My Gigolo (15 page)

“Because I know everything. You’re either worried that you’re getting attached to a male prostit—” She broke off, glad Ivy was too young to know the full word and repeat it later in mixed company. “To someone you can’t have, or you’re panicking because you’re afraid that you’re risking your precious independence by letting this guy stay with you a couple of weekends a month. Right?”

Silence. She folded Ivy into her pajamas, then sat her on the closed toilet lid to brush out the curls while they were still wet and manageable.

“How do you do that?”

“How long have I known you, kiddo?”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t rub it in.”

She smiled, the expression turning into a grin when her little girl bared all of her baby teeth in a return smile.

“Gabe, I’m going to give you a piece of advice. I learned it the hard way, and I have no doubt that you will ignore it and learn it the hard way yourself, but I feel obliged to tell you anyway. Ready?”

“Get on with it.”

“The more you fight against something, the more it crushes you when it wins.”

“That’s…damn depressing.”

She shrugged and kissed Ivy on the forehead. “But it’s true. Hang on a second, will you?”

“Sure.”

Leaning out the bathroom door, she looked up the hallway. “Darren? Come get Ivy, will you? She needs a story before bed.”

Her husband appeared, stole a kiss and disappeared with their second-born giggling over his shoulder. She watched them go with a smile.

“Okay. Where was I?”

“Depressing me.”

“Right.” She leaned back against the sink. “You do realize that it’s all right to give up a firmly held position, don’t you? That you can change your mind without losing face?”

“God, I’m stubborn, not stupid.”

“Sometimes it’s hard to tell the two apart.”

“Nice. Thanks. I’m so glad I called.”

She chuckled. “Don’t get all flustered. I’m just asking why this is a bad thing.”

“Mike, he’s a male prostitute. For God’s sake, you bought him for me.”

“So?”

She’d have paid money to see the expression on her little sister’s face right now. She could almost picture it.

“He’s the last person I should have an epiphany over.”

Despite her amusement, she winced. Hadn’t she used similar words when Jack called her the first time? Oh, the irony.

“Why?”

“Because! Good grief, do I really have to explain? He would never be
mine
. If I did like him that way, I wouldn’t want to share him with anyone, and I’d have to every day. And if, God forbid, he liked me back, he’d feel like he had to give up his job to be with me. Then he’d hate me for it later, and it’d be a huge mess.”

In a way, Gabe was right. Mike knew her sister would never ask someone to give something up because of her. What would she do if she knew Jack had already given up his profession, just for the chance to get close to her?

Suddenly, Mike was glad she’d agreed not to tell. What a mess. “You may be right. I guess I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

“I know I’m right.” But Gabe didn’t sound happy about the admission. “That’s the problem.”

Frowning, she wondered how to fix the situation. Gabe had a valid point about the possibility of resentment down the road, but Jack wanted to be with her and had already given up so much, had made so many strides.

But in Mike’s mind, there was no contest. “Maybe you should stop seeing him and start seeing someone else.”

“I don’t want anyone else.”

It was almost the same thing Gabe always said, but this time, it just about broke Mike’s heart. Her little sister—her own child in so many ways—sounded so forlorn. She no longer wanted no one. Now, she wanted no one but Jack.

“Oh, kiddo. This is all my fault.”

“How is it your fault?”

“I meddled.”

“You always meddle.” A weak chuckle. “It usually works out better than this, though.”

She pushed away from the sink and slowly headed down the hallway, one hand on the phone and one in her jeans pocket. “Is he interested in, you know, dating you?”

“No.”

She frowned. “How do you know?”

Gabe sighed. “I guess I should say I don’t know. How would I? He’s a professional charmer. Sometimes I think he does like me a little more than as a safe haven, but it’s usually just wishful thinking. He does nice things for me, but…” She trailed off.

“How does he make you feel?”

A long pause made her wonder if her sister would answer.

“I don’t know. Scared, maybe.”

“Of him?”

“Of course not.”

“Help me out.”

“Of…myself. Of the future. I told you; I don’t know.”

Darren sat on the edge of the bed reading to the girls. Mike leaned against the doorframe and bit at her lower lip. What could she say? She hated not knowing what to do. She’d only wanted Gabe to realize that being in a relationship didn’t take away from her as a person. No, she’d just wanted her sister to loosen up a little and have some fun with a guy who wasn’t her friend. How had such a simple plan gone wrong?

