Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
NOT A PRAYER
Adrienne
This morning, I wake up expecting to be in someone’s arms, again. I know better, but I’m all alone and weirdly disappointed. After my disastrous date with Bobby last night and then coming home to an angry Gabe, who drew me a bath and then made love to me, my head is pounding and my heart hurts.
I can’t rationalize that a man I grew up with, one I’ve known almost my entire life, would speak to me so callously. I had thought he could be the one. Not necessarily the love of my life, but the one who could give me a good, honest life.
And the man I can’t seem to stay away from, the one who makes my body sing late at night in a way no one ever has, the one who takes care of me and protects me, is the one who will also never love me.
It’s quite a dilemma.
Maybe the solution is simpler than I think.
Maybe the lesson is that, in the end, I’ll have no one.
Maybe there’s no one who can love me. It feels selfish to have everything in the world that I could possibly want and be desperate for love, for passion, for companionship.
I crave the one thing I don’t have—a partner.
So, I get up and brush my hair and teeth, wash my face, and pull on soft cotton panties—the kind no woman wants a man to see—and a matching bra. Maybe the ugly utilitarian underwear will keep me from getting naked for Gabe.
The annoying voice in the back of my head shouts Maury says that’s a lie!
I slide buttery soft leggings up my legs and layer baby blue and lavender ribbed tank tops. I slide my feet into a pair of worn Chucks and gather my hair into a ponytail on top of my head.
It’s a crapshoot what I’m going to find downstairs in the kitchen. If the status quo holds, Gabe will be rude and surly by the time I find him, and that thought makes me feel irrevocably sad.
He’s nowhere to be found, and hope blooms that maybe I can get out the door before he finds me. I need out. I need time away from him, away from Bobby, the track. I need to be in my car on the road with the wind in my hair and the sun on my face.
I feel at peace when I’m behind the wheel. Before the death threats, I’d go for a drive when I felt the pressure weighing down my shoulders. Now, I can’t even remember the last time I was able to drive myself.
I walk through the first floor, and Gabe is nowhere to be found.
Did he leave me? Usually, Manny or Eli are nearby when Gabe disappears.
The thought of him finding me so unbearable in the light of day, that he has to physically leave my presence, burns—it hurts—but like everything else in my life, I choke it down.
I push it so deep and lock it in a box and hope that it never opens.
Gabe’s not in the kitchen either, but my purse and cell phone are on the island. I sling my leather hobo bag over my shoulder and decide that since he’s not here, I’ll make my way to my mom’s on my own.
When I pick up my phone from the counter, it lights up. The screen shows one notification after the next: texts, missed phone calls, emails, and Google alerts. What in the world could have happened? I slide my finger across the glass screen to unlock it and… scream.
“What happened?” Gabe roars from the entrance to the kitchen, but I’m lost, scrolling through the Google alerts on my phone.
“No,” I mutter under my breath. “No, no, no.”
“Adrienne,” he shouts, and my head snaps up. “What happened?”
I force out a heavy breath. “Nothing.”
“That scream wasn’t nothing.”
“Well, it was. It’s a PR problem, but not anything deadly,” I admit. “Besides, I didn’t know you were here.”
“Where else would I be?”
“I have no idea,” I reply. I’m not his keeper. I don’t actually know anything about him other than he fucks like a champion and is emotionally unavailable.
“Where are you going?” he asks, changing the subject quickly, and I have just enough time to feel the tingle up my spine—the warning that I’ve wandered onto dangerous ground—but there’s no turning back now.
“I have a lunch date with my mom,” I answer honestly and do my best to keep my face open so he can see the truth behind my words.
“And were you going to tell me that you were leaving?” he asks softly. “Or were you just going to sneak out?”
“It’s not sneaking when I own the house,” I answer, rolling my eyes.
“That’s hardly an answer.”
“I didn’t know where you were, so I figured you’d left,” I tell him. “Manny and Eli aren’t here, and you know I doubt the seriousness of the threats. I’ve had angry letters before, and this won’t be the last time either.”
“Unreal,” he growls. “Did the last angry letters mention wanting to fuck you with a hunting knife?”
“Who— What?” I stammer.
“Did they detail all the ways they want to cut you to pieces and leave a mess for your mom and dad to find?” he presses.
“Did any of them say they wanted to leave you in so many pieces that there would be no hope of your parents having an open casket at your funeral without you looking like Sally from Nightmare Before Christmas?”
