Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-three
After dinner had been cleared and Gabe had gone ahead to their room, Iris heard a man’s raised voice coming from Lindsay and Bill’s room down the hall.
Worried, she tiptoed toward their slightly open door.
She spied Bill glowering over Lindsay as she sat on the bed.
He roughly gripped her face, squeezing her cheeks to make her face him as he berated her.
“You embarrassed me! You think this pretty face makes you a princess?” Iris stepped out of sight but kept an ear to the door.
She flinched when she heard a loud smack and one last invective, “Stupid cunt!” Then the slam of an interior door. Then silence.
She peeked again. Bill was gone, but Lindsay remained wilted on the edge of the bed, swaying slightly. Iris whispered her name from the doorway until she looked up.
Lindsay’s eyes darted to the bathroom, then back at Iris. Then she got up and met her in the hall. “What? What is it?”
Up close Iris could see her nostril was still crusted with blood. “Are you okay? Did he hit you? You can come to my room, we can get someone—”
“Of course not, I’m fine.” Lindsay smoothed out her hair. “He gets mad, but I have him wrapped around my little finger.”
“That wasn’t what it looked like.”
“What, are you spying on me?”
“I was checking on you.”
“I don’t know what I was thinking with you before.” Lindsay touched her nose and winced. “I was bored.”
The cocaine, the nosebleed. It dawned on Iris. She’d lost her sense of smell. “All right, well, I’m going to bed. But for what it’s worth, you deserve someone who doesn’t treat you like that.”
Lindsay seemed to take it in, but when Iris turned to go, she hissed after her. “You think you’re better than me? Does your glass blow job make you pay the bill?”
Iris looked over her shoulder at Lindsay, her pity plain.
All the power of youth and beauty was good for a handbag, nothing more.
And sex appeal had no upper hand against a man willing to raise his.
She hoped Lindsay would see that more clearly in the morning, but Iris wasn’t getting through to her tonight.
—
Iris returned to their room, eager to process what she’d just seen, but she found Gabe packing his bag. “What are you doing?”
“I’m sorry. This is not my scene.”
“You’re leaving? Are you serious? Why?”
“Do you have to ask?”
“So some of the dinner guests were obnoxious. I just think leaving is extreme, we only have one more day, it’s late.”
“There’s still a ferry and trains all night, I checked.”
“You looked up the schedule already? So this isn’t even a discussion.”
He shook his head. “There’s not a lot to discuss. It’s simple. I’m not comfortable here, I’m not having a good time, so I’m going home. If you want to come with me, you’re welcome to. It’s totally up to you.”
“No, Gabe, it isn’t. This isn’t a vacation for me, it’s work.”
“That sucks for you. These people are awful.”
“How am I going to explain you leaving in the night? It’s rude. It’s embarrassing.”
“Sorry I’m an embarrassment to you and these rich assholes.”
“That’s not what I said.” She rubbed her face with her hands, her head was pounding. “This is an important weekend for me professionally, and I brought you here because you’re important to me too. And now you’re making me choose. You can’t act like you’re not putting me in a tough spot.”
“Tonight wasn’t exactly a comfy spot for me either.”
“You made it harder than it had to be. You were spoiling for a fight. Why couldn’t you just…just…?”
“What?”
“Just go along to get along. Do you know how many times in this industry some jerk has said something offensive to me and I had to smile through it? If I popped off or stormed out every time, I wouldn’t have a job.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not like that. I don’t suck it up and take it.”
That pissed her off, and Iris could feel herself begin to harden. She sat down on the bed without looking at him. She was no longer interested in fighting for him to stay. “How are you going to get home?”
“On the train, like the rest of the commoners.”
“Let me drive you to the ferry.”
—
Iris asked Pilar if she could borrow the Land Rover and she and Gabe drove along the pitch-black roads.
Their only conversation was Gabe reading the Google Maps directions and telling her to look out for the deer whose eyes flashed in their high beams from the embankments along the way.
Her frustration and anger faded during the ride, and a crumbly sadness took its place.
Gabe must have sensed the energy shift as well, because when she put the SUV into Park in the ferry lot, he had softened his tone.
“Look, let’s not blow this out of proportion.
You gotta do your work thing, I get it, I support it, but I wasn’t vibing with it.
It’s not that deep.” A few uncomfortable seconds of silence ticked by in the car’s cabin.
“Believe me, those people do not give a fuck if I’m here. ”
Iris’s heart wrenched. “It’s not about them. I care if you’re here.”
Gabe tilted his head at her in a way that felt more placating than sincere. It made her stomach flip. “We’re good, okay?”
“If we weren’t, would you even tell me? Because in my gut, I feel like we’re not.”
He looked out the window. “I can’t be anything other than what I am. Let’s just leave it at that. Not everything is better when you dig at it. Not everything benefits from pressure, sometimes pressure makes something beautiful break.”
“Are we breaking up?”
“I didn’t say that. I meant like, metaphorically.” He said her name in a sigh. “Iris. Let’s just take a breath, okay?”
She found it hard to breathe through the lump in her throat. “Okay.”
“Text me when you get home Sunday.”
She managed a nod. And he leaned over the console to kiss her goodbye. It was closed mouth.
Her gaze followed Gabe to the isolated glow of the ferryman’s ticket taker, and he waved to her before boarding.
She waved back, a limp-fingered high sign he probably couldn’t see, and started the engine.
Iris aimed her lonely headlights at the dark road home, wondering if her glass romance had already shattered.