Chapter 6
ELIJAH
Fashion Week is in full swing, and Alex and I have barely seen each other.
He’s been on the go morning, noon, and night, hopping from show to show and squeezing in as many fashion events as he can.
I wish I could join him, but this is one of Bourbon Bar’s biggest nights of the year, and I like to personally welcome our guests and make sure everyone is having a good time.
After stacking the last of the glassware under the bar, I wipe my hands on the dishtowel and think back to my conversation with Alex.
I’m disappointed he showed no interest in having Noah join us in bed.
I think he would have enjoyed a threesome—Gabriel certainly did—but that was our thing.
I have to keep reminding myself that Alex isn’t like Gabriel.
And I don’t even know if Noah would have gone for it anyway.
Still, something tells me he would have been willing.
The attraction between them is obvious. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.
“Elijah,” Emilio calls over. “Nate and Daniella just arrived, so we’ve got the bar covered. You’ve been working nonstop. Why don’t you take a break, my friend?”
I look up and grin, feeling truly lucky to have him, not just as my employee, but as a friend. “Gracias, amigo. Ana and Emilee should be arriving shortly. Could you whip up something fruity for them?”
“No worries. I’ve got it covered. I have the perfect nonalcoholic drink in mind,” he says, wiping down the bar with a joyful flourish.
The girls are stopping by for a brief visit before meeting Alex for the finale of New York Fashion Week. He’ll be on stage with Marc Jacobs as they bring the iconic week to a close.
I step outside just as Steven pulls the limousine into the lot. He throws me a peace sign over the steering wheel while circling to the back of the building.
My phone rings. I switch it to speaker before answering.
“Hola, Gabriel.”
“Elijah, mi amor. How is our handsome fashion model? He’s had a busy week, sí?”
Gabriel’s infatuation with Alex is almost comical—he clearly enjoys busting Alex’s chops, though it’s as mildly disturbing as it is entertaining. For Alex, adjusting to Gabiel’s antics has been… well, a massive undertaking.
“I’ve seen him in the tabloids more this week than I have in my own home,” I gripe.
Gabriel chuckles. “Ana’s so excited about tonight’s event. I wouldn’t be surprised if she steals the whole show. You know our daughter, Elijah—pretty sure she’s outdressed everyone there.”
“Oh, I have no doubt,” I say with a laugh, checking the time.
NYFW is known for its ultra-chic—and sometimes downright funky—outfits, so I’m fully prepared for whatever Ana and Emilee have chosen. Emilee’s dad is a fashion model, after all.
Enjoying the fresh air, I lean back against the building.
“They should be arriving any minute. Steven’s already waiting in the car, and Emilio’s putting together something sweet and sugary.”
“Just what they need,” Gabriel grumbles, though I can hear the smile in his voice. His happiness is contagious, so I give him even more reason to grin.
“Alex and I are looking forward to meeting your boyfriend next Saturday. Come around seven. And don’t play games and come alone, Gabriel—make sure he comes too. Alex has been looking forward to him coming all week.”
“Is that so?” he preens. “First of all, Elijah, I never come alone… as you well know.”
I shuffle some pebbles with my shoe, waiting for the rest.
“And if Alex is that eager for my boyfriend to come, I’m sure I can arrange it. He’s wonderful to watch when he—”
“Jeeesus, Gabriel.”
“Oh, Elijah, lighten up.”
The way he wraps his tongue around English has always driven me crazy. Sexiest sound ever, honestly. It just goes to remind me how much Gabriel prides himself on that damn tongue.
“The things I do to him with my tongue…” he teases because of course he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
“Gabriel…” I groan.
“You remember how talented my tongue is, sí? You used to enjoy it, mi amor.”
“Used to.” I chuckle because he’s just being silly. “I’m sure your boyfriend’s enjoying that fringe benefit of dating you by now. Now, if you can please control your mouth around Alex, I’d really appreciate it.”
“And ruin the fun? Never,” he hoots, and I shake my head. “There’s far too much enjoyment to be had with my mouth. And my Speedo, by the way… or lack thereof—as you so blatantly requested.”
