Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
marlowe
“ T hanks for the ride,” i say gratefully to my classmate as we approach the house on Wednesday evening.
“It’s no trouble at all. I hope Valeria’s car repairs won’t be too expensive. My car needed a new transmission last year, and my bank account is still crying.” Neeraj looks around the sprawling estate and whistles in amazement. “So this is how the one percent lives, huh?”
A small, rueful smile is my only response.
He pulls up in front of the stone steps and peers up at the mansion with an awed expression. “I can’t believe you live here with Pantheon’s CEO.”
Not sure how much longer that’ll be the case , I think glumly . Gunner and I have barely spoken since our argument on Sunday night. I’ve been in limbo, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It’s an excruciating feeling that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.
I force a cheerful smile. “Thanks again for the ride, Neeraj. I’ll see you in class next week.”
“You bet.” He smiles, dark eyes gleaming. “If you ever need another study partner, I’m really good at research.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Giving him one last smile, I climb out of the car and head up to the house.
“Marlowe, wait!”
I turn to watch as Neeraj jogs up the front steps with my backpack.
“You forgot this in the backseat.”
“Oh, crap. Yeah, I’ll definitely need that.” I take the backpack from him with a sheepish grin. “Thanks again.”
“No problem.” He winks and then jogs back down the steps just as Gunner arrives home.
My palms break into a nervous sweat as he emerges from the backseat of the car in a dark gray suit, jacket unbuttoned with no tie. With his phone pressed to his ear, he flicks a glance at Neeraj.
I cringe as my classmate grins like a starstruck teen and calls out, “Hey, how’s it going, Mr. Ransom? I brought your lovely lady home, safe and sound.”
Gunner nods coolly before shifting his attention to me. The look in his eyes makes nerves dance in my belly.
As he starts up the steps toward me, I mouth Hi so as not to disrupt his conversation.
He presses the mute button on his phone and kisses me briefly on the forehead. “New friend?”
“Classmate.” I wave goodbye to Neeraj and follow Gunner inside.
Mr. Leland greets us with his usual polished reserve. “Your luggage is packed and ready to go,” he informs Gunner, who nods distractedly and thanks him.
My heart pinches at the reminder that he’s leaving for Germany to attend a tech conference. I would have been playing hooky tomorrow to travel with him, but he rescinded the invitation shortly after our big fight in his office last week. He reasoned that it probably wasn’t a good idea for me to skip class after all. To hide my hurt, I agreed with him.
But in my weakest moments, when my insecurities are wreaking havoc on my mind, I jealously wonder if he found someone else to accompany him on his trip. Someone like Gianna.
I tamp down the thought as he starts across the foyer. “I was thinking we could eat dinner in the garden since it’s such a nice evening.”
“Not tonight,” he says over his shoulder. “I need to finish some paperwork before I leave in the morning.”
“Oh. Okay.” I swallow my disappointment and smile brightly at his retreating back. “Maybe when you get?—”
“Sorry, babe. I have to wrap up this call.” He presses the mute button again, resuming his phone conversation as he walks down the hall and disappears around the corner.
Mrs. Calder appears at the top of the staircase, fastening on a pair of earrings. “Hello, dear. How was class?”
“Good.” I smile as she descends the stairs. “You look nice. Is that a new dress?”
“This old thing? Heavens, no. I’ve had it forever. I’m sure you’ve seen it before.”
I haven’t, but I know better than to contradict her. “Hot date?”
“Just having dinner with Dale. Nothing to make a fuss about.” But the faint blush on her cheeks is a dead giveaway.
“You kids have fun,” I say with a sly grin.
“We always do.” Her smile dims when she gets a closer look at me. “How are you, Marlowe?”
“I’m fine,” I say quickly—too quickly. “Just a little tired. Been doing lots of research for a paper that’s due soon.”
She nods slowly, but I know she’s not buying my excuse. Pursing her lips, she glances in the direction Gunner had gone and then turns back to me, studying my face for an uncomfortably long moment.
“I know you and Gunner have been going through a rough patch lately. No, don’t deny it,” she gently chides when I open my mouth. “Just because I stay out of your business doesn’t mean I’m clueless. Nothing happens under this roof that I don’t know about. And what I know, my dear girl, is that you’re just as miserable as he is.”
Tears burn my eyes and clog my throat, but I hold them back.
