Kissed (22 page)

“Care to tell me what the hell you were thinking talking to David about…” And then I couldn’t figure out how to finish.

“What? The whore? You can’t say it, can you?” He was mocking me.

Of course I wouldn’t say it, but I also couldn’t say, “my personal business,” “my personal relationship,” “my” anything because I wasn’t allowed to have a “my” clause in all this.

“I told you I had this under control. It was my decision how and when this went down. Do you understand the risk of leaking information like this in an uncontrolled manner to a man known for his careless and reckless decisions?”

“Oh, we understand the risks, my boy. We were counting on them.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but I suddenly realized I was at a complete loss, and I had no idea what was happening. What I did know was that the game had changed on me somehow, and I didn’t have a clue what the hell was going on. I clamped my mouth shut, my jaw tightening as I waited for something more.

“We’ve had a change of plans,” Trainor said coolly. “We’re no longer convinced David is a good investment for us.”

I tried to hide the rush of breath that left me. “What?” I spat out.

“Our only question for you at this point is, can we count on you to wrap things up neatly for us?”

“What does that mean?” My jaw was tight. I was confused. It didn’t work like this. It literally never worked like this. I wasn’t brought in to consult on
possible
investments. I was brought in to consult on definitive players with high stakes attached to them.

“We want you to end him. Shouldn’t be too hard for a man like you. We’ve gotten the ball rolling for you. All you have to do is use those reckless tendencies of David’s to your advantage.”

I scoffed, but it was more an involuntary shock response. Every hair on my body was standing on end. “I didn’t spend the last two months in Chicago so you could pull the plug on me now, and you didn’t invest this much time in David to walk away either.”

“Malcolm and I don’t like investments that aren’t…pliable. You’ve done shit to get this man in line, and we’re not in the habit of being patient. David has enough financial backing to make a go of this alone, and we don’t want to see him pitted against future investments of ours. So he needs to go away—for good. A decent scandal ought to do the trick. So I’m going to ask you again if you’re prepared to wrap this up for us.”

“And in so doing…?”

Trainor hummed for a moment as though contemplating. “Toss that little hooker of his to the wolves.”

Bang number three.

“Shouldn’t take much more than that I shouldn’t think.” Trainor’s voice was so casual and conversational it made my blood run cold. He was talking about using Gabe to destroy a man’s reputation in the same way someone might talk about tossing out leftovers.

“You will stay away from Gabe and leave her out of this.” My jaw was tight, and my words were seethed through gritted teeth.

Trainor was silent for a moment. “I was afraid you might say that.” And he hung up.

I sat there for a moment, staring at my dashboard. I’m pretty sure I’d just gotten fired, though I hardly cared if I ever worked for those men again, but I was also pretty sure Gabe was in trouble.

I took a deep breath, starting my car and backing out of my parking space. I tried to focus as I drove, but my mind was trying to move in a hundred different directions at once. I had absolutely no idea what was going to happen next. I was the man who
always
knew what was coming around the next bend because I was the man who orchestrated not only what was coming next but also where the bloody fucking bend would be in the road.

This could be bad.

I was almost shocked I managed to drive myself all the way to Trump Tower, and when I pulled into the valet lane, I glanced at my watch. I was late. Gabe was supposed to meet me in the lobby at four forty-five, and it was nearly five at this point. I quickly climbed out of my car and half jogged through the door as the doormen held it open for me.

Gabe looked up at me from the seating area just inside the doors. She was dressed in worn jeans that were distressed and frayed. Her fleece pullover was gray, and her shoes were black flats. Her book bag was at her feet and a duffel bag sat beside her chair. She looked absolutely adorable, even if out of place in the lobby of Trump Tower—most likely why she looked so nervous at the moment.

She glanced around, setting the magazine she’d been flipping through back on the coffee table.

She stood as I approached, and I leaned down to kiss her.

“You look incredible.” I cupped her cheek, staring at her.

She looked down at her clothes and then sheepishly around the large lobby. “I didn’t realize I’d be waiting. I’m feeling a little underdressed.”

“I’m sorry I’m late.”

