33. Gabe
GABE
“It was good to see you again, Gabe. I hope you’ll think about what I said.
” Doctor Morales stands next to her office door as I exit.
We met not long after I moved to New York.
Her hair has a touch of gray in it these days, and I’m not far behind in that arena.
I’m lucky she made space for me when I called.
“Of course,” I say noncommittally, then realize that’s part of the problem that has me seeing a therapist in the first place. “I will.”
No more shying away from the tough emotions and then spiraling. And I do like her idea of approaching the uncomfortable things like a software bug. That’s my language.
She offers an easy smile, then pushes the thick, black-rimmed glasses up her nose. “See you next week.”
I nod and head to the reception area where my security team waits. Alex isn’t playing around anymore, not that he ever was. And that makes the guilt even worse.
As we take the elevator down to the parking garage, I contemplate hitting the group text to let them know I’m seeing a therapist. They don’t need to learn this kind of thing from the tabloids.
This also feels like the sort of discussion that should happen in person. No more meltdowns or running away. As Doctor Morales says, everyone’s allowed to sulk and feel their emotions, but there’s a time to pull your shoulders back and get on with things.
And while I can’t change the past, I can move forward.
“To the office?” Tadhg confirms as we head toward the gleaming black SUV.
“Yeah.” Since I came back to the city three days ago, I’ve been camped at my office, only leaving to go to the gym and Doctor Morales’s office.
The long hours and hastily eaten meals remind me of the early days of building my company from the ground up.
Back before I’d made a name for myself. Before the money started rolling in. I was driven to prove myself.
Before Henry Chanler taught me that not everyone is as they seem.
In the back seat, I rub a hand down my jeans.
Some people, like Katherine and Kingston, are exactly as they seem.
Moving forward, I’m going to focus on that.
Here we are, almost two decades after that initial push and that drive.
That pressure is absent now. And the reward?
Keeping my mind busy is benefit enough, I guess.
The long hours and carryout containers are familiar, but the work feels…
hollow. Like I’m just going through the motions.
I don’t get to code as much as I used to.
These days, it’s never-ending meetings, reading reports, and making business decisions. All the boring parts.
I mean, I used to revel in that because I wanted to do it well. I wanted respect and yes, control.
Now… I’m not sure anymore. Except that I want more time with Alex, Katherine, and King.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I fish it out.
Alex: Vic says they’re letting people in to clean out refrigerators and pack a bag.
Well, that’s better than nothing, I guess.
Alex: Destiny is heading there now.
One less thing to worry about.
I run a hand along my jaw. Not knowing where Alex is right this minute feels wrong.
I was wrong. Honestly, if I could go back in time and eat those words before they rolled off my tongue, I would.
Not because my pain around Henry Chanler’s betrayal is trivial, but because I shouldn’t be keeping score with my best friend.
“Change of plans. Let’s head to my apartment. Apparently, they’re letting us in.”
Finally.
Tadhg nods and negotiates the craziness that is New York City traffic.
For the price I paid for that penthouse, I at least expected a phone call from the building manager. Maybe he’s been in touch with Alex. But I’m betting that Vic is going to sneak us in through a back door or something.
It pays to be nice to the so-called little guy.
Soon, we’re checking in with the gate guard and then navigating the labyrinth of the parking garage, which is emptier than I’ve ever seen it.
The space is cavernous, and the lack of activity feels super weird. Spooky, even.
Tadhg parks in our usual spot. There’s a crazy echo as we slam the vehicle doors, and he jabs the up button to call the elevator. At least a minute later, the doors open with a ding, and the sound reverberates off the concrete walls.
We’re a handful of floors off the ground when I realize this is the first time I’ve been back since King and I got stuck.
That day changed everything between us, but the metal box with its glowing panel of buttons looks exactly as it always has.
Still, I get the weirdest sense that day was a lifetime ago.
So much has happened between then and now.
Such a short period of time, and yet, by anyone’s measure, a massive change.
I stare at the numbers overhead, trying not to remember the darkness. Not because it scares me, but it reminds me of how scared King was. How we clung to one another. How our lips found each other in the dark and mated like we might, in fact, not make it off the elevator alive.
Once the elevator levels off and dings our arrival, I wait just inside the door of my apartment as my team does a sweep.
It’s not long before they’re back, Tadhg nodding the all clear.
The tall windows in the living room whisper to me, and I cross to them. Everything looks just like it did the last time I saw it. Tidy furniture, maybe a bit more dust. Outside, clouds dot the sky, skyscrapers loom, and the river continues flowing. Some things don’t change.
And some things do.
Heading for my bedroom, I grab my luggage and toss it on the bed. Jeans, socks, and t-shirts all go in without much rhyme or reason. There’s nothing new about this procedure. I mean, I normally don’t pack every suitcase I own at the same time. In fact, I can’t think of a time I ever have.
It’s the destination that hits different.
Pausing in my bathroom, I inhale the clean, zesty scent and let the soothing tones calm my frazzled nerves. My fingertips skim the polished countertop, and I’m taken back to the first time I felt Katherine’s silky smooth skin.
“One thing at a time,” I say to myself, then fish out my phone and type out a text to Alex. It’s time to start mending that fence.
Past time.
Gabe: I’m at the apartment. What do you want me to grab?
On our way to the elevator, I spot King’s little potted plant on the table. It looks like it managed okay, but who knows when we’ll be allowed in here again. I scoop it up and follow Tadhg onto the elevator.
I wonder how the rest of Katherine’s jungle has fared.
