CHAPTER 1
Moonlit Meeting
Gabriela
To say I was bored out of my mind was an understatement.
Normally, parties were my scene. Especially those Shaun Jacobsen—the captain of the school’s hockey team—hosted in his luxurious downtown Montardor penthouse located near the campus.
After a strenuous week of classes and work, some good music and a few drinks always helped me unwind.
Tonight, the music was great, the drinks were strong, and the closed-invitation party’s crowd was packed with the familiar faces of my fellow peers, buzzing with heedless energy…and yet I wasn’t feeling it.
Maybe because my mamma texted me earlier this evening, asking me to come home to meet her new beau—the sixteenth one in four years—and it put a huge damper on my mood.
Mamma was a hopeless romantic and a serial dater.
There was a void inside her chest that she longed to fill since divorcing my papà.
The last text she sent me three hours ago said:
I want to be loved, Gabby. I want us to be a big, happy family again.
Mamma’s boyfriend, who was probably closer to my age than hers, wouldn’t be the one to complete our family. She didn’t realize that, despite her divorce from Papà, we were still a unit.
But Lucia Bellafiore was stubborn and forever wearing rose-tinted glasses. She was convinced that life had only the best to offer her and was continuously on a hot pursuit for domestic bliss. It was admirable but exhausting.
I didn’t have the heart to tell her that Lady Luck wasn’t always on her side.
If she were, Mamma wouldn’t have fallen in love with a mob man, wouldn’t have gotten pregnant with me, and wouldn’t have ended up in her current predicament: lonely and missing her ex-husband.
At least Papà deposited a good chunk of money in our bank accounts every month to ensure we had enough food on the table, to house the nice roof over our heads, to afford my expensive schooling, and to sustain Mamma’s and my shopping habits.
But otherwise, he kept a respectable distance, dropping in periodically to check on us.
And unfortunately, I could see this new disaster—Mamma and her boytoy—waiting to crash like a train wreck. Just like all the other men. She’d introduce us, we’d all get along momentarily, and then he’d discard her like trash.
Once she was patched up, we’d ride this merry-go-round all over again.
I was so tired of the same mistakes, of picking up her broken pieces, and of the fact that I couldn’t break her out of this pattern and push her in the direction of the one she really wanted. My papà. Her first and only real love.
Sighing, I brought my drink to my lips to down the remainder of my spiked fruit punch before my gaze unceremoniously connected with a familiar pair of dark eyes.
My gut tightened.
The other reason why I wasn’t feeling it tonight?
Tom Prescott was here.
He was a second-year English major at Vesta University and one of the football players on the team.
Up until recently, we had a short-lived, no-strings-attached, friends-with-benefits arrangement.
But he ended it two days ago. In hindsight, I wasn’t heartbroken or devastated.
Tom was a shitty lay and only knew how to fuck in one position: with me doing all the work on top.
Not to mention, I was a commitment-phobe. My motto was love ’em and leave ’em.
I was always the first one to end it.
So the fact that Tom beat me to it kind of bruised my ego.
To add insult to injury, he left me for none other than Morgan Huxley—one of my peers from the Women in Business Student Association—after sending me a simple text message that said, Hey, I’m done with you and I’ve found better.
Now Tom and Morgan were eating each other’s faces just metres away from me on the dance floor like it was their last supper. It was gross and disturbing.
Tom even had the audacity to wink at me mid lip-lock while Morgan shot me a smug expression like winning his attention was an accomplishment. Ew. To both.
From the minute I joined the Women in Business Student Association, Morgan’s had some sort of one-sided rivalry with me.
I was uncertain why my presence vexed her when all I’d ever done was occasionally give her a smile during our weekly team meetings when I caught her staring at me or CC her in one of my work-related emails.
Though maybe she disliked me because I got the position she was vying for—finance coordinator—and now she was annoyed.
Regardless of the reason, Morgan was continuously rude during our team meetings.
Cutting me off. Giving me the stink eye.
Sighing exasperatedly when it was my turn to speak.
Dry humping my sloppy seconds at parties was also getting added to the roster.
As for Tom? I regretted giving the jackass the time of day.
If Papà were here right now, he’d hand me his loaded gun and demand I finish off Tom like the last slice of my nonna’s tiramisu. Though tempting, I wouldn’t want his blood on my conscience.
