Chapter 22
Dressed in yet another pair of high-waisted, butt-enhancing yoga pants and a bra that was masquerading as a shirt, Gabby set off to yoga.
After a night of life-altering sex, she should be floating through the resort, confident for the first time ever in a bra-shirt, but her mistrust of Markus had dimmed her glow-up.
She tugged the shirt down and walked into the lobby.
Because the yoga tent was still crumpled on the beach after Gabby had single-handedly taken it down with the worst crane pose ever, yoga was being held in the main resort.
To avoid a guy pushing G-shots and a woman checking in, she skirted the edge of the room. A familiar voice stopped her in her tracks.
“I already told you, it’s booked under Elena Greene. Check it again. I have a reservation! Y’know what, can you just let me speak to your manager?” the woman said.
Gabby’s heart plummeted as the voice ramped up in intensity. It couldn’t be. She must be hearing things.
Bracing herself, she turned around, sure she was hallucinating. Nope. There was her mother. In a polo, khakis, and a golf visor, her mom was killing the meditative vibe of the entire resort. Gabby stood frozen as she watched her worlds collide in the worst way possible.
How had her mother ended up on her spy mission? Just the thought made her brain explode with the absurdity. She was an undercover spy, Top Gun of the spy world. She was the best agent available to protect the president’s reputation, and her mother had just followed her to work.
She fought back tunneling vision and a feeling of faintness like a pilot trying to hang on to consciousness before the g-force took him. G-force—the word jogged a memory of Jasmine’s advice yesterday. Avoid distraction. Focus. She had to get her mother out before anyone noticed.
All her mission goals were irrelevant, except to protect her cover and try not to kill her mom.
As the yoga class started their deep breathing, Gabby did one yoga breath with them. In through the nose, out through the mouth.
Isolate the problem and contain it. She’d offer the woman her mother was talking to an explanation, shuttle her to the cottage, and form an evac plan.
As far as the resort was concerned, she would just be an annoying guest who went to the wrong resort.
That was essentially the truth. Her mom was definitely at the wrong resort.
“The credit card should have gone through…” Her mom continued talking about payment.
As she took a step in their direction, Genesis, looking like a mountain of man flesh, wearing what could only be described as a loincloth, entered the lobby.
Shit. Shit. Shiiiiiiit.
Gabby slipped behind a display of tropical plants to stay out of view. Worst-case scenario, at the moment, was that one or both would spot her and they’d all end up chatting in front of the reception desk, everyone she was keeping secrets from in one casual conversation from hell.
“Cult leader, whom I’m undercover investigating, meet my mom, who thinks I’m a secretary. Nothing suspicious is going on at all. I repeat, nothing suspicious!”
Behind the plant, she crouched and took some deep breaths. Get it together, Gabby. Get it together. Think. There has to be a way out of this.
Her hiding place failed her. As Genesis walked past, he grabbed a G-shot off a tray and handed it to her. “Looks like you could use some help there.”
She stood up with a nothing-to-see-here smile. “I’m just a little off-kilter this morning.”
“Uncovering the truth will do that for you. You’ll get there. Sometimes I feel naked walking around the world.”
Gabby laughed, “G, you kind of are naked.”
“Good point,” he said, but corrected her in a sensitive voice, “I mean naked in the emotional sense.”
With a quick goodbye, he was off. Gabby breathed a sigh of relief just as her mom yelled, “Gabby!”
“Mom, what are you doing here?”
“Gabriella, I am so tired from traveling, and I just can’t seem to get through to this woman. Can you please help me clear this up?”
What the hell was happening? She was supposed to be doing important national security work, protecting the reputation of the president, and here was her mother throwing a fit on her mission. She hadn’t even wanted her mom to chaperone field trips when she was a kid. This was next level.
Gabby marched forward. It was time to isolate and contain the problem.
When children yelled all the time, it was usually because they thought they had to yell to be heard. Gabby walked up to her mom and spoke very softly like she used to do with the kids, “Mom, I hear you. Why are you here?”
“Granny said she called you. Didn’t you know we were coming?”
“What, no? She said something about shoes, and then the call dropped.”
“I’m sure she called back. Didn’t you answer?”
Gabby’s phone was in the Pacific Ocean, but how was this even something she should have been worried about.