The doors swoosh closed, and the car begins to descend. Katherine’s keycard burns a hole through my wallet.
Making a snap decision, I swipe it, and the elevator stops at her floor.
“Change of plans?” Tadhg asks.
I shrug, trying to act cool, even though I’m out of sorts. Is this okay? We’re on rocky ground and there’s a lot that needs fixing.
“Thought I’d check on Katherine’s apartment.”
He gives a nod of understanding, and a silent conversation occurs between him and Isaac.
A wall of thick, musty air hits us when the doors open. Isaac clears his throat and takes the lead. There’s a low hum of noise, but the odor makes my eyes water.
We wade into the chaos. In between the living area and the kitchen, there’s a hole in the ceiling that looks like a gaping wound. Her area rug is green with what I’m guessing is the start of mold. There’s a fan working overtime, but it’s obviously not making much headway.
Stepping over the loose cord, I look around at the water damage and the wall of plants. To my untrained eye, several appear to be adoring the extra humidity. A handful of others droop down over the rim of their pot.
I move deeper into her space. She’s going to need total remediation if she decides to stay here. What shit timing. Honestly, if I hadn’t lived it, I’d think the last two and a half weeks were an elaborate prank. Or maybe the cosmos is playing tricks.
We’ll deal with the wild cacophony of dominoes later. First things first: save the living things.
Second: save anything else we can.
Opening the door to her terrace, I relish the breeze and fresh air. Over my shoulder, I ask, “What was the plant guy’s name?”
Tadhg checks his phone. “Simon.”
“Let’s get in touch with him. See if he can help out with,” I wave at the wall of vegetation, “this.”
He nods. “On it.”
I head to her closet to see if anything can be salvaged.
Everything in here is unscathed from the majority of the water. The flooring is warped, but the bed and furniture sit at least a few inches off the ground. Hopefully, any of the mildew smell can be washed out.
I text my assistant and ask him to head over. We’re going to need all the help we can get. Locating her luggage, I spread it across her bed and tell Tadhg we’re going to need another vehicle. Or two.
Stopping in her bathroom, I reach for her lotion bottle, flip the cap, and inhale. There it is. Katherine in a bottle. Sunshine and softness with a tiny hint of musk and floral. So complex… so… her.
I squeeze a little dollop into my palm and massage it into my skin. Cupping my hand over my nose, I breathe it in, eyes closing in relief. If I wasn’t already obsessed, I would be now that I no long have to smell the rank apartment.
Unfortunately, packing goes faster with both hands, and so I’m back at it, catching occasional whiffs. I squeeze in as many toiletries as I can, then move on to her clothes. She has a whole drawer of leggings, and my cock remembers exactly how her ass looked in that red pair.
Wiping that mental picture from my brain, at least for now, I grab a stack and toss them in the nearest suitcase.
“Gabe?”
I’m not sure I’ve ever been so relieved to hear my assistant’s voice. “In here.”
Adrian Chen pokes his head into the bedroom, eyes widening at the array of suitcases on the bed.
“What’s going on here?” He waves a hand at the chaos.
I rub the back of my neck. “I don’t even know anymore.”
He steps deeper into the room, giving everything a critical once-over. Which is why I hired him. He’s a problem solver to his core, detail-oriented and keeps my work life running like an oil-slicked machine. With a purse of his lips, he pulls out his phone and starts typing.
“You’re lucky the guy downstairs likes Miss Montgomery. He was giving some other guy a hard time.”
I’m instantly on alert. “Other guy?”
“Some sourpuss that lives on the fourth floor. Absolutely could not understand,” he circles Katherine’s bedroom, keen gaze noting all the details, “why they wouldn’t let him into his apartment.”
Relief trickles through me. Why did my brain immediately go into fight or flight?
Something to discuss with Doctor Morales next week.
Voices in the other room draw my attention. “The more we can get out of here, the better,” I tell Adrian, then head into the living room and find a barista-looking dude lifting a wilted leaf.
“It’s okay,” he croons to the sad plant. “Daddy’s here. We’ll get you fixed right up. An aloe bath and a bit of fertilizer?—”
He stops mid-sentence, glancing over at me.
“Simon?” Who else would be talking to a plant like it’s a kitten?
He straightens. “You must be Gabriel Rothburn.”
I can’t tell if he actually doesn’t recognize me or if it’s an act. Either way, I nod because I need his help. Katherine’s beloved collection needs his help.
“This is so dreadful.” He waves a hand at the ceiling and then hoists the potted plant up onto his hip as if it were a toddler.
“Yeah. It’s a mess. I was hoping you could help by moving Katherine’s plants.” Glancing at the one in his hands, I add, “Some of them need attention, and she’s away right now.”
He pauses from inspecting a leaf. “Where will they go?”
That’s a loaded question. And I’m not sure of the correct answer, so I go for diplomatic. “For now, a brownstone with a back garden that I think you’ll like.”
He perks up a tiny bit at that, then pulls a little flip phone from his pocket. “We’re gonna need boxes, carts, cars, and more hands.”
Clearly on a mission, he strides past me and investigates another shelf of foliage as he makes a phone call. “Bonnie, bring the van. Kat’s place is tragic. And boxes. As many as you can fit.”
Interesting guy.
It feels good to be in control again. Making decisions rather than letting disquiet get the best of me. If I just keep working away at the bugs, things are bound to get better.
“Cancel my afternoon,” I say to Adrian, returning to the bedroom, ready to finish packing.
“Already done.”