She shook her head. “It’s okay.” Her eyes narrowed as her hand lifted to the side of my left eye. “What happened?”

I’d forgotten all about the fist to my face. I covered her hand with mine. “I’m fine. But we need to talk—”

“Keegan. Oh, there he is. Honestly, I didn’t think we’d ever get any assistance…”

I looked toward the sudden sound of that very recognizable voice, and I stopped breathing.

“Mom? Dad?”

Bang number four.

My parents walked away from the lobby desk toward us, the poor attendant watching after them in exasperation. Gabe’s hand that was inside my suit jacket clutching the side of my waist started to tighten.

My parents took in the sight of the young woman in my arms, and their eyes seemed to move in tandem down to the tattered and worn book bag at her feet. Their gaits slowed, and when their eyes moved back up, they settled on Gabe, narrowing suspiciously.

Gabe’s breath left her in a rush as her fingers started to tremble against my side.

“Surprise,” my mom said as they finally reached us, but her completely contrived smile fell from her lips, and she started eyeing Gabe again. Her lips were pursed, and her features frozen. I knew this look. I hated this look.

I had the sudden urge to take Gabe’s hand, drag her back out to my car, and drive off—away from the city, away from my parents, away from everything in this world. But I didn’t. Instead, I let my mom pull me away from Gabe and into a hug. My father shook my hand once my mother was finished with me, and when I turned back to Gabe, she was standing nervously by, rocking on the outsides of her feet.

I grabbed Gabe’s duffel bag and slung it over my shoulder. I picked up her book bag as well and started walking toward the elevators without another word. I was in shock, or I was angry, or…something. I ignored my parents, and they followed Gabe and me into the elevator.

I stood beside Gabe, facing my parents. They kept staring at her, her book bag that I’d set on the floor, the duffel bag that was rumpling my suit jacket—everything. They couldn’t seem to stop staring, and the expressions on their faces weren’t the least kind.

I finally cleared my throat. “Gabe, this is my mother, Patrice, and my father, Gerald. Mom, Dad, this is Gabrielle.” I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly and trying to calm myself down.

My parents nodded at Gabe, but they didn’t offer her a hand to shake.

“But you go by Gabe?” My mother’s head was cocked to the side as though curious, but it was bullshit.

Gabe started to nod.

“You know she does,” I snapped quickly. “I’ve already told you that.” My voice was cold.

Gabe looked nervously up at me.

“Where are you two staying?”

My mom managed to pull her eyes from Gabe, and she smiled. “Why, here of course. Our room is on the thirty-fourth floor.”

I took another deep breath. “I see.”

“Well, we asked the lobby receptionist to call your condo, but she acted like she’d never heard of you—”

“It’s not my condo, Mom. It’s being leased through my client. Furthermore, it’s not her job to track me down.”

“Perhaps if you’d returned my message…” my mother bit back.

“We didn’t realize you’d have company,” my father interjected, glancing at Gabe coolly.

“Really?” I reached for Gabe’s hand, squeezing it gently. “Because I’m pretty sure I told you I was dating Gabe when I was in D.C. last week, so I can’t imagine who you expected me to be spending my time with.”

Gabe glanced up at me, her eyes wide.

My mom looked at the bag slung over my shoulder, and then her eyes moved to Gabe. “I’m certain you said it was casual.” It was a cruel thing to say in front of Gabe, and I wasn’t the least surprised she’d be willing to say it.

I shook my head as my jaw clenched tightly, and I looked down at the floor to keep myself from saying something I’d regret. I glanced at Gabe beside me to see her lips pursed uncomfortably and her eyes staring at the ground. When the elevator doors opened, I leaned over, grabbing Gabe’s book bag from the floor. I walked out, pulling Gabe with me and ignoring my parents, who were following us down the hall.

This could not be happening. There was no way my parents would be able to stifle their opinion of my relationship with Gabe any better now than they had a few days prior, and there was also no chance they’d be pulling any punches just because Gabe was there. In fact, it was likely safer to say they’d be pushing the envelope because, well, that’s simply what they did.

My parents admired the view from the living room window once we were inside. Gabe seemed so uncomfortable, as though she had no business being there when, in truth, she had my every blessing to be there. It was my parents who did not.

