He chuckled. “What are you talking about? She’s not that bad.”
“No, no, it’s not that she’s bad, necessarily.”
“Well, then, what?”
“High strung. Perfectionist.”
Oh yeah. That he could see. He could also see that she seemed much more relaxed now, after getting her ink, having her emotional moment. Maybe after talking with him?
Nah. No way. He wouldn’t even let his mind go there.
Brian shrugged. “And now, after having that guy dump her like that? She’s kind of going through this…thing. I think it’s an early midlife crisis. She used to hardly ever drink, but now she’ll hit a bar in a heartbeat. Mom said there were a couple of nights that she didn’t come home, so who knows what went on there.”
That disturbed him. He got that she was in pain, and everyone needed to blow off steam, but she had such a bright future. He hoped she wasn’t spiraling so much that she ended up throwing that away.
“And now the clincher,” Brian said, sighing as he turned to go. “She came here.”
Ian wasn’t one to argue with his boss, especially when said boss knew Gabriella infinitely better than he did. But after talking with her, he had a much different viewpoint. He didn’t think her showing up here was about spiraling at all. He thought, just maybe, it was about finally healing.
For the way Gabby’s back burned, she could’ve been dragged shirtless down a gravel-covered road. Wincing with almost every move, she steered into her parents’ winding driveway and hoped she could get past her mother and to her room without being spotted. As she neared the house and saw the silver Lexus parked in the circular drive, she groaned out loud. Not only was she not going to get past her mother, apparently, but she wasn’t going to get past Sylvia Andrews either.
Candace’s mother wasn’t as much of a ray of sunshine as her daughter, and truth be known, Gabriella’s mother didn’t like the woman. But since it appeared their kids were getting married whether Sylvia liked it or not, they were making efforts to get along.
“Ah, that must be her now. Gabriella!” Her mother’s voice called from the living room off the foyer as Gabby let herself in the front door. She wished she could keep going straight ahead and mount the stairs, but dammit, she was caught, so she’d try to get through this as painlessly as possible.
When she entered the room where the two women sat, it didn’t escape her notice that Sylvia slightly lifted a meticulously shaped eyebrow at her appearance. For about the thousandth time, Gabby had just one thought: Poor Candace. She had to grow up with this woman.
“Hi!” Gabby said brightly. Maybe she should perch on the couch across from them in her shorts and—gasp—not cross her legs or something. That would probably give the woman a coronary, though.
“We were just speaking about you,” her mother said. If one were merely judging by appearances, Gianna Ross was the more imposing figure of the two. Intimidatingly beautiful with a rich Italian accent almost forty years in the States had done little to diminish, she commanded attention in any room she occupied. Next to her, Sylvia was almost nondescript, but between the two of them, Sylvia was definitely the shark.
Not that Gianna couldn’t bring down the thunder when she needed to. Brian, more than any of them, could attest to that; she’d actually shipped him off to her relatives in Florence once. Of course, after only a few months, they’d kicked him right back.
“All good, I hope,” Gabby said, emitting a light laugh as fake as any desire to be here that she tried to put forth. She didn’t need to be privy to any “poor, pitiful Gabriella” conversations. She might start screaming.
“Well, of course,” her mother said. Then she and Sylvia looked at each other and seemed to share a moment of silent amusement.
Gabby felt a prickling at the back of her neck. What the hell were they up to? She should have known, though, before her mother even bothered to open her mouth.
“We were just talking,” Gianna began a bit hesitantly, “and…oh, there’s no way to ease into this, I don’t suppose. Sylvia is organizing a retirement party for Phillip, and while we were discussing that, she mentioned that her nephew is coming in from Dallas to attend and—”
Ah-ha. That was where Gabby tuned her out. Jesus, really? She’d just been horrifically dumped three months ago. Like, in the worst way possible. The last thing she needed was to jump back on the relationship train—not that her mother was suggesting that, but even a date would be too much right now.
“—with the two of you living in the same city and everything,” Sylvia finished, having picked up Gianna’s pitch at some point.
“That’s thoughtful, really, but I am not in the market right now,” Gabby said as lightly as she could manage. Before they could launch in on her again, she turned to go…and totally forgot about the partially finished tattoo on her back, where the gauze Ian had placed over it was surely visible around the edges of her tank top.
The twin gasps from the women halted her in her tracks, and she sighed and turned to face them again.
“Gabby, what is that?” her mother all but wailed as Sylvia quickly looked down at her hands, her mouth set in a thin slash. Her tone told her she knew exactly what it was.
“I went to see Brian,” she said with a shrug, trying to suppress the cringe as her skin pulled tight. “Don’t get mad at him, though, because he wouldn’t do it himself.”
Gianna sighed and shook her head sadly. “Your skin is so beautiful, and Brian’s too. Why you want to mar it in such a way—”
“It isn’t marred,” she all but snapped, offended on Ian’s behalf. He’d been so damn nice to her, and his work was breathtaking. She couldn’t wait to have the finished product. It was going to be the most beautiful thing about her skin, in no way a flaw. “Don’t worry, Mom, you won’t have to see it if you don’t want to. I’ll be like Brian. I’ll keep it covered.” For probably the first time, she felt a bit offended on her little brother’s behalf too. He always covered his ink and took out his piercings when he had to be around either of the families—his or Candace’s—just to make them happy. And he never complained.
“You’re an adult, Gabby. Do what you want to do,” her mother said, though she could plainly hear the subtle tone of disapproval that Brian no doubt had been putting up with since his teenage years.
Thanks for that, she thought. Don’t mind if I do. Thirty-six years old, on her way to being a doctor, and still being lectured. But Sylvia would never conceive of fixing up her nephew with a tattooed freak if she could help it, so Gabriella had managed to escape that debacle at least. One small success.
“It was nice seeing you,” she said to Sylvia, who returned a weak smile. She had almost reached the door when her mother spoke again.
“Will you be home for dinner?”
“No, sorry.”
And finally the stairs were under her feet, and she could escape into the privacy of her room.
Damn Mark Easton for doing this to her.
She’d had it all, her entire life mapped out with her usual meticulous precision. Successful husband. House in Highland Park. Successful career. Kids as soon as it was feasible. It was her life, and she was supposed to be living it right now. But fate, the fickle bitch, had dropped her into some fucking alternate universe.
A universe where she lived with her parents because she was essentially homeless. Where she’d suffered the worst humiliation imaginable for any bride. Where she’d lost the man of her dreams. Where having a child before the age of forty was now a remote possibility, since she wasn’t inclined to ever put herself back into that situation again. If ever.