She cups my cheek in her hand, her touch exuding a comforting maternal warmth. “Things are complicated between you and Gunner, and there may be many more difficult times ahead. But as much as you’re hurting right now, please believe me when I tell you that everything will work out in the end.”
“I wish I shared your optimism,” I mumble.
She gazes at me with gentle sympathy. “Ransom men are notoriously easy to love and hard to forget. Once you give them your heart, they don’t ever give it back. They hold onto it, maybe selfishly, and it gets a little bumped and bruised along the way. But when a Ransom man loves you, he loves ferociously and with all his might. And he loves for a lifetime.”
Her words are a soothing balm on my battered emotions. I close my eyes, bowing my head as a few errant tears escape.
When she draws me into a warm hug, it’s all I can do not to break down sobbing in her arms. She holds me close, rubbing comforting circles on my back until a buzzing sound erupts from the depths of her large purse.
She lets out an exasperated sigh and releases me to retrieve her phone, rolling her eyes when she checks the screen. “Hold your horses, Dale. I’m coming,” she huffs, texting him back with freshly manicured fingers. “Impatient old coot.”
Despite my misery, I can’t help grinning.
Mrs. Calder gives me a ruefully apologetic look. “I’d better go before he hotwires a car and hightails it over here.”
My grin widens. “Has he ever done that before?”
She snorts. “This is Dale Ransom we’re talking about. What hasn’t he done?”
I laugh, thoroughly charmed as usual. “Give him my best.”
“Will do, dear.” She pats my cheek and winks at me before sailing out the door.
I lock up behind her, then take a deep breath and head down the hall in search of Gunner.
I find him in the library, standing next to the bookshelves on the far side of the room. He’s looking down at an open book in his hands, his straight hair falling over his forehead.
Steeling my nerves, I square my shoulders and advance into the room. “Looking for something to read on the trip? Don’t tell me you’ve already finished Klara and the Sun ?”
“Almost,” he murmurs without glancing up from his book. “Is something wrong with the Range Rover?”
“Not at all.” I keep my tone light. “Valeria and I had to meet some classmates for a group project, so we rode to class together. Afterward her car wouldn’t start and had to be towed. Neeraj was kind enough to give us a ride home.”
Gunner nods slowly and turns the page in his book.
“Please don’t tell me you’re mad,” I say, slightly exasperated. “Neeraj is just a classmate. I even rode in the backseat until Valeria was dropped off?—”
“I’m not mad.” There’s no inflection in his voice. “As you’ve often reminded me, I don’t own you. You can ride with whoever you want.”
Warning bells start clanging in my head.
“What’s going on, Gunner?” I blurt out, overcome with frustration.
He finally looks up at me. His eyes are hooded, his expression smooth as glass. “What do you mean?”
“You know damn well what I mean! How much longer are you going to ice me out?”
He calmly closes the large book and tucks it under his arm. Glimpsing the front cover, I see that it’s a collector’s edition artbook featuring famous abstract painters.
My skin goes cold.
Is he giving the book to Gianna? Are they going to snuggle in bed poring over the glossy pages, admiring the beautiful artwork and discussing artists that inspire her?
“I don’t want to fight with you.” His voice is low and measured. “If you’re looking for a fight, you won’t get it from me.”
“I’m not looking for a fight!”
“Then why are you shouting?”
His reasonable tone only makes me feel hysterical. “Why are you acting like this, Gunner? Do you get off on torturing me?”
He stares at me, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “ I’m torturing you ?”
“You know you are! And it’s driving me—” I flinch when he suddenly slams the book down on a table.
I watch as he prowls toward me, forcing me backward like frightened prey retreating from a much larger, more lethal predator.
When my back meets the opposite bookshelf, I bravely lift my chin. “You’re?—”
He grabs my face and crashes his mouth down on mine. The impact slams into me like a tsunami, tilting the ground beneath my feet. When I gasp, he thrusts his tongue into my mouth, and my entire body quakes from head to toe.
Plunging his hands into my hair, he kisses me almost violently. Impatient. Demanding. Furious.
I whimper his name, swamped in sensation, drowning in need. He bites at my bottom lip and licks into my mouth, his tongue lashing mine with ruthless strokes.
My head is spinning, my hands grasping for something to hold before landing on his shoulders. He presses me flat against the bookshelf until there’s no space left between us, and every breath I take is his.