She had been concerned that Kyle wouldn’t make it to horseback riding or that they’d run out of groceries.
This—this had never crossed her mind. Really, it just validated all the over-worrying she’d ever done.
Apparently, she could have worried even more because her family was more ridiculous than she ever could have imagined.
“How did you even pay for this?” A last-minute trip to the Azores and a stay at Inner-G? Could regular people even stay here? Markus had spent a year working his way into the group, and her mom had just shown up.
And then it got worse because there was her ex-husband walking over to join her mother at the front desk.
“Phil? What in the actual—” She couldn’t even finish the sentence.
He was scowling.
Gabby’s mind exploded. Maybe her mom and Phil hadn’t followed her. Maybe they had come here of their own accord.
Had Phil and her mom joined a cult? Were they fu—?
She couldn’t even finish the thought in her own mind.
It couldn’t be, but what else was going on?
Her mother might have been the woman with whom Phil was cheating.
And she’d thought it was bad he’d replaced her with a younger woman. This was SO MUCH WORSE.
Gabby was paralyzed completely, standing in the lobby, blinking like a plastic baby doll. When he started to answer, she put up a hand. “Save it. I’ll talk to you in a minute.”
Rebuffed, Phil sulked while she turned to the woman behind the counter. She needed to remove this potential collateral damage, because that’s who they were to her now. And she needed to do it before they compromised her mission even more than they already had.
Like all the workers at the resort, the receptionist was a member of Inner-G, who was paying for her membership with labor. It was essentially like an organic food co-op. The woman took a deep breath and said, “It’s fine. It’ll take more than a credit card problem to rock my inner-G.”
Gabby said a prayer of thanks. “I need to take lessons from you.”
“You can.”
Gabby laughed. “I’ll look into that. For now, I’ll just bring them back to my rooms. I’ll sort this out later.”
Gabby escorted her mom and Phil to the cottage.
With every step through the luxury resort, Elena’s wordless judgment grew louder.
It was all head shaking and back-of-the-throat noises.
When they stepped into the honeymoon cottage, it got even worse.
Ten minutes ago, it had looked like her fantasy, now—a full-on nightmare.
She’d rather be grocery shopping with two toddlers.
Hands on hips, Elena did a slow sweep of the room with her eyes. Seething with repressed anger, she said, “Gabriella Greene, what is going on?” Elena gestured to the luxury beach resort. “This is not Cleveland.”
Instead of shouting, “It’s none of your business!” like she wanted to, Gabby took a yoga breath (thanks, Jasmine) and tried to collect herself.
Elena did a slow sweep of the honeymoon cottage. In a syrupy voice that made Gabby’s skin crawl, she said, “You’re being awfully good to yourself, Gabby.” The subtext was clear. Gabby didn’t deserve this.
Phil excused himself and went out to the patio to ride out the argument that was clearly coming.
Gabby spun on Elena. “My question is, what are you doing here?” Gabby violently gestured to the patio. “With my ex-husband, your ex-son-in-law.”
“You are the one who needs to be answering questions, Gabriella.” Her mom wasn’t the least bit apologetic, like she had a right to do whatever it was she was doing. Even though there was no rational explanation for her presence.
“Did you join a cult together?” Gabby asked. “Are you cheating on Dad with my ex-husband?” Gabby could barely get that sentence out. They could have kept the Jerry Springer show on the air for a few more seasons with that one line.
And even if she and Phil were having some sort of freaking cult-fueled fling, what were the chances that they would go to the same cult that Gabby and Markus were investigating?
Maybe it was like that Elizabeth Gilbert book Big Magic that Gabby had read three chapters of.
Elizabeth Gilbert had said something about ideas floating around in the air, and sometimes the same people reach for the same very specific idea because it’s ready to be picked or something.
She’d been talking about creative ideas, but it probably applied to this sort of thing, except this wasn’t good magic. It was Big, Shitty Magic.
“Why are you here?” Gabby asked.
“When Kyle showed me where the AirTag had finally stopped moving, I went straight to the airline and ordered tickets for Phil and myself. I was going to bring Granny and the kids, but she didn’t want them to miss school.”
“AirTag?”
