Chapter Forty-Nine
Gabi
‘For someone who seems the favourite choice for a top job and gets their boot off for good in a week, you don’t seem happy about it,’ Isabella said to Gabi later that afternoon.
She and Gabi lay at either end of the sofa, in Isabella’s apartment over the restaurant, top to toe as they painted each other’s toenails. Gabi, tongue poking from the corner of her mouth, didn’t answer until she finished painting Isabella’s big toe in turquoise.
‘Aren’t you looking forward to it?’ Isabella pressed and Gabi lifted her eyes from her task.
‘The leg, yes,’ she said. ‘I can’t wait to get this thing off.’
‘And the job?’
She pulled a face and then frowned at Isabella, nail varnish brush in one hand, pot in the other. Gabi took a deep breath as she prepared to ask her cousin one of the many questions that had been bothering her lately.
‘Do you think I use my job to run away from people?’
‘Woah, deep and meaningful conversation coming up,’ Isabella said. ‘Lids on for this kind of talk.’ Both screwed their bottles shut, one foot painted each. ‘Now, where did that come from?’
‘Walker.’
Isabella considered that, nodding.
‘I couldn’t say for sure, Gabs. But your jobs have taken you all around the world since you were old enough to fly solo. Maybe you have been running from something.’
Gabi’s mouth opened in amazement. She’d always presumed she was running towards something – like success, and money, and independence, for example – and had never seen anything wrong with that.
But maybe there was a kernel of truth in what Isabella, and Walker, said.
After all, she chose to spend all of her time with the one person she thought she could rely on: herself.
Was she running away because she didn’t trust other people enough to stick around?
The niggle of doubt made her ask the next question that was on her mind.
‘And do you think I find it hard to form relationships?’
Isabella looked her right in the eye and Gabi braced herself.
‘Have you ever had one?’ Isabella asked.
Gabi gasped at that one. Her cousin wasn’t holding her punches tonight.
‘Not a long one, no . . .’ Gabi said defensively.
‘How long is not long?’ Isabella probed. ‘Because I’ve never met one of them.’ Gabi grimaced.
‘I’ve never made it past date five,’ Gabi confessed and Isabella raised an eyebrow.
‘Why not?’ she demanded.
Gabi squirmed and put a cushion over her face.
‘It was when he started talking about planning a weekend away together,’ she said from behind it. ‘I couldn’t bear the thought of listening to him mouth breathe for more than a few hours at a time. I would have smothered him in his sleep.’
‘Mmm-hmmm. There’s your answer, Gabs.’ Isabella paused, then frowned. ‘When did Walker say all this to you exactly?’ Isabella asked, pulling Gabi’s cushion away, leaving Gabi feeling pink in the face, exposed. She wished she’d never started this. But she couldn’t keep running for ever.
Gabi sighed and told her everything. Isabella listened wide-eyed and open-mouthed, only remembering to shut it when Gabi wrapped up, ‘And then I stormed off home. Tell me honestly, Issy. How would you describe me?’ The two women faced each other, and Gabi knew that Isabella would tell her the truth.
She trusted her with her life. Always had.
‘You’re fabulous, Gabi, you’re fun, feisty and full of life.’
‘But?’ Gabi braced herself. She could tell by the way that her cousin was looking at her there was more to come.
‘I can see what Walker means when he says you find it hard to let people in. It probably comes from your childhood. You are independent to the point of getting the bus to your hospital appointment with a broken leg rather than asking someone for a lift . . .’
‘But I don’t want to trouble anyone – and I can do it.’ Conflicting emotions suddenly left Gabi’s eyes filled with tears.
‘On your own, yes, I know.’ Isabella tweaked Gabi’s big toe, taking the sting out of her words. ‘All I’m saying is, don’t be too independent if you don’t want to end up alone.’
Gabi blinked, swallowed, nodded. It was good advice. She just didn’t know how to follow it.
‘Do you think I can’t form relationships?’ Gabi asked. She might as well get the full story. Isabella laughed and rolled her eyes.
‘That’s difficult for me to answer because you’re the best cousin in the world.’
Gabi accepted that one with a nod.
‘And Amber says you’re the best housemate she’s ever had.’
Gabi accepted that one too. Living with Amber had been fun, and it would be a wrench to leave. No more early morning coffees in their PJs when they communicated in grunts and nods. No more late-night glasses of wine on the sofa when they laughed until their stomachs ached.
‘And the gang love you. They always say nights out are more fun with you there. Bucking broncos, firemen’s poles . . .’
Gabi felt some of the tension leave her. Maybe she wasn’t such a failure after all.
‘So, I’d say you’re pretty good at making friendships. In fact, great at it.’ Gabi felt a swell of happiness. She’d never really had friends before. Just Isabella. Becoming part of the gang at Honeybridge, that had made her feel good.
Etienne wandered in, barefoot, coffee in hand, and opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Isabella, who suddenly drew a sharp intake of breath and grabbed Gabi’s foot, hard, to get her attention.
‘The question might actually be, what kind of relationship, exactly, is Walker saying you’re not good at?’
The two women stared at each other. Etienne stood between them, listening.
‘Why is he so keen for you to let someone in?’ Isabella whispered. ‘Sounds to me like Walker wants more than whatever friends with benefits situation you’ve had going on.’
Gabi’s stomach lurched, and she dropped her eyes to look at the foot that Isabella held in her hand.
She remembered the casually intimate way that Walker had pulled it into his lap earlier.
How good it had felt to rest it there, on his thigh, cupped in his hands.
She’d wanted to stay there all day. Maybe it wasn’t just him wanting more.
‘Do you think?’ Gabi asked tentatively, unsure what she wanted the answer to be. Isabella’s blue eyes held hers, but it was Etienne that spoke.
‘I’d put money on it,’ he said, with a nod.
‘You don’t gamble,’ Gabi challenged but Etienne disregarded that with a shrug.
‘I think this is what Alex would call a sure thing.’
Gabi’s heart pounded in her chest even as she started to deny it. Walker might want her body, but he didn’t really want her – the whole package, as she was – did he? Wasn’t it just that he had such a hero complex on he wanted to save her in some way?
‘I don’t think so somehow.’ She shook her head decisively at Etienne, and picked up the nail varnish again to finish Isabella’s feet. ‘Walker McBride hates me.’