I set my glass down and freeze. I want to marry her.
“It’s not like you’re going to come up with the solution on your own. Go talk to her. You’ll figure it out.”
“Talk? Her text this morning was meant to break things off. Quitting was my solution, my way to make amends. Now that Jack knows about our relationship I have no leg to stand on.”
He cocks his head to the side. “How do you know she was breaking up with you if you haven’t talked to her?”
What else would she want to talk to me about? As far as she’s concerned I’m content pretending.
Still it’s no excuse.
“I’ll talk to her.”
“Good, and if that doesn’t work there is another option,” Leo says.
I lean forward. “I’m listening.”
Leo and I finish our conversation an hour later. I pay the bill and follow Leo outside. He clasps me on the shoulder and squeezes.
“Sleep on it, but don’t wait too long.”
I hail a cab back to my apartment, comforted that I somewhat have a plan. Until I unlock the door to my apartment and come face to face with my roommate.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath.
Leaning against the counter with a beer in hand, he practically jumps when I shut the front door.
“Dude,” he animatedly exclaims. “How did I not know you were banging Gabby DiVergilio?”
I stop mid-stride. “What the hell did you say?”
He laughs, walking toward me and holds out his hand like I’ll high-five him. “Man, I’ve been begging my buddy to have his girl set me up with Gabby for ages. She’s so fucking hot. You’ve got to tell me what it’s like to—”
Before I think I’m fisting his shirt and shoving him into the wall.
“Care to finish that sentence?” I growl.
He stares at me wide-eyed, shaking his head. So I drop him.
“Fuck, man. Was that really necessary?” he asks, smoothing out his shirt.
“Don’t talk about Gabriella like that again, we clear?”
“Crystal.”
“How did you know Gabriella and I were together?”
“She came by earlier looking for you. Said to tell you she left something on your bed.” He heads to the freezer and pulls out a bottle of vodka and pours a shot. “She looked pissed.”
Pissed?
I quickly make my way to my room and find a white envelope torn in half in the center of my bed. Cautiously, I open both halves and piece them together, starting with her signature pink sticky note.
I choose you.
What? How?
I fumble with the letter, struggling to line up the text. When I do I could swear I’ve been punched.
Gabriella resigned. She chose me…is that why she texted? Holding the torn paper in my hand I pace the room. I’ve sobered up but not nearly enough for this to make sense. Why would she be pissed at me? Because I didn’t call her back?
Taking out my phone I call her number. It goes to voicemail.
Desperate, I head to the living room where my roommate is lounging on the couch—the couch he hooks up with countless girls on—and cringe. He’s a scumbag and I’d hope Gabriella would never give him the time of day. Regardless, it’s a good reminder that if I don’t repair this, all kinds of men are waiting in the wings for a chance with her.
I can’t blame them but I also don’t need her considering other options.
I’m her future.
“Did she say why she was pissed or what she was doing here?”
“No clue,” he says, watching me with irritation. “Why don’t you ask her?”
As much as I want to punch him he does have a point.
Just as I’m about to leave, he stops me. “Wait, whatever happens don’t tell him about Brad, ok?”
“What about Brad?”
“You know, about his vacation a few weeks from now,” he says, as if Brad’s vacation is something we’ve discussed.
I shake my head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh…then forget I said anything.”
“Not a problem,” I tell him and quickly dart out of the apartment.
Seventeen minutes later I’m pounding at her door. I worry she won’t answer, that I’ll have to explain and beg through the door, but within a minute she’s standing before me.
My relief is short-lived.
“What do you want?”
“Can I come in?” I ask.
Gabriella doesn’t answer. She walks away, leaving the door open.
Taking it as an invitation I follow her inside and shut the door, preparing myself for another fight in her entryway and seriously doubting I’ll achieve the same outcome as before.
“I got your note,” I say, holding up the shredded paper.
She turns to face me, standing with her arms crossed like we’re in a stand-off, which is appropriate because I suppose we are.
“Why didn’t you call me today?”
The steely glare she’s giving me chases away whatever remaining level of intoxication I have.
“Why?” Her voice cracks under her demand.
“A lot’s happened today, Gabriella. Christ, I don’t even know where to start.”
“I have an idea. Why don’t you start with explaining how Jack knows about us and why you didn’t tell me?”
She knows.
“I was scared,” I admit.
Gabriella shakes her head and lowers her gaze to the floor. When she speaks again the anger in her tone shifts to hurt.
“And I wasn’t? Do you have any idea how humiliating it was to walk into Jack’s office to give my notice only to have him thank me for helping you come to your senses?” She laughs sharply without humor. “He hugged me. Actually hugged me and I had no idea what the hell he was talking about.”
“I was going to tell you.”
“When?” she challenges.
“Tomorrow, I swear.”
