Epilogue – 3 Months Later
"If Gianna told you that Asher isn't your father's son, I think you need to accept that and drop it. Asher is a Foster."
I reach across the table to grab a piece of toast from Landon's plate. "I still think that he's my brother. I studied him when we went to see him perform two weeks ago. Don't tell me that you don't think he looks like me?"
"Your hair is the same color." He playfully pulls on a few strands of my hair. "He looks more like Gabriel than you."
That's true. Gabriel had come to the venue that night as well and when I saw him standing next to his younger brother, there was no mistaking the resemblance between the two of them.
"Remember what your dad said when you asked him about Asher?" He takes a bite of the bacon he prepared. "He told you that he'd already discussed it with Gianna and that Asher has a father he loves very much. He asked you to leave it be because there's nothing there."
I'd waited until I was back in New York after the Liore pop-up shop event before I asked my father about the timing of his relationship with Gianna. He was open about the details, telling me that their trysts had spanned a period of many years. Their relationship had been on-and-off but the pull was there for a very long time.
I wasn't shocked by that. I was disappointed and saddened but I understand now that my father's actions don't reflect who I am.
I can't imagine ever wanting anyone but Landon. He's fulfilled me in ways that have transcended the times we spend in our bedroom. I'd moved in with on, on a whim, right after we'd returned from Los Angeles.
I hadn't brought up his father during that time at all. One night, he did, and as I explained the details of my discussion with Frederick, Landon had gone from clenching his hands in anger to weeping over the loss of his father from his life.
He's never gone to visit him and I haven't again either. He's a part of our past now and until, or if, Landon chooses to change that, I'm going to honor what he wants.
"Are you going to come to Athens with me next month?"
I lean back in my chair, pulling his robe tightly around my body. "You asked me that same question an hour ago."
He cocks a brow. "I asked you that when I was buried inside of you because I wanted you to agree to it."
"You need to learn that you can't expect me to answer anything when you're fucking me." I lick the traces of bread from my bottom lip. "I can't talk when that's happening."
He follows my lead and his tongue lashes out to moisten his bottom lip. "We need to celebrate our engagement. I want to do that in Greece."
My gaze falls to the beautiful, round diamond on my left hand. He'd proposed last week when he came to my office. I'd looked up to see him standing in the doorway with the ring on his pinky finger.
I'd rushed into his arms then. He'd whispered into my ear that he loved me and didn't want to waste any more time. His heart knew I was the one. My heart knew too.
"I want to plan an engagement party here first." I reach for my smartphone. "We can invite my mom and that man she's being seeing, Bob. There's my dad, Dane, Bridget, Lilly will want to be there, your mom can come if she wants..."
His head falls back in laughter. "If she wants? You know she'll want to."
"It will be the beginning of our new life." I'm on my feet and around the table before he has time to say anything.
He pushes his chair back from the table and pats his pajama covered lap. "Sit here."
I gleefully slide into his lap, wrapping my hands around his neck.
"Every day that I get to wake up loving you is a new life for me, Tess." His lips glide along my cheek. "We're leaving out past behind us and building a future together. It's just the two of us."
I look into his beautiful, kind eyes. "The past is the past. Here's to our future."
He doesn't say a word. He doesn't need to. I feel it all when he lowers his mouth to mine and kisses me deeply.
Preview of HAZE – The Standalone
Featuring Gabriel Foster
"How long have you worked here?" His voice is cultured, deep and smooth. It's not uncommon to hear a voice like that in this boutique. I've worked here for six weeks now and at least twice a week a man with too much money and an insatiable need to see young women dressed in expensive lingerie will come waltzing through the doors.
"Welcome to Liore," I say softly as I glance to my left to where he's standing.
I have to look up. He's large, not just in height but in his shoulder's breadth. His eyes are a rich brown, his hair just as dark. His nose is sculptured and his jaw has a definite curve to it. The suit he's wearing is dark blue, perhaps even black. It's hard to tell under the chandelier lights that decorate this opulent space.
"Isla." His eyes hover over my chest before they settle on my nametag. "It's nice to meet you, Isla."
"It's lovely to meet you..." I pause. It's not only because I've been instructed to grab the name of each customer to give them a personal shopping experience. I want to know his name.
"Gabriel," he offers with a light touch of his hand on mine.
The name is oddly familiar. As I work to place it, I see him peering across the boutique at my boss. "Is there something I can help you find, Gabriel? Are you purchasing something for a girlfriend, or perhaps, your wife?"
His expression shifts slightly. "I have neither."
That's a pity but it's not. This is exactly the type of man I envisioned in my mind's eye when I arrived in Manhattan. I graduated from high school less than two years ago and my dreams of attending Julliard on a scholarship had vanished as quickly as my clean record when I broke one too many rules in high school.
"Is there something in particular that you're looking for?" I catch the faint wave of the hand of one of my co-workers across the aisle. I ignore it because when a customer is ready to buy, the store could be engulfed in flames, and I'm not moving an inch. The commissions here are the highest I've ever earned in retail and the secret to guarantee a big sale is to make the customer feel as though they're the only one in the boutique.
His eyes scan the various bras we have displayed before they move to the lace panties and garters. "If I asked you to try something on for me, Isla, would you do that? Would you take me into one of the change rooms with you?"
I've read the employee handbook. No, I skimmed it briefly while on my way to work that first day weeks ago. The number one rule is to never take a customer into the rooms. Men who lead you into those quiet spaces are craving more than a private fashion show. I know that. "I'm sorry, Gabriel. That's against company policy."
He studies my face carefully. The dark shadow around my blue eyes looks hideous in the alarming bright light of the morning, but in here it's sensual and alluring. My shoulder length blonde hair is straight today, a sharp contrast to my high cheekbones. I'm here to sell lingerie and the light pink wrap around dress I'm wearing accentuates everything it needs to. He hasn't walked away yet, so he's still primed to buy.
He closes the short distance between us as he steps towards me. "You don't strike me as the type of young woman who follows all the rules."
It's tempting. Not just because of the extra money I'd find in my pocket. "I don't follow rules, Gabriel. If you want a private show, I can come to your office after work."