She turned away from the comfortable scene before her and headed back toward the bathroom, her steps dragging. “Gabe, I don’t know how to make you feel better. I wish I could. I wish I could tell you what to do like I used to when it was just us. But I can’t.”

“Why not?”

She smiled at the near-whine. “Because you’re twenty-eight years old and falling in love with a gigolo. That’s a little beyond my expertise.”

“I’m not falling in love with him.”

Her smile turned to a smirk. “Coulda fooled me.”

“This isn’t funny.”

“Another piece of advice: in ten years, everything’s funny. I gotta go.”

“Mike, don’t you dare hang up on—”

She flipped the phone closed. She had no idea if she’d made things better or worse, but she’d at least made her too-stubborn sister think.

Conveniently enough, she’d also bought herself some time to come up with a plan. Jack obviously needed help getting around Gabe’s defenses. He’d made more progress than she would have thought, but it wasn’t enough. Sure, Mike had been all but horrified at the idea of her little sister dating a male prostitute, but that was before he’d changed. And before she’d heard that pitiful note in Gabe’s voice as she admitted that she wanted him.

He just needed a push. Something to detract from Gabe’s admittedly reasonable concern. Something to make her more comfortable with him than with anything else so she’d have to lean on him. Something to prove to her that leaning on him wouldn’t be a weakness.

Something…
embarrassing
.

June

“Want some lunch?”

“Can’t.” Typing fast, Gabe kept her eyes glued to the screen so she wouldn’t lose her place. “I’m going with Doug and Phil. Thanks, though.”

“Lemme guess. The sports bar?”

Damn, there went her place. Too bad she couldn’t manage a scowl, what with a grin pushing it away. Giving up on work and shooting a not-quite-irritated look at her friend, she nodded.

“Where else? Sullivan’s has the best pub fries in the world.”

“Have fun.” Cheryl winked as she turned to leave. “And tell that hunk Phil that I said hi.”

Gabe chuckled and saved her progress. She was actually glad of the interruption because otherwise, she’d have worked right though lunch. Mr. Donnigan had won his trial, but all the closing paperwork still needed to be done, and she was one of only three people in the firm who knew how to do it.

She glanced at the clock. Five minutes late even if she hurried, so she might as well take her time. Besides, Sullivan’s was only two blocks away, and she could probably be late back to work without turning any heads. The lawyers were all coasting on the satisfaction of a positive jury verdict, so they currently felt no urge to yank the reins.

After a leisurely amble in the crisp, pleasantly warm, late spring weather to her favorite pub and grill, she stepped into the blare of ’80s rock and the pungent aroma of hot grease and old smoke with a smile. After acclimating her eyes to the semi-dark, she looked around for either straight blonde hair or a darkly gleaming bald head. She really shouldn’t have bothered searching. Her friends sat at the usual table in the corner, frowning down at menus. Doug smoked. Phil didn’t.

“Hey, guys.”

Doug looked up and waved her over, his cigarette leaving a trail of smoke. “It’s about time. What, did the slave driver need just one more letter transcribed before lunch?”

“He’s not a slave driver. He’s just…thorough.”

Phil snorted, not looking up from his list of potential foods. “If thorough means single-mindedly bent on getting what he wants in hand the instant he wants it, then yeah. He’s thorough.”

She grinned and stole Doug’s menu, waving smoke away from her face. “I think that’s actually the definition of a lawyer.”

Doug’s cell phone chirped, and he groaned, sliding off his chair-backed bar stool and putting out his cigarette. “I don’t even have to look. Excuse me for a minute, guys.”

Finally looking up, Phil rolled his eyes. “She so has him by the short hairs.”

“Oh, yeah.” She watched Doug head for the bathroom. “How is Karen, anyway?”

“Well groomed.” Phil rarely minced words in his opinion on Doug’s penchant for floofy females. “I think she’s getting a manicure today, God help us. Did he tell you about how she casually pissed off his mom this weekend?”

Her eyes widened. “What did she do?”

