“Last week, you asked if I drove in. You left your underwear in my car. You wanted me to find them. You wanted me to—”
“You did that all on your own, Kat. You were begging for an excuse to fuck Asher. I gave you one.”
I can’t even respond to that comment. Instead, my mind continues to piece it all together. “Did you send those photos?” I breathe out the question with every ounce of disgust I have in my body.
She looks at me like I’m the biggest idiot she ever met. Perhaps I am. “You remember meeting Oswald Thompson in Miami, don’t you?” she asks. I nod. “Ozzie sent those. He’s got a good eye, doesn’t he?”
Oswald Thompson? Why in the world would Oswald Thompson care that I cheated on my husband?
“He’s my contact, Kat. Did you think you were going to go to Miami and take credit for an account I was working on?” she says with both palms placed flatly on the desk, her body leaning toward me. “Bet you also didn’t realize he is Gabriel’s big client.”
Gabriel’s client? I would know that, wouldn’t I?
Malory lets out a wicked laugh. “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”
My feet are on the concrete pavement of New York in less than five minutes, and the dark skies are peaceful compared to the world I just left behind. I open my iPhone and close the digital recorder app. I send the file to Asher and hope he’ll see Malory for what she’s worth. And if he doesn’t, then it looks like I lost another friend.
Seems like I’m losing a lot these days.
The last five days have been quiet torture. I can’t call Gabriel. I know he’ll just hang up. I can’t email. I know he’ll delete it.
Gwen has been on the phone with Gabriel many times over the last few days. I know this because she scurries into the other room, whispering into the receiver. It doesn’t surprise me. Gabriel needs to know how Jackson is doing. It’s probably killing him to have gone days without seeing the baby. That’s why I suggested Gabriel come to the house after work while I make myself scarce. It’s the least I can do.
I’ve spent my time holed up in the house, feeling sorry for myself. Gwen gives me my space while I process everything that happened. On Monday night, she watched Jackson while I cried myself to sleep. Tuesday, she kept a safe distance while I camped out in the living room with Jackson and watched him build blocks up high and we knocked them straight down. On Wednesday night, she made us two cups of coffee and listened while I told her the story from the very beginning. The last two days, she’s offered me time to reflect.
Today, I have to get out. I started the day with a brisk walk. Jackson and I both enjoyed the fresh air as I whipped out the baby jogger. Then we took a walk to the grocery store in town and started to get a routine back in our lives. It was reminiscent to our lives mere months ago. It seems like an eternity has passed.
As the clock struck closer to Gabriel’s arrival time, I borrowed Gwen’s car and started west. I didn’t know exactly where I planned to go, and traffic was moving so I just kept with the flow. I stop the car in a deserted parking lot overlooking the Long Island Sound.
To my left is the marina. Everything from grand sixty-foot yachts to motorboats and small fishing vessels line the docks. I love looking at the boats, especially the ones drifting in the harbor, waiting to be taken to some exotic destination.
Sailboats.
“Where are we going?” I asked with blindfolded eyes.
Gabe was in the driver’s seat of his Mustang. It was old and made a lot of noise, such a boy car.
“I’m taking you somewhere very important to me. Someplace I want to share with you.” His warm hand grabbed mine and raised it to his lips before falling onto his lap.
In the six months we’d known each other, we’d become inseparable. He waited for me after each class and carried my books everywhere we went. Most of his classes were early in the morning, so he was done before I even began. He even resorted to sitting with me during lunch, twirling my hair in his hands as I told him stories about my childhood and growing up with my dad in the Majors. He was a big Marlins fan and went to quite a few games with his dad.
I felt the car slow down. Gabe let go of my hand as he used two hands to pull into a spot. I heard him get out and close the door behind him. Shortly, my door opened and Gabe’s hand was in mine again, escorting me out of the car.
“Now will you tell me where we are?” I begged. The air was finally warm after months of the autumn chill and winter winds.
“If there is one thing you must know about me, it’s that I love surprises. Consider this the first of many.”
“So that’s a no?” I teased.
“Patience, baby. We’re almost there.” He gently guided me along the walkway. I didn’t know where I was, but I could smell the saltwater and hear seagulls. We were by the water, but where?
We walked a few more feet and stopped. Gabe braced me with both arms. I thought he was going to take the blindfold off. Instead, I felt warm, wet lips on mine. Lips I’d become very familiar with.
When he pulled away, he also took the blindfold off. First, my eyes fixed on his beautiful navy blues. But then they drifted to a different sea of blue. We were at Baltimore’s Inner Harbor.
“Are we going fishing?” I frowned at the idea. I wasn’t much of a sit still, be quiet, and wait for a fish to come type of girl.
“No, we’re going sailing!” His Robert Redford grin turned into a glorious smile. This was definitely something he enjoyed.
“Sailing?” I was impressed.
“It’s my first love.” Gabe pulled my hand and walked me over to, what I later learned, was a 1983 Catalina 25 Swing Keel. Gabe had sailing paraphernalia around his apartment. He mentioned he loved to sail, but this was taking it to a whole new level.
“I had to mow a lot of lawns to afford her.” He stepped onboard and held out a hand for me to join. “I just repainted the hull and the wood has been redone.” His eyes were reflected in the sapphire sail. He was beaming with pride.
“She’s beautiful. What’s her name?” I took a seat on the white leather cushion.
“Breaking Wind.” He cringed a little at the name. “She came with the name, and it’s bad luck to rename a boat.”
I laughed for a solid five minutes. He joined in after about two.
Gabe produced a white plastic bag I hadn’t noticed before. He must have carried it from the car. There was a brown bag inside, a yellow smiley face on the outside. Gabe noticed me eyeing up the bag and explained, “Chinese. You do like Chinese, don’t you?”
Chinese takeout on a sailboat didn’t sound right, but I nodded anyway. “And what would happen if I told you I didn’t like Chinese?”
“Then I’d say I just found your one flaw.”
I laughed and sat back watching him as the wind blew through his hair. His white windbreaker danced in the breeze as we left the dock and started toward the open water.
“So tell me, Gabriel Monroe. Why does a boy from sunny Florida who loves to sail want to go to New York and become a lawyer?”
Gabe’s eyebrows caved in as he took a moment to think about his answer. “I guess because I want more out of life than my parents were able to give me. They struggled, a lot. I don’t want that for my future family.”