This is typical Gabriel misbehavior, so his sass doesn’t bother me at all. Chuckling, I take him off speaker and bring the phone to my ear.
“Listen, love, I need to get back inside.”
“Finally, I agree with you. I miss you being there too… inside, that is.”
I roll my eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Gabriel. We’ll see you next Saturday. And for the love of God, clean up that dirty mouth.”
I hang up before he can remind me again just how much I used to enjoy it.
That’s what I miss most about my ex-husband—his unapologetically filthy humor.
And, of course… his tongue.
“Daaaaad…”
“Hey girls!” I swivel as the door flies open and Emilee and Ana come bouncing in—and holy Jesus, I am not prepared for my daughter’s idea of “all out.”
I nearly choke on an ice cube, coughing it back into my glass of Kahlúa. The splash sends a dark arc over the rim. Gabriel did warn me, but still… this?
Needless to say, she’s beautiful—alarmingly so. Alarming being the keyword.
A caramel-colored dress clings to her frame, falling all the way to her ankles. Dark stitching runs through the fabric like wood grain, and two shapes—baseball bats—cross at the chest. Embroidered across one, in rainbow thread, are the words: BATTING FOR THE OTHER TEAM.
My eyes shift to Emilee’s dress, which falls right in line with Ana’s—similar cut, same spirit. Hers is patterned with red-stitched baseballs, the phrase THAT’S HOW WE ROLL winding through the fabric in looping letters that perfectly complement Ana’s outfit.
For heaven’s sake.
“Dad?” Ana twirls, snapping me out of my befuddlement. It never fails to amaze me how much she takes after Gabriel. Where he wears his queerness with exuberant pride, she highlights it with her own fearless sense of style. You should see them during Pride month.
I place my glass down and clear my throat. “Emilee, are you comfortable with this… attire?” I wave my hand like a game show host presenting a prize.
“Of course, I am, G. We’re totally rocking this look.” Her buoyant smile mirrors my daughter’s. “This was all Ana’s idea,” she boasts proudly.
“Oh, I have no doubt it was, sweetheart.” I scrub my hands across my burning cheeks. “You both look beautiful,” I add, because, truthfully, they do.
“Marcello designed these.” Ana looks over her shoulder and waves to Emilio. I should have known my daughter would have something custom designed, but…
“Marcello isn’t a designer.”
“He is now.” Ana clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, cheeky grin in place, as I pull out two barstools.
“We’re making a statement,” Emilee chimes in, accepting the frothy cocktail Emilio hands her—rainbow umbrella included.
I do a double take.
When the hell did we get rainbow umbrellas?
Both girls clink their glasses, bubbling with excitement. I pull out my phone and snap their picture.
“So, are you girls going to an after-party with Alex later, or coming back here?”
Emilee tucks the umbrella behind her ear and answers nonchalantly. “Dad said he’s not attending any parties, but Ana and I are going to persuade him to take us to at least one.”
“No offense, Dad,” Ana says, straw between her lips, eyes sparkling. “But we definitely don’t want to come back here. You’re not exactly the most fun to be around—especially when you’re working.”
“Neither is my dad,” Emilee huffs out.
“But your dad is sooo popular and knows all of the hot models…”
“My dad doesn’t even let me talk to boys,” Emilee adds. “He’s definitely not going to let me hang out with them.”
“Then hang out with the girls. Have you seen them? They’re totally just as hot as the guys!” Ana takes another sip of her drink, clearly comfortable with either gender.
“Alright, girls.” I interrupt their chit-chat, resting a hip against the bar. “Finish your drinks. Steven’s waiting out back. Emilee, your dad said to meet him backstage after the show. You’re only allowed to leave with him. I don’t want you wandering the city this late with so many people around.”
“Great. So that means we’ll be going home. The only time Dad went out and had fun was when I was in Spain. Remember, Ana? He was drunk off strawberries.”
“Oh yeah, I remember.” Ana giggles. “Dad? Care to elaborate?” Her eyes sparkle, sending over that challenge.
I swallow, forcing a laugh, and take a slow sip of my drink, hoping it will steady the heat in my cheeks.
“I have no idea what you two are talking about.”