“Gabe,” I whisper. I feel my eyes widen, and I can’t quite catch my breath. My legs shake, and I think I’m going to be sick.
“And let’s not forget they tried to fucking shoot you.”
“Please—” I beg for him to stop torturing me like this. Why can’t he just let me live in my bubble? I’m happy there.
Well, happy is subjective these days.
Content, maybe? Whatever, I’d rather not know any of that shit.
“Stop saying this isn’t serious,” he orders.
“Okay.”
“This is serious.”
“Okay.” So much exasperation in that one tiny word.
“What was the PR crisis?” he asks, abruptly changing direction.
It throws me off balance and keeps me jittery.
He wants to scare me, and it works, but after last night, I just feel…
I don’t know, broken. Between Gabe and Bobby, and then DHR and my dad’s crazy announcement, it feels like each hit takes another piece of me, and now there’s not enough pieces left to survive.
I force a heavy breath between my lips. “Bobby has strong ideas about what dinner last night meant,” I hedge.
“And that would create a PR crisis how exactly?”
“Because he’s decided that we should date, marry, and then I’d pop out his little race-loving babies,” I say, letting my frustration take over my words.
I’m not watching what I say in front of Gabe, so I don’t consider that he’ll react poorly.
Fully miss his body stiffening at the thought of me marrying anyone and having their babies.
“And while I’m doing this, I’m not racing, because he’s decided I need to retire, as in now, so that he has a clear path to my family’s business.
Not that I think I deserve it just because, but I have literally been training for this my entire life.
In fact, I’ve had no life, because I’ve devoted it to DHR and whatever my dad thought I should. ”
I don’t clock his reaction to Bobby wanting to steamroll right over me for my spot in the racing world.
Racing is a cutthroat sport, so I should have been prepared for that.
I just never thought it would come from my friend.
Gabe has always thought of me as a spoiled brat.
It wouldn’t surprise me that he probably thinks I’m getting my just desserts.
My phone rings.
“Hello?” I answer without looking at the caller’s name because my life is spiraling out of control and breakneck speeds.
“Adrienne, what the hell is going on?” my dad yells over the phone. “You’re retiring?”
“No, Dad.” I sigh. “I’m not retiring. Bobby would like me to, though.”
“Excuse me?” he growls. Yes, growls, like he’s channeling the man currently sucking up all of the oxygen in the kitchen.
“Dad,” I say, softening my tone. “I’m not sure I should be giving you the gritty details of my date last night.”
“Did he touch you?” he thunders.
For the life of me, I can’t figure out why he’s so mad.
“Dad, calm down. It was just dinner,” I answer him. “Bobby and I went to dinner the one time.”
“Then why is he calling me at six in the morning to ask for my permission to marry you and to let me know you’re retiring effective immediately?” Dad asks.
My face burns hotter and hotter, and I fear I’m in danger of my head exploding. I never gave Bobby the impression that I was okay with his plans. How could he have done this?
“Well, Adrienne?”
“I have no idea. We went on one date,” I explain. “And it was last night. He told me over dinner that he wanted me to retire. He said there won’t be room for both of us at DHR when he takes control of the company. I did not agree. I thought we’d talk about it later, but I was wrong.”
“I’m going to kill him.”
“No, Dad,” I say quietly. “You’re not. You love Bobby like a son, and you’re going to keep on doing that. I probably shouldn’t have told you what happened between us, because we’re both competing for the control of DHR. Per your wishes, I’ll remind you.”
“And why shouldn’t you tell me?” he asks a little irately. “I’m your father.”
“I know you are,” I say with a smile on my face. “It’s something that gives me great joy, but you’re the reason why Bobby and I are competing this season, so me telling you we had an altercation is a little like going to the principal because a boy pulled my hair on the playground.”
“I’m your father,” he repeats sternly.
“You’re also my boss and deciding who will be your successor, so complaining to you as a daughter is not evening the playing field,” I remind him gently.
“Fuck the playing field,” he snaps.
“Dad, this situation is of your own making,” I reminded him once more.
“I knew it was a stupid idea,” he mutters.
“It’s never stupid if you think it’s important and has a purpose,” I say softly.
“You know I love you, right?” he asks.
“I do. You know that I love you?”
“I do.”
“So, you’re not dating Bobby?”
“Probably not,” I reply, rolling my bottom lip between my teeth and then letting it go. “We grabbed dinner, that’s it. One date and it didn’t go very well.”
“Good,” he says.