She walks until she’s standing right in front of me. “Coming to me should have been the first thing you did. Jesus, I spent half the day trying to get ahold of you. I couldn’t wait to tell you that I’d talked to my mom and had her blessing to find another job, knowing we’d have to find another place for my grandmother. But it would have been worth it if I could have been with you.”
“Gabriella,” I sigh, grabbing her arm to keep her close.
She shakes me off.
“Have you been drinking?” she asks.
She holds up her hand to stop me before I have a chance to respond.
I rub my hand over my face. Where the fuck do I begin? Reminding her that I promised we wouldn't get caught and that’s exactly what happened? Or how about the part where she was going to lose her job regardless of whether or not I stayed.
"I was trying to figure out the best way to tell you.”
"So instead of talking to me about this and figuring it out together, you thought you'd come up with the solution on your own?"
What could I say? That's exactly what I did.
"I didn't want to lose you. You said yourself you'd resent me. I was the one who convinced you to take a chance on our relationship and to go to New York. It's my fault we got caught.”
She looks away, shaking her head. "You really think I would have held you solely responsible?"
"I am responsible. And I’ve been an absolute mess over this…ask Leo."
Her eyebrow pinch together and I immediately realize my mistake.
“Leo? You talked to Leo about this?”
Shit.
“I ran into him right after Jack confronted me, I didn’t seek him out.”
“You told my brother before me?”
“I was looking for advice.”
“You should have been getting advice from me, not discussing our situation with Leo over drinks.”
Her lip trembles.
“It wasn’t like that.”
Again, I reach out and touch her upper arm.<
br />
“Don’t,” she snaps, shaking me off. “You knew how important it was to me that you open up and talk to me. This is huge, and it could have been the perfect opportunity for you to show me that you were willing to at least try.”
With the back of her hand she wipes at her tears.
“I’m more than willing, love.”
Gabriella takes several steps back. “Don’t call me that.”
“It was a matter of hours. I planned to come to you in the morning. After Jack left, I got piss drunk and tried to come up with a plan for how I was going to keep you when I’d fucked it all up. I need time to process everything and I didn’t seek your brother out, he was just there. Christ, I think I deserve credit for not showing up completely hammered and making it worse.”
She glares at me. “Or maybe instead of drowning your sorrows and assuming the worse, you should have trusted me enough to talk about it like adults. Like we’re in this together.”
Hour ago it seemed reasonable to sit down and sort things out on my own. Was I completely wrong? Does it even matter? In her eyes it’s another example of me shutting her out.
“I do trust you and I do want to talk about it. Come sit with me.”
I hold out my hand, waiting for her to take it.
Gabriella shakes her head. “Just go, Lucas.”
I stand there, watching her for the longest time. “You’re right; I should have called you immediately. For that I’m sorry. And if you truly want me to leave right now I’ll do that too.” I step closer and tip her chin up. “What you need to understand is if I leave, this conversation isn’t over and neither are we. I love you and if it takes the rest of my life to prove to you that I choose you too, I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Tears breach her lids, flowing down her cheeks to land in my hand.
“You know, since they day we met you’ve made it clear that you were calling the shots. When we’d talk, touch, even our first time together. It was all up to you.” She sucks in a breath. “We established this dance where we’d take a step forward, but every time I got too close you took two steps back, purposely hurting me to push me away. I disregarded my job and put you before my family, things I happily did because a future with you was important. Finally, finally I thought we were a real couple. That we’d fall into a give and take. But you have to have control.”
“That’s not true.”
“Then why haven’t I been to your apartment before tonight? I mean, how absurd is it that I had to get your address from Ki? Are you leading a double life? Do you actually go to the gym for two hours four times a week? What else are you hiding?”
Well, fuck. This isn’t how I wanted my other visits to come up. I also can’t lie.
“I’ve told you about my roommate and as far as what I do—”
“It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. You repeatedly shut me down when I wanted more from you until you decided you were ready to give it. And if I hadn’t told you that pretending wasn’t good enough we’d have stayed that way. I never tried forcing you into anything, all I wanted was for you to open up to me, to include me in decisions and consider my feelings.”
“I thought you were going to leave me. When you left Sunday morning we weren’t on the best of terms and I was trying to make it right. I thought I was doing the right thing. I chose you.”
“No. You chose for me. Big difference.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes, just give me a chance. Christ, I love you. I may not express it well but it’s true. I love you.”
Gabriella stares at me for several beats. “I don’t believe you.”
I latch on to her words, praying that they’re intended to provoke me. “What did I tell you about doubting me?”
She looks away and then back at me. “This isn’t a game to me.”
“Good, because it’s not to me either.”
Still sniffling she searches my eyes. “Prove it.”
My walk home sucks. Three miles at midnight is lonely. It’s also the perfect time to hatch a plan.
