18. Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Eighteen
O n their usual monthly poker night, Gerard sat in his car outside Brody’s house, brooding. He wanted nothing more than to turn around and head back to the city. To not face his closest friends, who would know immediately how fucking miserable he was. Even the drive out hadn’t soothed the deepest ache he’d ever known.
He’d been misled by a woman he missed like hell, a woman he wanted back in his bed, in his life so bad that he almost called her to grovel—more than once. How had he gotten himself into this mess? And now, he had to go inside and get razzed by the guys for losing the bet, and he hadn’t even captured the prize. Damn it all to hell.
A tap on his window said the jig was up, so he opened his car door and climbed out. “Hi, Ben.”
They shook hands, then Ben leaned back on his Tesla and ran a hand through his shoulder length hair. “You don’t usually sit in your car like that.” He nodded toward Gerard’s sports car.
“Just thinking something through.”
“Brittney being more of a pain?”
Gerard waved his hand. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Are you going to settle out of court?”
That would be the easiest way to go, and it would keep Gerard out of the tabloids. “No. I’m not going to settle. There’s no basis to her claims, and I’m betting she doesn’t want the publicity any more than me.”
“That could be an expensive bet.”
“Maybe. But if she gets away with it, others will try.”
“True. It’s tough to be the one to take a stand that we could all benefit from.”
His chuckle was less than enthusiastic. “That’s me. Philanthropist entrepreneur.” He hit the lock button and headed for the porch.
“So, what’s really going on?” Ben said, joining him.
“Nothing.”
“Not nothing.”
“Nothing I want to talk about.”
Ben clapped his shoulder. “If you change your mind, I’m a phone call away.”
He turned to his friend. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”
Inside, they could already hear Mateo and Brody laughing. The sound lightened his mood, and by the time he and Ben joined them, he already felt better.
“There’s the prodigal son now,” Mateo said, clucking his tongue. “First—only—guy who’s dodged our sacred card game in, what’s it been, five years?”
“Last month couldn’t be helped. I needed to finish a big bid.”
Mateo laughed hard. “You have never let work disturb these weekends. For any of us.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Gerard leaned on the table and braced on fisted hands. Sometimes Mateo didn’t know when to keep his mouth shut. “You think I would have canceled on some whim?”
“Nooooo,” Mateo dragged out. He frowned. “You okay?”
Already, it starts. “I’m fine,” Gerard grit out. He shouldn’t have come. Heading for the bar, he downed the Glenfiddich Ben poured him, then tipped the glass toward Ben for a refill. The man had much more sense than Mateo. He raised his eyebrows, but poured a healthy dollop, then walked away. Gerard leaned on the bar and stared at the amber liquid until Brody clapped him on the back.
“I hope that issue we talked about has gotten better. If you want to catch up on it, we can chat tomorrow. Tonight, we can forget about everything and try the new cigars I just got in. I think you’re going to love them.”
Brody was right. Tonight wasn’t for wallowing, and Gerard had done a lot of that lately. It was time to let it go, at least for tonight. No job worries, no thinking about how going to the cabin, always his refuge, would never be the same again.
“You going to brood all evening?” Mateo asked as Brody shuffled the cards.
Taking a deep breath to keep from clobbering his friend, Gerard walked past the man to his usual chair, satisfying himself with a slap to the back of Mateo’s head as he went.
“Hey—” Mateo said.
“Leave him alone,” Xander said. “Man’s got a right to be down once in a while.”
That wiped the smile from Mateo’s face as he turned to Xander. “How you doin’, man?”
Gerard looked closely at his friend, who looked worse than he did.
“Not great,” Xander said.
“No word from Danni?”
“Not a peep. I’ve done everything short of hiring a PI, and I can’t find her.”
Mateo, showing real thought for the first time that night, squeezed Xander’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, man.”
“Yeah, me too.” Xander squared his shoulders, glanced at Gerard, then pasted a smile on his face. “What’s this I hear we have new cigars?”
They all chuckled as Brody handed out the vices. Gerard only smoked at the monthly poker game, like most of them. He knew Brody liked a good cigar more often and always had the best of the best. They all lit up, then Brody shuffled the cards one more time, and the game began.
Several hours—and drinks—later, Mateo opened his big, fat mouth again.
“So we know what Xander’s upside down smile is all about. What’s up with you?” His discard flew straight at Gerard.
“Everything’s fine.”
He saw the looks Ben and Brody gave Mateo. Looks that said to let it go. But, of course, Mateo didn’t. When that man had an opportunity in his sights, he took the shot.
“Bullshit,” Mateo said. “You’re almost more depressed than Xander. Wait—” Mateo got up while Gerard studiously shuffled the cards. “Do you have woman troubles? Is that what this is about?”
“Go to hell, Mat.” He strung out the shortened name, knowing Mateo hated it.
“Someday, Gerry,” he shot back, giving tit for tat. “Seriously, though, did you take the first tumble? Are you about to be out a hundred thou, my friend? Did you break our pledge?”