“The one Kyle put on your shoe, Gabby.” She stared down her nose. “You didn’t see it.”
Gabby’s mind exploded. The silicone flower jammed in her Croc wasn’t a cute charm. It was a tracking device. She and Kyle were going to have to have a conversation.
While Gabby was still processing the “gift” from Kyle, Elena went on. “Oh, and I used your credit card. It was stored on your computer. Because this trip is a rescue. You’re welcome.”
Gabby rubbed her temples. That was her government card. Her mother had charged last-minute tickets to the Azores to the US government. How was she going to explain that to Valentina?
“How the hell is this a rescue?” Gabby said, her voice pitching up. “I’m on a freaking work trip.”
“Work?”
Okay, she wasn’t going to convince anyone that this was work, not unless she started from the beginning and explained that she was an undercover agent, which she wasn’t going to do. If anyone should not be trusted with a secret, it was her mother.
But she had to tell her something. So she was going to have to let her mom believe some version of Gabby ran away to paradise and was being irresponsible. That didn’t go down easy. For once, she wanted to get a “Good job, sweetie!”
The fact that she was even in this position… If she were in a Bugs Bunny cartoon, steam would be coming out of her ears, and her top would be rattling like she was a screaming teapot.
“This is not work, Gabby.” Her mom was struggling to catch her breath. “You left your eighty-three-year-old grandmother with the kids to go on a luxury vacation with some guy. You are a mother, Gabby!”
Gabby rubbed her temples. All Gabby had done for fifteen years was do her best at mothering, to the point she had lost herself. Admittedly, she might be out of balance now, but Elena was out of line. Gabby practically hissed, “You are telling me to be a good mother? That is rich.”
“If chasing your daughter across the globe to rescue her from a bad decision isn’t committed mothering, I don’t know what is.”
Her mom was delusional.
In a quiet but deadly voice, Gabby said, “Sometimes there are good reasons to lie. I have my reasons. You should not be here.” Gabby paced the room. “Don’t unpack a thing because you can’t stay.”
Her mom laughed. “I will do whatever I want.”
Gabby considered tasing her mother. She wanted to. Before she could act on her current deepest desire, her mom said, “I’m going to splash some water on my face and cool off.”
Good.
Gabby turned to the patio.
Phil. The man was sitting outside in a light drizzle, just letting it rain on his face. Maybe it was as good as crying for him.
“Phil, do you want to come inside? It’s raining.” Why was she being pleasant to him?
“Gabby,” he said, his voice filled with defeat, “I came out because I was so pissed. You know you’re supposed to inform me if you get married. It’s a violation of the custody agreement.”
She wasn’t even getting married. This was the dumbest day on the planet. Plus, she’d missed yoga, and she needed to be worried about Sheridan, who needed to get off the island ASAP per the president of the freakin’ United States’ direct order.
“You built that in because you were worried about me introducing ‘some ho to the kids behind your back.’ Do you remember that?” He glanced in her direction.
She laughed softly and nodded. She did remember that, but she didn’t think it was necessary to inform Phil about a fake marriage for undercover work.
“And I thought there was a good chance you were in trouble. Pretending to go to Cleveland but instead running off to some cult-y island with that guy.” He choked out “that guy.” He’d met Markus once, and they’d had a pissing contest over a small home repair.
Markus’s presence had inspired Phil to change a lightbulb that Gabby had been asking for help with for about five years.
“Now I’m here, and I…” He shook his head. “Look at this.” He gestured to paradise. “Look at you.” He gestured to her.
Phil looked beaten. He dropped his head to his hands. It must be hard to see your ex do better than they did with you. Maybe the divorce was finally sinking in. Hopefully. Seeing her get fake married to Markus might be just what the doctor ordered.
Then Markus strode onto the patio, tall and handsome with a freshly exercised glow. He looked right at Phil, clearly confused as hell and rightfully so. He blinked as if to clear Gabby’s ex-husband from his vision. She’d already tried that.
“Phil?” he said. “What the hell?”
At which point, the patio door opened, and Elena poked her head out. “Is this George?” she asked. When Gabby ignored her, she looked directly at Markus and asked, “Are you George?”
Without answering or saying anything to the family, he made eye contact with Gabby. “We need to talk. Now.”