Chapter 21 #2
“Really?” I ask, surprised. I’ve spent so much time thinking that being with Bobby was exactly what my dad wanted for me.
“Yeah, why do you ask?”
“Well,” I say, knowing I sound like an immature child. “I went out with him, because I had it in my mind that pitting Bobby and me against one another was because you really wanted to see us together, working together.”
“God, no,” he blurts. “I never imagined you with Bobby. If anything, I figured you’d end up with a man like Gabe.”
“What?”
“You know, a real man,” he answers. “One who’ll stand up to you but not beat you down. One who will encourage, not hold you back. Someone who will be a tough nut to crack but if you give them the chance will really love you.”
My lungs burn as I hold my breath, because Gabe is all of those things.
I thought Bobby was the safe answer. I thought he’d be my happily enough even if he wasn’t my happily ever after, but I was wrong.
Gabe encourages me, and he pushes me without holding me back.
But my dad is still heartbreakingly wrong, because Gabe will never love me. I’m not even sure he can.
“That’s really sweet to say, Dad,” I whisper.
“How’s everything going with Gabe?” he asks like it’s no big deal. Which makes me feel weird, like my skin is two sizes too small. It’s too tight. I don’t fit inside it, and all of my internal organs are being crushed.
So, I do the only thing I can in this scenario. I lie. “Things are good,” I softly singsong.
“Uh huh,” he says. “Are you halfway in love with him yet?”
I know he’s joking. He has to be, right? Still, his offhanded comment catches me off guard. I’m not in love with Gabe. I can’t be.
Falling for a man like him would be a recipe for disaster.
He’s cold and cut off. He can often be cruel with his words, but he can also be caring and attentive.
And that’s not even considering whatever last night was, because while I have no idea what it meant, I know it was different… somehow more.
But I can’t fall for him, can I?
“Well, that’s telling,” Dad says, shaking me from my thoughts.
I was so lost I didn’t answer, and now he’s decided my non-answer is an actual response.
Which might be the truth, but not a truth I want out in the open.
“I’ll have to make sure to let him know I expect my baby girl to be treated right. ”
“No,” I shout, because the man we’re discussing is not only in the same room, but standing fairly close to me.
He jumped at my outburst, ready to protect me from whatever threat there might be.
It’s sexy as hell but also terrifying, because I cannot imagine a man like Gabe ever being told by someone’s father to treat them well.
He might go all Thanos and snap everyone out of existence.
That’s not an outcome I’m willing to bet on. “It’s not what you think, Dad.”
“I’m not so sure—” he starts, but I don’t let him finish.
“Well, I am,” I say resolutely. “So don’t do that. Just let it be.”
“I only ever want you to be happy.”
“I am.” It’s a lie but I promise myself that it won’t be. That I’ll come through this on the other side stronger than I am now, even if alone.
“Maybe find a man who’ll do right by you and show you a better example than I did.”
“Dad—”
“It’s true,” he says, and it’s evident by his tone that he’s lost in his own thoughts now. “I never should have failed your mother. A better man wouldn’t have.”
“But you’re happy now, right?” I can’t help but ask. I don’t particularly like my stepmother, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want my dad to be happy.
“Yeah, yeah,” he says just a little too quickly. “Well, it’s Wednesday, so I’m sure you’re off to see your mom.”
“Yeah,” I reply quietly.
“Well, then, I better let you get to it. I’ll get PR on a retraction and a correction. Adrienne Malone is never going to step back from professional racing or DHR. It’s in her blood.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I reply. “That means a lot to hear you say it.”
“And if I see Bobby outside of the track, I’ll knock his fucking teeth in,” he mutters.
“No,” I shout, but he’s already disconnected.
“I take it perfect, pretty-boy Bobby is a dickhead,” Gabe says.
I turn back to face him and sigh. “Kind of, but I’m not convinced that’s all he is,” I answer. “The boy I grew up with is in there somewhere.”
“Adrienne—” Gabe starts.
But I don’t let him finish whatever it was he was going to say. I can’t. I just don’t have it in me. Whatever he was going to say to punch another hole in my life parachute, is just too much for me to take right now.
“I have to believe it,” I tell him. “I just do. But I’m going to be late to meet my mom if I don’t leave now.”
He seems to watch me for a moment, and then says softly, “Then let’s get you to your mom’s.”
I don’t respond. There really isn’t anything to say, so I follow him out to his SUV.
My plans to run away on my own and get some much-needed distance and clarity are dashed, but still, I can handle it.