My parents watched me over their shoulders as I carried Gabe’s bags into my bedroom, and when I returned to the large great room, I caught them staring coldly at Gabe for a moment before they returned their view out the window.

I touched Gabe’s lower back when I stepped up beside her. “I need to talk to you about something,” I said quietly because, despite the disaster of my parents showing up unannounced, I still had a potential crisis on my hands with Gabe. I stepped in front of Gabe, leaning back against the side of the dining room table and blocking her view of my parents. “But I need to wrap things up with—” I cocked my head over my shoulder toward my parents.

She nodded, but she was only barely looking at me and her expression was blank.

“I’m sorry.”

She shook her head dismissively, but she looked down quickly.

I studied her for a moment. She was being too quiet. Of course she was. She’d just heard my mom say I’d regarded her as “casual” mere days before, and I couldn’t refute that, nor had I said a damn thing to the contrary. I couldn’t. Not with them here because anything I might say they would somehow twist and use to their benefit. I needed them gone so I could deal with this mess. I leaned forward and kissed her forehead, and when I pulled back, I finally turned toward my parents, who were already watching us.

My dad walked around the living room couch, picking up the TV remote. He tuned into CNN, and then he glanced at me. I knew what he wanted before he even opened his mouth. “Do you have picture-in-picture?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know—”

“Need to see what’s on Fox too.” My father’s attention returned to the remote in his hand.

“You know I called you yesterday morning.” My mom walked slowly toward us, her arms crossed.

“I’m sure I was sleeping.”

“At ten o’clock?”

“We had a late night the night before, so yes, actually.”

“We?” Her eyes moved to Gabe, appraising her appearance judgmentally, and when she glanced down to Gabe’s jeans, her lips pursed haughtily as though she’d never seen anything quite like them.

Gabe glanced down at her clothes, and I died a little inside. They were going to emotionally torture her the way they did me, and that wasn’t something I was going to allow.

“Yes,
we
,” I finally responded. “Listen, is there a reason why you’re here? I mean, I did just see you four days ago.”

“I take it you didn’t listen to my message either. If you had, you’d have known we were coming for a visit.”

I shrugged but didn’t respond. I hadn’t listened to the message. I often ignored what my parents said to me because most of what they said pissed me the hell off.

“How are things going with David?” My father was still staring at the TV, even as he asked the question.

I said nothing for a moment, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself from looking at Gabe. I needed to have this conversation alone with her, but that wasn’t going to happen with my parents around. “I think things are pretty much…done with David.”

Gabe’s lips parted, and she instantly looked down to hide her shock.

“Oh?” My father meandered toward the dining room table where my mother, Gabe, and I were standing, though he kept glancing over his shoulder at the television. He didn’t like to be too far away from D.C. if he could help it.

“Yeah.” I turned my focus back to Gabe. “Things have gotten a little complicated with that.” I didn’t elaborate.

“Just as well,” my father continued. “I’m sure Consumer Alliance is anxious to get you back to D.C. and put you to work.”

Bang number five.

“Oh, that’s right,” my mother added with a smile.

“I spoke to Hale from Consumer Alliance just yesterday,” my father continued. “And he filled me in on the job. They’re endorsing McHenry, who supports their new finance-in-energy-security campaign. It’s a wonderful project for you to be involved in, Keegan,” he said as though I needed nothing else in the world but his approval.

Gabe’s focus snapped to me, and her eyes were wide as she stared. My chest tightened painfully.

“It’ll be wonderful to have you home.” My mother’s smile was too cruel, and her eyes flit smugly to Gabe, who was now staring at the top of the dining room table. “You’ve been here entirely too long. You belong in D.C. where your work is.”

I glared at my mother from the corner of my eye, and she shut up instantly. “I need to speak with Gabe. You and Dad should go. I’ll call you in a while.”

My mom looked at Gabe, her eyes narrowing as she focused on her, but then she shrugged mildly. “Very well. You two should come to dinner with Gerald and me tonight. I hear they have a Michelin two-star-rated restaurant downstairs.”