If communication is what she wants, that’s what she’ll get.
I pull up my phone and text her random facts about my life. The first time I had coffee. My middle name. The time my mom caught my rubbing one off. Tidbits I wouldn’t normally share with anyone because I never saw the need. Yet somehow I know they’ll mean something to her. More importantly, I want her to see that I’m trying.
Once inside my apartment, I head straight to my room. I drop onto the bed and stare at the ceiling. These gestures are all well and good, but sharing details about my life isn’t going to solve the issue of why I keep to myself in the first place. Gabriella was right. I need closure.
I also need to deal with it before I can change my mind.
Groaning, I pick up my phone and prepare to make a call I’ve put off for years. As I wait for the first ring I realize I should have organized my thoughts and contemplate hanging up. Too bad the bastard answers on the second ring.
“I sincerely hope you’re calling to accept my proposal,” my father says.
“I hate you,” I blurt out.
A pregnant silence lingers in the wake of my words.
“The day you kicked me out I promised myself I’d never be anything like you. Professionally it’s worked out well. It drove me to work harder to prove that everything I had was earned from my hard work and not handouts. Personally, it’s been crippling.”
I push off the bed and walk to the window.
“I’ve hated you for a long time. So long that it’s seeped into every aspect of my life. I don’t know if I can forgive you, or what type of relationship we could ever have, but I’m done letting this grudge consume me. I don’t want to carry this around anymore.
My father clears his throat. “What do you expect me to say?”
“Nothing, at least not now. This isn’t a conversation I want to have over the phone.”
“And if it’s not a conversation I want to have at all?” he asks.
“Then you can forget about me considering your proposal to take over the company. I’ll find a way to buy it from under you and sell it off piece by piece.”
Thousands of people would be out of jobs. I’d never do that but he doesn’t know me well enough anymore to call my bluff.
He sighs. “When can I expect you?”
“Soon. I’ll be in touch.”
“Very well.”
I hang up and suck in as much air as my lungs will allow, and slowly let it out. It’s ridiculous. Nothing has been resolved. The entire conversation lasted less than five minutes, yet a huge weight has been lifted. While it’s fresh on my mind, I make arrangements to return to Ireland and text Gabriella one more time before calling it a night.
Me: You were right about everything. I love you.
She doesn’t reply. In fact, my phone remains eerily silent until Leo calls early one morning a few weeks later.
“Hello?” I answer on the first ring.
“Morning, Irish. Bad news.”
Chapter 24
Lucas
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Bad things happen in threes, or so they say.
I’ve never been superstitious but at this moment I hope it’s true since that’s the number of things I’m mourning—my job, my relationship, and now the matriarch of our family.
I can’t bear any more heartache.
Taking my seat in the front pew I stare at the image of my grandmother on the cover of her funeral program still unable to believe she’s gone. Days ago she was so full of life and as silly as it sounds it almost seemed impossible that this day would come. To me she was, and always will be, larger than life.
And I’m not alone.
All around me people fill the church, mostly family friends, regulars from the restaurant and even employees from the nursing home. It’s heartwarming that my grandmother touched the lives of all these people in some capacity.
She definitely touched mine.
Emotions swell in my chest when a light squeeze on my shoulder grabs my attention. Welcoming the distraction, I glance back at Summer and give both her and Kyra a sad smile.
My best friends have been my strength these last few days. Snuggling with me on the couch, wearing PJ’s well into the afternoon and enduring a constant rotation of The Breakfast Club, Dirty Dancing and Pitch Perfect.
I’d be lost without them.
But despite being surrounded by my family and friends I’ve never felt more alone. I’ve always been a Work to Live not a Live to Work kind of person, but it’s impossible for work not to be a big part of a person’s identity when that’s where you spend most of your waking hours. Sadly, the other hours of my day were mostly filled with Lucas and my family in that order.
The void created by this trifecta could rival the black hole.
Leave it to Leo to point this out.
“Where’s Lucas?”
I glare at him out of the corner of my eye. I’ve been so caught up in what’s going on with my family I haven’t dealt with the Lucas situation. Or maybe I’m taking a page from his book and avoiding it.
Not that it’s been easy.
For days he’s sent me text messages, providing me with random stories about his life. They started out as funny and light but progressed into deeper more meaningful pieces of information and ideas. Like reaching out to his father.
And all of that was before my grandmother passed.
Now he’s only focusing on me. Leaving coffee for me on the counter every morning and departing without disturbing me, understanding that I’m not ready to see him. My favorite foods magically appear when I need them. Dry cleaning has been delivered and hung in the entryway closet. He’s even gone as far as to take shifts at the restaurant to give my family time to make arrangements for my grandmother’s service.
Conflict of Interest (Employee Relations Book 1) Page 31