This morning has been enlightening, to say the least: Bobby’s full of it, Gabe can be gentle when he wants to be, and my dad believes in me after all.
Or at least I hope he does, but he does not sound like I’m the disappointment Bobby said I was.
Last but not least by a longshot, the threats against me are very much real and a scenario I do not want to see play out. Ever.
Gabe once again pulls open the door for me and before he closes me in, I put out a hand to stop it. “Why do you do that?”
“Do what?” he asks. A look of confusion crosses his face.
“Open the door for me.” I realize I shouldn’t have blurted that out when surprise registers across his face and then a scowl settles in.
“The answer is two parts,” he replies. “One, if I open and close the door in a tense situation, you can be covered. It’s my job to protect you no matter what.”
“And the second?”
“Because you deserve to be treated like that,” he says, and I’m so stunned I draw my hand back as if I’ve been burned. He uses the opportunity to shut the door and walk around the hood to climb into the driver seat.
We don’t speak the rest of the drive to my mother’s house. I don’t have to give him directions, because like everything else in my life, he already knows all the gory details.
“There’s my darling girl,” my mom calls out before I even have both feet on the ground when we park in her driveway. She’s standing on the front porch with her arms wide and a huge smile on her face.
I shut the door behind me and walk straight into her arms, which settle around me. I might be grown, but every time she embraces me like this, I know I am home.
“Hi, Mom,” I say, smiling when I pull back to look at her beautiful face.
She’s still tall and slim, mainly because she believes in mostly healthy eating and long walks on the beach with her golden retriever, Hugo.
Her long hair is more silver than blonde now, and she does not dye it.
The faint lines around her eyes tell the story of how her life has been filled with smiles and laughter, but they’re not too deep, because she also believes in a serious skin regime.
Everyone always says I look just like her, but my hair is dark—black like my dad’s—and hers is the lightest blonde, now platinum.
“It’s so good to see you,” she says. “Lunch is out on the patio.”
“What did you make?” I ask, because I might be a passable cook, but my mom is the best.
“Curry chicken salad sandwiches, fruit salad, ham and swiss on rolls, and Grandma’s sheet cake,” she says, listing off enough food to feed an army. “Oh! And her lemon bars too.”
“Mom, we may never eat again.” I laugh, and she looks over my shoulder to who I know must be Gabe standing behind me.
Her lips part, and she executes the most attractive gasp. “You must be Mr. Navarro.”
“Just Gabe, ma’am,” he replies, and I swear the deep tone of his voice almost has her in an regency novel swoon.
“Adrienne’s told me all about you.” She smiles a cat-that-ate-the-canary smile, but when her words register in my head, my eyes go wide, and my own smile slips right off my face.
I look up at Gabe and watch in horror as he turns to me with one dark brow arched sardonically over his eye. He’s clearly wondering what I’ve told my mother. What I could have possibly shared with her between our torrid affair and all of the toxic communications after fucking, I’m not sure.
“It wasn’t me,” I blurt out.
Mom, still smiling happily, jumps and replies, “Oh, it was Adrian… the elder one,” she explains. “My ex-husband.”
“Ah,” he says noncommittally.
Somehow, I can’t help but feel like I’ll end up paying for the whole thing later, even though I did nothing wrong and the misunderstanding wasn’t my fault. It makes me feel jittery and off balance… again. I need to get rid of all of my excess baggage and find my way back to center again.
“So…” I trail off to redirect the conversation. “The enormous amount of food Hugo is probably mowing through on the patio…?”
“Oh!” She jumps. “Yes. Let’s… But just to add, even if he did decide to go counter-surfing while I was greeting my darling daughter—”
“Your only daughter.”
“My only darling daughter,” she corrects with a laugh, “there is still plenty to go around, but we should go in before he makes his way to the sheet cake.”
“Sounds good, Mom.”
“Who is Hugo?” Gabe whispers the question in my ear on our way through the front door.
“A very lovable old man.”
“Where is my naughty boy?” Mom coos from inside the house.
The minute I step through the door, there is a big woof and then the ponding of footsteps hits.
“Jesus,” Gabe says. “It sounds like a herd of elephants.”
“Have you ever heard a herd of elephants?” I ask but don’t turn back to look at him. I can’t take my eyes off the impending attack. It’s too dangerous.
“Don’t try to cute your way out of this,” he warns, and his voice rumbles in my ear with sexual promise.
“I’m not,” I reply. “And I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“We’ll see.”