mind.” She and Shane were close, and she could read him just as he could read her. “Care to tell me about it?”

  “Not particularly.”

  Kayla’s eyes narrowed. Shane was more guarded than usual, which meant this was about a woman. He became quiet and withdrawn only when it came to his private life.

  “What?” He hated that Kayla was staring at him, trying to figure him out.

  “You might as well tell me, because you know I’m like a pit bull.”

  “Walk with me,” Shane said, entwining his arm with hers and walking back toward the house. He turned back momentarily. “Victor, I’m done for now. Thank you.”

  “So…” Kayla bumped her shoulder against his forearm. “What’s going on? I hope this isn’t about Gabrielle Burton.”

  “In a way it sort of is.”

  “I thought after our talk on her first day that you guys were getting along,” Kayla said. She hadn’t heard a peep out of Shane all week, so she’d assumed the situation was handled.

  “It’s not about that,” Shane said.

  “Then what?”

  Shane stopped in his tracks and regarded her sideways. “Who am I talking to now?” he asked. “Am I talking to my sister and confidante, or am I talking to the president of Adams Cosmetics?”

  Kayla paused. “I don’t think I know how to differentiate.” Adams Cosmetics was a part of her just as much as it was a part of Shane.

  Shane raised an eyebrow and became silent.

  Kayla got the message. “Okay…okay. You’re talking to your sister. So what happened?”

  “I kissed Gabrielle,” Shane blurted out.

  “You did what?” Kayla stopped in her tracks.

  Shane pointed a finger at her. “You promised me you were going to listen as my sister.”

  Kayla inhaled deeply and started walking again. “You’re right. I’m sorry. But how could this have happened? I thought you didn’t like Gabrielle Burton.”

  “I don’t. Or I didn’t,” he corrected himself. “But something changed.” Shane opened the terrace door so Kayla could enter the mansion.

  “Clearly.”

  “Kayla…” Shane warned and pulled her into the study so no one in the family could hear their conversation. “Don’t you think this is upsetting to me, too? I mean, one minute I’m against hiring her, and the next she’s in my arms on the dance floor. Then one thing…just led to another.”

  Kayla laughed at Shane’s interpretation of events. She doubted it was as simple as that. “And how did you end up dancing?” she asked, sitting down in a nearby chair. She needed to get off her feet. Standing for long periods was becoming increasingly difficult.

  “We decided to go out after work for an innocent cocktail,” Shane said. “I was trying to be friendly. I thought it might be nice to blow off some steam.”

  “And instead you ended up kissing?” Kayla smiled. “Hmm…”

  “What does that ‘hmm’ mean?” Shane asked, looking down at her. “I didn’t want it to happen.”

  “Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself?” Shane didn’t answer, so Kayla continued, “Deep down on some level, despite your protests to the contrary, you are attracted to plain ole Gabrielle.”

  “She’s not plain!”

  Kayla held up her hands to defend herself. “Whoa! I was merely using the words you’d used to describe her once, but I can see you feel differently now.”

  Shane shook his head. “I guess I do. Up until now, we’d never really spent a significant amount of time together, so perhaps I didn’t really know her when I formed that opinion.”

  “Sounds very logical.”

  Shane glanced sideways at Kayla. “Why do I hear a hint of sarcasm in your voice?”

  “Because everything you’re saying makes sense,” Kayla said. “I’m just curious how you’re going to handle your feelings for Gabrielle going forward.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You’re such a man!” Kayla sighed. “You think you can just ignore them?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m going to do,” Shane replied huffily. “You know as well as I do that the kiss should never have happened. Gabby is my employee, and although she may not be plain, she really isn’t my type. I must have gotten caught up in the moment. And Gabby obviously feels the same way or she wouldn’t be ignoring me now.”

  Kayla shrugged. “Is that what has you out of sorts? That she’s ignoring you? It’s probably her defense mechanism. And you may recall I tried to ignore my feelings for Ethan, too, and I didn’t fare too well in that department.”

  “That was different. You had a crush on him since you were a little girl,” Shane said. “I, on the other hand, have never thought of Gabby in a romantic light.”

  “Fine. It’s your life.” Kayla shrugged. “I’m just telling you, I learned a thing or two when I fell for Ethan. And the heart wants what it wants.”

  Shane shook his head. Kayla was wrong. He knew what he wanted, and it was not Gabrielle Burton.

  * * *

  “I’m ready,” Gabrielle told Courtney later that morning after they’d just finished a Pilates class at Courtney’s country club. Courtney had contacted her the previous evening and invited her. Now they were in the steam room, sweating in the heat that had risen to nearly one hundred degrees after Courtney had thrown some additional water on the stones.

  “Ready for what?” Courtney asked from her position laid out on one of the sauna benches. She was lost in the haze of smoke.

  “For a makeover.”

