“This is me,” she said, and she could hear the relief in her own voice. “I’m really sorry about your boots and your, um, jeans. I’ll cover the dry cleaning if you let me know what I owe you.” She hesitated, then forced herself to finish. “And thanks for looking out for me tonight. You know, the water and the food and whatnot. I guess if I’d listened to you I wouldn’t be sitting here in Ally’s clothes right now.” She threw a self-deprecating smile his way and reached for the door handle.
“It’s not going to go anywhere. You know that, right?” he said. “Tyler likes you, but he loves Ally.”
Her fingers tightened around the door handle. She wanted to tell him that she had no idea what he was talking about, but she didn’t think she could pull it off. All she could pull off, apparently, was a bunny-in-car-headlights stare.
“And he’s not the type to cheat, even if he wasn’t head over heels.” Jon didn’t sound condemning. He was simply stating a fact. Yet she was still offended.
“You think I would do that to Tyler? To Ally?”
He shrugged. “People do strange things when they think they’re in love.”
“Think? I only think I’m in love with Tyler, do I?”
“You can never really know someone from the outside looking in. Hell of a lot of crushes have died through familiarity.”
From the outside looking in? Crushes?
He doesn’t know. He has no idea Tyler used to be mine.
The realization hit her like a slap. But why would he know? He’d been in Canada for over a decade. And before their father’s illness had changed things, she’d never known Tyler to contact his brother. They hadn’t known the finer details of each other’s life, and she couldn’t imagine a circumstance where her history with Tyler would have come up in conversation between the two brothers in recent weeks. Men simply didn’t talk that way, especially men like Jon and Tyler Adamson.
For some reason, the idea that Jon thought she was the kind of silly, shallow woman who convinced herself she was in love with a man without ever really understanding or knowing him made her blood boil. She wasn’t a little kid—she was a woman, with a woman’s understanding of the world. Which was why she had bloody well broken up with Tyler in the first place—because she understood herself and him too well to let things grind on any longer.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I saw your face tonight.”
She’d guessed as much. Most of the evening was an inchoate blur, but she could remember the ache she’d felt watching Ally and Tyler slow dance together. And Gabby could remember the way Jon had looked at her after he hauled her off the dance floor. Apparently, her poker face needed some serious work.
“You still don’t know what you’re talking about.” She opened the door and swung her legs out of the car. Strong fingers wrapped around her forearm.
“I’m saying this as a friend. Don’t waste your time chasing a fantasy.”
“We’re not friends, and you are so far off base it’s not funny. Tyler and I went out for three years. We practically lived together,” she said. “So maybe you should get your facts straight before you start handing out advice people didn’t ask for.”
She tugged her arm free and slid out of the truck. She slammed the door, then marched up the path and into her apartment building. In some well-hidden, still-sober corner of her brain she noted that Jon didn’t drive away until she’d let herself into the secure foyer of her building.
He was such a freaking Good Samaritan.
She stepped into the elevator, fuming at his presumption. Then she caught a glimpse of herself in the polished steel doors—panda eyes, wet hair, someone else’s clothes—and her shoulders sagged as all her outrage drained away, leaving her with nothing but shame and embarrassment.
She’d made a fool of herself. She’d behaved like a silly adolescent, flirted with all the wrong people and ignored good advice when it was offered. Then she’d compounded all of the above by getting maudlin and pathetic over Tyler and been so obvious about it that his brother—of all people—had guessed her dirty, sad little secret.
So much for getting a life.
She let herself into her apartment and walked straight to the kitchen. She poured herself a big glass of water, then crossed to the living room. She sat on the couch, knees drawn to her chest, and forced herself to drink all the water, even though she didn’t really want it.
Tomorrow was not going to be pretty, on many levels.
She let her head drop back. She was tired and her feet hurt and she felt like the biggest idiot alive. Worse, she was now hugely indebted to Jon, who was the keeper of her secret.
It occurred to her that she should probably be worried that a man she barely knew was privy to her most personal feelings. If he told Tyler or Ally, Gabby’s friendship with them would never be the same.
But she wasn’t worried. Not even a little bit. Embarrassed, yes. Mortified and angry with herself, too. But not worried.
She pondered the notion for a few minutes, her alcohol-soaked brain moving slowly. She couldn’t come up with a solid answer. All she knew was that in some odd, crazy way, she trusted Jon. He was an honorable man, and she knew without asking that he would consider telling anyone her secret a huge breach of trust.
You’re really, really drunk.
There was no denying that. Struggling to her feet, she made her way to her bedroom. Between flashbacks to the party and the conversation with Jon, it was a long time before she fell asleep.
GABBY AND TYLER HAD BEEN lovers. Not just lovers, they’d been in a long-term relationship. Three years, she had said.
It felt wrong. Really wrong. And for the life of him Jon couldn’t work out why. Tyler had obviously had a life before Ally. Gabby was a grown woman. Big deal if they’d been together.