Gerard threw the cards on the table. “I’m done.” He tossed the rest of his drink down, got up, and walked out, hoping that would end the conversation. The chuckle from behind him said it wouldn’t be the last time he got asked that question. Damn it all to hell. He closed and locked his bedroom door and threw himself on his bed, one arm over his eyes.
He didn’t want to answer that question. He couldn’t. Not because he minded losing the money. It hurt too fucking much to have to tell his friends that he’d found someone and then lost her. It fucking gutted him to think about it. How could he put it into words, say it out loud, and make it even more real than it was.
Someone tapped at his door. He ignored it.
They tried the knob, then blessed silence. Maybe now he could lay in his own pool of misery.
The verandah doors opened, and Brody stepped in.
“Fuck, man. Can’t you see I want to be alone?”
“If you really wanted to be alone, you should have locked these.” Brody tapped one of the rattan doors, then sank into a chair outside Gerard’s room. He lay there, trying to ignore the man. When that didn’t work, he got up and joined him, seeing another glass of whiskey and another cigar on the table next to his chair.
He sat, drained the glass, and ignored the cigar.
“Feels like you’ve got woman trouble, my friend. You give in to those pheromones?”
He knew he couldn’t keep it a secret forever. “Yes,” he said, staring out into the dark night.
“Thought so. Things go south?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Not really.” As they sat there watching the night deepen, he realized he did want to talk about it. Maybe it was time. “I never should have slept with an employee.”
Brody took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. “If you broke your own rule, she must be worth it.”
“Thought she was until she tried to sabotage my company.”
“She part of that thing with Silverman and…the other guy?”
“Seems like it. The other guy worked in her department.”
“Seems like the evidence stacked against those two is pretty strong. You got proof she’s involved?”
“Not yet, but it’s only a matter of time.”
“What makes you think that?”
“She’s a Murdoch.”
Brody stilled and turned toward Gerard. “That company’s been a thorn in your side for years. How did you not know she was part of that family?”
“She used a different last name.”
“And you didn’t find that out during the vetting process?”
“No. I did not. Should have. Emersyn knew and didn’t tell me. I think I was blinded by lust. And that’s what I’m chalking this whole thing up to. Lust. She didn’t mean anything. Can’t mean anything. Not anymore.”
Brody was quiet for a moment. When he spoke, his words shot Gerard right between the eyes. “You’re in love with her.”
No. Gerard wanted to deny it, but hearing the words, his heart took off like a clay target shooting from the trap. He’d fallen in love with Rowan.
“Fuck,” he said.
“Yeah. Fuck. Do you want her back?”
“No.” Yes.
“Not sure I believe you.” Brody got up and stood in front of him until he looked up.
“You sure she’s part of all the shit going down at Barrett?”
“Why else would she have come to work for us?”
“You ask her that?”
“No.”
“Maybe you should.” With a wave and a goodnight, Brody left Gerard to his thoughts, his pain, his memories. How could he have fallen for Rowan McCarthy? No. Rowan Murdoch. Gerard drained the last couple drops from the glass beside him. He’d never asked her why she went by McCarthy. He normally vetted all new hires, and he’d never checked her out. Gerard had simply rolled with Emersyn’s recommendation. Probably because he’d been attracted to Rowan from the start.
He never asked Emersyn why she’d recommended Rowan.
He never asked Rowan why she went by McCarthy.
And he never gave Rowan a chance to explain.
Gerard always made sure he had the straight answer. The truth was important to him. So why had he given up on Rowan so easily?
Was he that afraid of love? Gerard stared out across the grounds, listening to the night sounds, the shuffle and soft neighs of horses, the crickets, and tried to figure out how to fix the mess he’d gotten himself into.
By morning, he’d made up his mind. He’d been wrong to accuse Rowan without hearing her out. He needed to go back to the beginning, vet her, understand her better. Then, he’d find her and convince her to talk to him. He’d listen. And no matter what, he’d apologize for not doing that sooner. Then he’d decide.
Yes, that was the way to go. Gerard dressed, packed his bag, and headed to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Completely out of character, Mateo was awake and up before everyone. He sat at the counter, staring down into his own cup of java.
Gerard dropped his bag and poured his coffee. “You’re up early.”
Mateo nodded toward the bag. “Figured you’d head out this morning. Wanted to see you first.”
Gerard sank onto a stool next to Mateo. “Sorry I got so riled last night.”
“Not your place to apologize. Not sure why, but I was twanging your chords all evening. Friends should know when to back off.”
Gerard nodded. “Thanks.”
“We good?”
“We’re good.” And they were. He was closer to these guys than he’d ever been with anyone. He should be able to talk to them and shouldn’t withhold information from them. “You were spot on.”
“Yeah, figured that. Sorry, man. So, whatever happened, it’s over?”
“Seems to be. My fault, though, and I’m going back to either put the exclamation point on a crappy few months or find a solution.” Gerard put his cup in the sink.
Mateo stood up and hugged him. “I’m in your corner. Good luck, Gerard. You need anything, call me.”
He hugged his friend back, smiling. “I will.”
In moments, he was in the McLaren and roaring down the road. Back to the city to see where his destiny lay. He had plans to make.