  That perked Courtney up. She jumped to sit upright and faced Gabrielle on the opposite side of the sauna. “Really? You’re willing to let me make you over from head to toe?”

  “Yes.”

  Courtney’s eyes narrowed, and she tried to figure out Gabrielle. “Why the change of heart? I thought you were dead set against it. I thought you were happy with the way you look.”

  “It’s just time for a change,” Gabrielle replied. “I’m back in the States with a new job and I want to command attention, so I need a new look. You know, new hairdo, new clothes…the works.”

  “Oh…” Courtney rubbed her hands together in glee. “This is going to be so much fun. You’ll see. You won’t know what to do with all the attention you’ll get once I’m done with you. The men will be lined up at your door.”

  “Sounds great.” Gabrielle smiled, but the only man she truly wanted to notice her was Shane. She just hoped that once he saw her, he would no longer see a frog, but a princess whom he wouldn’t mind kissing.

  “How about we shoot for next Saturday?” Courtney
asked. “My family is having a dinner party at the estate and we’re inviting a few friends. You should come. It would be a great opportunity to show off your new look.”

  “You’re on.” Gabrielle leaned over to shake her hand.

  * * *

  As she drove to her parents’ home later on Sunday afternoon, Gabrielle wondered what Shane was up to. Focusing on something else was better than the alternative, which was worrying about visiting her parents, whom she hadn’t seen in over a decade. Had they even wondered how she was at times? If she was dead or alive?

  If they did, she would have never known because they’d never tried to call, much less visit her in Paris. Most parents would jump at the chance to visit their daughter in Paris and not have to worry about lodging, but when she’d suggested a visit, they’d made up excuses. Her father couldn’t get the time off work, or her mother hated flying long distances. Since when? They’d driven most places for family trips when Seth was alive. How did her mother know she didn’t like flying?

  Seth. Her dear brother. Taken from them too young. To this day, Gabrielle could remember him helping her up into the boat after a storm had come suddenly and a wave had knocked her overboard. Being her big brother, he’d dived in after her and gotten her to safety, but then another wave had hit, throwing him backward into the water. She could still remember his friends’ screams as the thunder and roaring waves got louder, and Seth drifted farther and farther out to sea. They’d tried to paddle toward him, but the current was too strong.

  Why was it that just thinking about spending time with her parents caused her to relive Seth’s drowning? She’d thought, or hoped, that time would heal the wounds, but they seemed just as raw as ever. Even more so when her rental car pulled into the driveway of her parents’ home and it was the same as she remembered the day she left, except maybe with a fresher coat of paint. The lawn was still beautifully manicured, and her mother’s rocker still sat outside on the porch by her geraniums.

  Was she ready to face them after all this time? She didn’t have time to find out, because the front door opened and her mother came out to greet her. Now that was a surprise.

  Slowly, Gabrielle exited the vehicle and swung her purse over her shoulder.

  “Gabby,” her mother said as she waved from the porch. “C’mon inside. I have some sweet tea waiting for you.”

  “Uh…thanks,” Gabrielle said, walking up the wooden steps. It felt as if she was going to the gauntlet. “You shouldn’t have.”

  “Oh, shush, it was no trouble,” her mother said.

  When she made it to the top, instead of enveloping her in a warm hug after a decade apart, her mother gave her a quick pat on the back and walked inside their family home. Gabrielle didn’t know why she’d expected anything different, but she had. She’d hoped that time had lessened the pain for her mother and helped her finally acknowledge that she still had one child left. She was wrong.

  “Your father isn’t home yet,” her mother was saying as Gabrielle walked into the foyer. “But I’m sure he’ll be back for dinner.”

  He was exactly the person she needed to speak with to find out if what Andrew Jackson had said was true, but it appeared she would have to bide her time.

  “Don’t just stand there,” her mother said. “Come into the parlor.” She gestured for Gabrielle to follow her.

  Once inside, a pitcher of sweet iced tea and tea biscuits awaited Gabrielle. Her mother still remembered that the tea biscuits, which were more like rich butter cookies, were her favorites. Some were plain and others were topped with milk chocolate, but Gabrielle liked them all the same.

  Gabby took a seat across from her mother while she poured her a glass of iced tea and set about making her a small plate. She had forgotten how Southern her mother truly was. Time had weathered Pamela Burton’s face, and there were more lines than Gabrielle remembered. She’d put on a few extra pounds, but generally speaking her mother looked in good health. It was a small consolation, but she could be happy about that.

  “Thank you.” Gabrielle accepted the plate and immediately began munching on the cookies. She could never resist them when she was a little girl.

  “Slow down, there’s more in the kitchen.” Her mother pointed in that direction. “I made a tin that you can take with you.”

  “That’s very kind of you.”

  “So.” Her mother leaned back in her chair and assessed her. “You’re looking well if not a little thin, dear.”

  “Thanks, I think.”