But Jon couldn’t stop chewing it over as he drove home, to the point where he snatched up the phone and called his brother the moment he hit the apartment. It was late, but he was confident Tyler would still be up. And if he wasn’t, tough. This was important.
“What’s up?” Tyler asked the moment he answered the phone.
“You never told me you’d gone out with Gabby.”
There was a small pause. “It never came up.”
“You didn’t think it was worth mentioning?” He sounded angry, Jon realized. He was angry.
“Actually, no. What’s going on?”
“How long ago did you break up?”
“I guess it’s coming up to four years now.”
“Why did it end?”
“You want to tell me why I’m under the hot lights at one in the morning?”
“Why did you break up with her?”
“I didn’t end it, she did.”
Jon frowned at the wall. Gabby had ended things with Tyler? Yet she was still in love with him. It didn’t make sense. “You must have done something.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Gabby wouldn’t have broken up with you without a good reason.”
There was a long pause. “What’s going on? Did something happen between you two tonight?”
“No.”
“Then I don’t get it. Why the third degree?”
“She said something, that’s all. I was surprised.”
“It’s not a big deal. It wasn’t working between us, she pulled the pin. I met Ally and realized Gabby had been right.”
He sounded so matter-of-fact. And yet Gabby was eating her heart out over him. “Jon. Hello?”
“Yeah. I’m still here.”
“Is something going on between you and Gabby? Ally mentioned that she thought there was a bit of a vibe between you two—”
“Nothing’s going on. And there’s definitely no vibe.”
“Right. So why are we having this conversation?”
Jon rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. I couldn’t sleep. I’ll see you on Monday.”
Tyler sighed heavily. “Y
ou know, the sky’s not gonna fall if you talk to me. Life as we know it isn’t going to end.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I was curious, that’s all.”
“Sure. Whatever you say. See you Monday.” Tyler sounded weary.
Jon put down the phone. Calling Tyler had been a mistake. In fact, Jon was beginning to think that coming to Melbourne and taking the job offer had been a mistake, too. Every time he hung out with Tyler, every time they talked, it set up unrealistic expectations. Tyler was so loved-up courtesy of Ally that he couldn’t see that it was too late for them to be the kind of brothers who pulled together through the hard times. It had never been that way, and it was crazy to think it could be that way now.
All through their childhood they’d fought their own battles, kept their own counsel. Other brothers might have bonded over the shared experience of a brutal childhood. But not them. And they’d continued the pattern into adult life. The moment he’d been old enough to legally leave home, Jon had bailed and hadn’t looked back. Even though he’d known his absence would mean Tyler would bear the brunt of their father’s anger, Jon had saved his own skin first. Tyler had left a couple of years later, and after that the only time they had seen each other had been on Mother’s Day when they’d both made the annual obligatory guilt visit to Woodend. He’d flown to Canada the day after their mother had been buried and had barely exchanged a handful of emails and phone calls with Tyler over the next decade.
The truth was, Jon knew his ex-business partner better than he knew his own brother. He’d spent more time with him, shared more jokes, shared more of himself than he’d ever shared with Tyler.
Despite the lateness of the hour, Jon flicked on the TV. He knew himself well enough to know he wasn’t even close to being ready to sleep yet. His mind was too busy. Gabby, his brother, Gabby with his brother, the fact that even now he wanted a beer so badly his mouth watered…
You’re a freakin’ basket case, you know that?
He turned up the volume on the TV. Anything to drown out this thoughts.
GABBY MADE SURE SHE WAS THE first person in the office on Monday. At least that way she could spare herself the walk of shame past all the men in the workshop. It would be bad enough as it was.
A hot day had been forecast so she’d dressed accordingly in a black wrap skirt and yellow tank. Despite the fact that she’d had half a pack of aspirin and several liters of water yesterday, she was still feeling gritty-eyed and tired as she dropped into her chair and turned on her computer.
Apparently, she was really out of practice with being a party animal. Fancy that.
She’d been working for an hour when she heard the first arrival. She braced herself. If it was Jon, she would have to look into his eyes and know that he was the keeper of her most personal secret. If it was anyone else, she would have to live through the first of what was sure to be many recaps of her behavior Saturday night.
She saw Dino’s balding head and relaxed a little. Of the two options, she definitely preferred teasing to self-conscious squirming. Dino sauntered over to her office, his jeans hitched too high as usual.
“Yo, Gabby. How are you doing?”
“Good, thanks. How ’bout you?”
He nodded, a cheerful smile on his middle-aged face. Innocent as the day he was born.
Gabby wasn’t fooled for a minute.
“Yeah, I’m good, thanks. Except… Ooh. Wait a minute. I don’t feel so good…” A full minute of wretching noises ensued before Dino finally bent forward and let a pizza-shaped piece of plastic vomit fall onto the floor.
He immediately collapsed, laughing. She waited until he’d calmed down a little before smiling benignly at him.
“You done?”
“For the moment. You mind if I take that back?” He pointed to the plastic vomit. “I want to do it again when the boys get in.”
“Of course you do.” She gestured gracefully toward the plastic vomit. “Help yourself.”