Therefore, I settled on the best course of action: removing these two idiots from my vision.
My drink was done anyway and I could use a refill, alongside some fresh air.
Cutting through the horde of bodies crowding the makeshift dance floor, I earned a couple of curious glances as I sauntered to the open bar setup in the corner of the room, their attention straying down my body in an appreciative once-over.
My dark red hair fell down my back in waves. My lashes were layered with thick coats of mascara. And my black dress had enough cutouts to bare my ribs, waist, back, and cleavage. I wasn’t shy or modest. I knew I looked good tonight.
I returned a few flirtatious smiles to the boys on the hockey team before grabbing myself another spiked fruit punch and wandering onto the empty terrace.
The September night was warm, with a starless sky, a luminous moon the only light.
A soft breeze cooled my skin as I walked towards the balustrade and placed my cup on the limestone surface.
My phone buzzed at that exact moment and I pulled it out of my heart-shaped clutch encrusted with rhinestones.
A flurry of messages populated the group chat with my two best friends, Anna and Layla.
The first message was a selfie of Layla and her boyfriend, Josh, having dinner at a popular Mexican restaurant with another couple slash friends of ours, Ella and Cade.
Hope you’re all having a good night Miss you both! —Layla
The second was a picture of a light pink bustier top on a mannequin, stitched with gold threading, freshwater pearls, and ornamental chains. It was so beautiful that I was speechless as I soaked in the artistry.
What do we think? It’s still a WIP. —Anna
Anna was a creative genius and a fashion designer in the making.
Her style was opulent with a hint of scandal.
All of her creations contained lush fabrics and were embroidered with intricate patterns that made you feel like a million dollars.
One day, she was going to be a Canadian powerhouse. We just knew it.
Omg! Anna, this is gorgeous. I want one. —Layla
I started typing up my replies.
Hi I miss you all! The party’s no fun without my girls. —Gabby
Anna, that is stunning. For yourself or a commission? —Gabby
Also, I want one too!! —Gabby
Thank you, beauties It’s for myself. Next time we hang out, I’ll take both of your measurements and see what I can do. —Anna
And I miss you both too. Are we still good for brunch tomorrow? xo —Anna
We always did brunch on the weekends. It was our thing.
I’d known these girls since our childhood days because our moms were friends.
And although we were busier than ever with sophomore year of undergrad and various priorities, we still made time for each other.
I firmly believed that showing up for the people you loved and cared for constantly was what kept relationships running like a well-oiled machine.
Once we confirmed our plans, I pocketed my phone and my posture deflated like a sagging helium balloon as a bout of loneliness slotted into my system.
There was a time when Anna used to join me for nights out like these, but that was before she got hurt in one of the worst ways possible.
Now she was a bit more introverted like Layla.
She would rather get lost in one of her sewing projects and Layla would rather get lost in her art or one of her culinary adventures.
Then there was me.
I never liked being alone.
Not when I was a kid and certainly not as an adult.
Perhaps I was more like my mamma than I thought. There was a void in my chest that needed filling too. And I filled it. With pointless parties, pointless men, pointless interactions.
I tried to stay a busy bee with school, work, and social commitments. Otherwise, my head got too loud and I didn’t always like my own thoughts. Clearly, I had mommy and daddy issues—amongst many others like a seasoned magazine—but no will to truly work on them.
Sometimes I wished I were more like Anna and Layla. They were extremely comfortable in their own presence and silence. Me? I was needy. I had to be surrounded by people.
“This sucks,” I muttered to myself. Being here without my friends, seeing my ex-fling with my current peer, and doing my utmost best not to let all these irritating thoughts cripple me mentally.
Maybe I should consider offing Tom for having the audacity to humiliate me with Morgan. It would be one less thing to mull over…
Seconds later, a man’s deep voice intoned from behind me, “What sucks?”
“Oh my God!” I flinched, nearly knocking my drink off the balustrade.
Hearing a chuckle in response, I whirled around, trying to find the source of the sound. A tall figure cloaked in darkness stood in the corner of the terrace, not close enough for me to properly see his characteristics.
“Give a girl a warning, would you?” I narrowed my eyes. “It’s not nice to spy on people.”