  “You’ll never meet and marry a man if you don’t have some meat on your bones.”

  If putting some meat on her bones was the way to win Shane’s attention, she’d readily do it, but she doubted that was it. Shane Adams didn’t see her as beautiful or sexy. He thought she was a “Plain Jane,” but Gabrielle intended to change all that. After Courtney’s makeover, he would think she was as beautiful and sophisticated as any woman he’d ever dated.

  “By the way, are you seeing anyone?” her mother inquired.

  Why did she have to ask the dreaded question that every single woman hated to be asked? “Not at the moment.”

  “But you have someone in mind?” Her mother picked up on the inflection in her tone.

  “Perhaps, but it’s too soon to say. Time will tell.” Gabrielle couldn’t believe they were having a normal mother-daughter conversation.

  “I’m so happy to hear that,” her mother said. “There’s nothing worse than being alone.”

  And then she went and blew it. “Being alone has its advantages,” Gabrielle responded.

  “Like what?” her mother asked as if she really couldn’t fathom how any woman would enjoy the prospect.

  “You can come and go as you please,” Gabrielle offered. “You have no one to answer to.”

  “But no one who cares about you.”

  “That wouldn’t be any different for me,” Gabrielle said. The moment the words were out of her mouth, she wished she could take them back.

  “You don’t think you have anyone who cares about you?” Her mother seemed genuinely surprised by her statement.

  Gabrielle was tongue-tied. Here was the opportunity to put her cards out on the table. Finally get it out in the open that she’d felt like an afterthought once Seth was gone, but she heard the front door close and soon her father was standing in front of her in the parlor.

  “Gabrielle.” He nodded in her direction. “Pamela, fix me a drink, would ya?” he ordered as he plopped down in the recliner opposite Gabrielle.

  Her mother quickly got up and rushed to the small bar in the room to make him a drink. Gabrielle remembered her dad having a drink every now and again, but since when was he a heavy drinker? Apparently, Andrew Jackson was right about something.

  Gabrielle was shocked at the appearance of the man sitting before her. Gone was the fun-loving, kind, compassionate father who used to sneak her and Seth into the Jax Cosmetics lab. In his place was a cold, stone-faced man with a weathered look on his face and a mess of silver hair. What had happened to her father? When had he turned into a ghost of his former self? Had her leaving nearly a decade ago done this? Would staying have helped?

  As she stared back at him, she doubted it. Staying would have only hardened her and made her hate her parents. “Daddy, it’s good to see you.”

  “Wish I could say the same,” he huffed as he gulped down half the drink her mother had handed him.

  “James!”

  “Pamela, we haven’t seen this girl in ten, twelve years, and now I hear she’s accepted a job at Adams Cosmetics?” Her father’s voice rose as he spoke. “I mean, where’s the loyalty—after everything Andrew Jackson has done for this family.”

  Anger boiled inside Gabrielle. If he thought she would just sit back and be attacked, he had another thought coming. “I owe Andrew Jackson nothing.”

  “Is that right?” Her father’s eyes narrowed as they washed over her. “It’s because of him that I kept food on the table and clothes
on your back! Pamela, I need another drink!”

  Her mother jumped up from her chair to get him another.

  “You be grateful to him then because it has nothing to do with me. Parents are supposed to provide for their children.”

  “You self-righteous, little…”

  “James! Stop it. Stop this now,” her mother cried as she nearly threw the drink at him. “Look at how you’re acting. We finally get Gabby back and you’re behaving insufferably.”

  Gabrielle rose from her chair. “I shouldn’t have come.”

  “No, maybe you shouldn’t have,” her father responded shortly.

  Gabrielle prepared to walk out, but she stopped herself. Despite the vitriol coming from his mouth, she’d come home with a purpose, and she would not be deterred. “Can you give us a minute alone?” she asked her mother.

  Her mother looked at her and then at her father. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “It’ll be fine. I need to speak to Daddy alone.”

  “If you’re sure…”

  Gabrielle nodded and her mother reluctantly left the room.

  Gabrielle threw down her purse, folded her arms across her chest and faced her father, who sat resolutely in his chair. “I don’t know what your problem is, but I came here to help you.”

  “Help me?” her father asked.

  “Yes, help you,” Gabrielle said. “Andrew Jackson stopped by my hotel suite.”

  “I’m aware.”

  “So you knew he was coming?” Gabrielle couldn’t believe her ears. Her own father had set her up and sent his crook of a boss to blackmail her.

  “No, Andrew didn’t tell me until after.”

  “You mean after he asked me to commit corporate espionage to save you from being beaten by the mob?” Gabrielle hissed.

  “Yes, after,” he answered unapologetically. “So what are you going to do?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean what are you going to do, Gabby?” he asked, running his fingers through his thick silver afro. “Are you going to help your old man out of a bind, or are you going to feed him to the wolves?”

 

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