Just when I think he’s going to devour me whole, his kiss gentles, becoming sweet and tender. The sudden shift fills me with a fierce rush of longing and I moan softly, tangling my fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.
He roughly breaks the kiss and stares down at me, both of us panting hard.
“Gunner . . .” I trail off helplessly.
Closing his eyes, he rubs his nose against my cheek and hair, breathing me in as if for the last time.
When I reach up to touch his face, he abruptly pulls away and steps back.
Dread sits like a stone in my stomach. Lifting trembling fingers to my bruised lips, I whisper, “Why did that feel like a goodbye kiss?”
His eyes darken before he looks away from me, staring at a point above my head.
“Gunner?” I can hear the quiver of fear in my voice, and I hate myself for it.
He pushes his hands through his hair to smooth back the thick strands, visibly pulling himself together before he meets my eyes.
I say quietly, “Can we talk about what’s happening here? Before you leave for your trip?”
I watch a mask slide over his face, as if he’s erecting an invisible wall between us.
I want to wrap my arms around him and hold him tight. I want to remind him of all the things we felt for each other back on Kauai. All the unforgettable moments we shared, waltzing under the moonlight, making love beneath the stars, talking until sunrise.
I want to remind him of every promise he made to me. But looking at his emotionless face renders me mute, unable to speak another word.
“Alan Whitmore wants to hire you.”
The sudden change of subject knocks me off kilter, and I stare at him in miserable confusion.
“He’s the CEO of a popular streaming service. I told him about you, and after reviewing your credentials, he wants to bring you onboard as their senior music curator. He’s offering you a great salary and benefits with a flexible work schedule. You have an interview on Friday morning, but it’s just a formality. The job’s yours if you want it.”
I shake my head slowly at him. “I don’t want your charity, Gunner.”
“This has nothing to do with charity. You have the right skills and qualifications?—”
“Which he only knows about because I’m your girlfriend.” I soften my tone, not wanting to sound ungrateful. “I appreciate your help, Gunner. Truly. But I’m not interested.”
“Don’t be a fool,” he growls in frustration. “It’s a damn good opportunity.”
“I don’t doubt that. It sounds exciting. But I can’t accept the job. Not like this.”
He claws a hand through his hair, mussing it up again. “You’re being ridiculous and tiresomely stubborn.”
“So now I’m tiresome?”
“Right now, yes, you fucking are!”
I jab an accusing finger at the glossy artbook on the table. “Are you giving that to Gianna? Is she your new ingénue, Gunner? Are you replacing me with a younger, shinier model?”
He spears me with a dark look. “I’m not doing this with you anymore.”
His ominous words make my stomach knot up.
“Don’t you see what’s happening here?” I tell him, trying to control my rising panic. “You’re giving Harlan exactly what he wants, Gunner. Ever since I saw him that day at the café, you’ve been pulling away from me. He wanted to cause division between us, and you’re letting him?—”
“No, you did that,” Gunner snaps.
My eyes hurt from holding my tears at bay. But I look at him resolutely and say, “I’m not leaving, Gunner, and I’m not quitting this job.”
“I’ll make it easy for you then. You’re fired.”
I suck in a breath as if he’d punched me in the stomach. “ What? ”
“You heard me. Your services are no longer required.”
“My . . . services? ” I repeat through bloodless lips. “I’m in love with?—”
“I’m leaving for Germany tomorrow,” he coldly cuts me off, without a trace of emotion. “I’ll expect you gone when I get back.”
His words run through me like a sword, bringing a rush of tears and a fresh surge of anger. “You’re pushing me away because you’re unwilling or incapable of committing to a serious relationship. I feel sorry for you.”
His blue eyes turn to flinty ice. “I’ll put your severance check in the mail tomorrow. I trust you can pick it up at your previous address?”
Gathering my tattered pride around me, I lift my chin. I won’t beg even though I’m dying inside. “That’s fine.”
He nods curtly. “Goodbye, Marlowe.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Ransom.” I match his icy tone. “Wherever I end up working next, I hope I’ll have much better luck with my new boss.”
Something like regret flickers in his eyes before they harden again. He rakes me with one last dismissive glance, then grabs the artbook and stalks out the door.
I stand frozen in shock, unable to believe what just happened. As the shock gradually turns into raw anguish, I sag back against the bookshelf with a choked sob.
Just like that, the fairytale is over.