Still chuckling, he stooped to collect his prop. “Oh, and Lucia said to remind you about our anniversary party. Not this Sunday but the next, at the Burvale, one o’clock.”
“Got the invitation on my fridge,” she assured him.
He gave her a thumbs-up and disappeared into the shop to work up more pranks.
By lunchtime she’d collected three fake vomits and a can of pea-and-ham soup. The guys had laughed until they’d cried and she’d listened to them describe her moment of glory many times—complete with sound effects, naturally. Everyone, it seemed, had something to say about her party trick—except Jon. He worked quietly on the latest prototype Tyler had given him to finesse and only looked up from his tools a couple of times when Paul and Kelly were being particularly boisterous. Even then Jon glanced at her briefly as though assessing how she was taking it before resuming his work.
Generally speaking, she loved working in a predominantly male environment, but it was a long day and a real test of her sense of humor. She was more than a little relieved when the shop emptied at five o’clock. Even Jon left on time, which meant she’d be able to work in peace this evening. It felt like a small blessing.
She celebrated by stretching her legs and making herself a cup of coffee. She was pouring in the water when she heard movement in the workshop. She walked to the door of the staffroom. Sure enough, it was Jon.
“I thought you’d gone,” she said before she could stop herself.
“I was giving Carl a lift home. His son borrowed his car today.”
“Right.”
Damn. So much for her peace and quiet. She returned to her office. She could hear Jon moving around as she saved the sales report she’d been working on. Now that it was only the two of them, she couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said to her on Saturday night and the way he’d looked at her when he’d said it. For some reason, that moment in the archive room popped into her head. The warm, firm grip of his hand on her backside. That long, sticky pause between him grabbing her and her telling him to unhand her.
She shook her head to dislodge the memory. She was here to work, not to brood over Tyler’s difficult brother. She wrote up another six invoices, then printed them off and folded them into envelopes. She was searching her desk for stamps when she glanced up and realized Jon was standing in the doorway.
“Hi,” she said warily.
“I’m going to grab a pizza. You want anything?”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
No way was she sitting through an awkward meal with him. Or even a nonawkward one. The less time she spent with him, the better.
He turned to go.
“I don’t know if Tyler told you, but there’s no rush on that campaign table you’re working on,” she said, before he could slip off. “So there’s really no need for you to put in all these long hours.”
Because, really, her life would be a lot easier if she could go back to the good old days when she’d had the place to herself after hours. This arrangement was way too…intimate for her peace of mind.
“Sure.”
He left, and she mulled over what he’d said. Or, more accurately, what he hadn’t said. Last week she’d been suspicious that he was hanging around at work out of some misguided notion that she needed protecting. She was getting that sense again tonight, by the bucketload. Sure, he’d denied it when she confronted him, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t been right.
By the time she heard Jon returning with the pizza she’d worked up a righteous head of steam on the subject. She was a grown woman. She lived her own life, made her own decisions. She didn’t need or want some random man appointing himself her protector. In the back of her mind, a small part of her observed that it was almost a relief to have a reason to be angry with him again.
Throwing down her pen, she rounded the desk and strode out to confront him. A wary look came over his face and his steps slowed.
“I want an honest answer,” she said. “Do you have work you need to do tonight or n
ot?”
He shrugged. “There’s always work to do.”
A beautiful nonanswer. He was a master of the art form.
“Okay. Let me ask this another way so we can both be absolutely clear. Are you hanging around on purpose out of some stupid idea that I need help locking up?”
He put the pizza on the workbench. “Does it matter?”
“Uh, yeah, it does. In one scenario, you’re here for a legitimate reason. In the other, you’re acting like a patronizing chauvinist.”
His eyes narrowed. “So thinking it’s dangerous for you to be here alone in the dark and walk across a badly lit parking lot makes me a chauvinist?”
“No, assuming I can’t take care of myself makes you a chauvinist. I know you’ll find it hard to believe, but I stayed here on my own for years—years—before you. I don’t need you to babysit me.”
“Did you see the glass in the street the other day? Someone’s car was broken into.”
“So?”
“So what if you were leaving when that was happening?”
“I’d call the cops.”
“Great. They’d arrive in time to draw the chalk outline.”
“I’m not stupid, Jon. I park my car as close to the door as possible. I always make sure I’m locked in. And I might be small, but I can look after myself.”
She grabbed his pizza from the workbench and shoved it at him. “Eat your pizza at home. Your services are not required here, Sir Galahad.”
He took the box, but his eyes flashed dangerously. She’d seen that look in his eye one other time—when he’d picked her up and bodily moved her out of the way. A thrill of something that was almost fear raced down her spine. She swiveled on her heel and marched to her office. After a short pause, she heard Jon following her. She ignored him, even though all the little hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end. Only when she was safely on her own turf did she deign to turn and acknowledge his presence.
“Still here?” she asked coolly.
“Show me.” He was all belligerent male, his eyes turbulent, his body tense as he moved toward her.
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