“Complimented her on her bold use of garlic in the family dinner. According to her, the flavor was so strong she could smell it coming up the street.”

“She didn’t.”

“She did. Doug just laughed, of course, but his mother was livid.”

“I imagine so.” She shook her head. “And what about you? Still mackin’ on that girl from the accounting pool?”

He cleared his throat. “Not exactly. I do think she knows I exist now, though. I kinda dumped my coffee on her this morning.”

She snickered. “You do know how to make an impression.”

“Silk blouse, too. I offered to pay for it, though.”

“That’s a big step up for you. I’m proud.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re one to talk. How’s your guy?”

She blinked, her laughter dying in her throat. “What guy?”

“Puh-leeze.” His dark eyes narrowed with speculation. “I can even tell when he’s been down. For instance, I know he wasn’t down this weekend or the weekend before, but he
was
here the weekend before that. However, I also know that you weren’t as glowy as you were when he was up a couple of weekends before that one. So I repeat: how’s your guy?”

She sputtered. Luckily, Doug trudged back to the table, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

“That woman can’t decide on the color of her underwear without a second opinion.”

“Thank you for sharing that.” Picking up his menu, Phil returned to his heavy perusal. “Instead of creeping us out with your über-dependent girlfriend’s panty preferences, why don’t you do something useful and make Gabe talk about this guy she keeps hiding from us.”

So Doug’s return wasn’t lucky, after all. He pulled out another smoke and lit up.

“Yeah, about this guy—”

Her phone rang, the familiar tune cutting through Doug’s likely uncomfortable interrogation and drawing groans from both of her friends.

“Just change it already, Gabe.”

“Never.”

Relieved beyond words to escape such torture, she snatched her cell from her purse and headed for the bathroom. Halfway there, she looked down at the number and froze. Jack. Damn it all. She still didn’t know what to do about him. Hesitant now, she reluctantly pushed receive and dragged her feet toward the bathroom.

“Hello?”

“Gabe? What’s all that noise?”

“I’m at lunch. It’s a sports bar. They play their music loud.”

“Obviously. Am I interrupting?”

Yes. “Not really. I haven’t ordered yet, but I’m sure Phil knows what to order for me.”

“Ah.” He paused, and she pushed through the bathroom door into the mixed blessing of bathroom silence. “I won’t keep you long. I was just wondering what you’re doing the weekend after next.”

She hid a sigh of relief. “That’s Ivy’s birthday, and I promised Mike I’d—” Cutting herself off just in time, she cleared her throat. “Um…be there. Early.”

Smooth.

“Oh. Okay. Then, are you free this weekend?”

She desperately wanted to say no. She racked her brain for any possible excuse, but her mind emptied of useful information.

“Gabe?”

“I…well…you know, I…”

“Have plans?”

“Sure.”

He made a noncommittal noise in his throat. “That’s…nice, I guess. What are they?”

“My plans?” She wanted to smack herself on the forehead so bad. “I…well, me and Phil and Doug…and Karen, of course…planned to…”

“It’s all right. You don’t have to tell me.” He sounded strangely disappointed, and she felt like a jerk. “It’s none of my business. Have fun, and I’ll call you after you get back from your sister’s.”

She groaned. “Jack…”

“Yeah?”

Sighing, she leaned back against the bathroom door. “We’re going to the movies.” She could arrange that. It wouldn’t be a lie then. “We’ll probably catch some dinner first. Nothing big.”

“Sounds like fun.” His voice was wistful. “Have a good time.”

“We will.” She wanted to kick herself. Avoiding him wouldn’t make anything any clearer, but seeing him probably wouldn’t help, either. “I’ll look forward to hearing from you.”

She sounded stiff and formal, and she hated it. She already missed the banter. It’d been nearly three weeks since she’d heard from him, but she hadn’t missed him until he called and she pushed him away. Just great.

“Hey, wait a minute.” His tone perked up. “You remember that favor you owe me?”

“What favor?”

He snorted. “Da Bears?”

“Oh, God.” Rolling her eyes, she turned to lean her shoulder against the door, crossing her free arm under her breasts. “Don’t tell me—”

“Yup. I think I’ll be calling in that boon, milady.”

“Jaaaaack…”

“C’mon, Gabe. I want to meet your friends.”