The Photograph
: Chapter Twenty

Gabe

Aelin’s plump lips stretch into a smile. “Thank you for coming this afternoon, Gabe. And thank you again for your donation.”

I pull out her chair. “You’re welcome, baby.”

She peers up at the painted ceiling of the dimly lit private salons of the restaurant before returning her soft gaze to me. “It’s beautiful in here.”

When a server approaches our table, Aelin sets her menu on the table.

“What do you recommend?”

The young woman’s lips twitch. “What are you hungry for?”

“Anything with mushrooms,” she says with a grin.

I can’t stop watching her, basking in everything that is her, so fucking hard I could pound nails. After dessert, Aelin leans close, puts a hand on my arm, and glances over my shoulder. There’s no one there.

“What is it, baby?”

Her face flushes, her eyes dip to my mouth while her hand wraps around the back of my neck.

“This,” she whispers.

She licks her way into my mouth, moaning as if she’s been dying for the taste of me.Fuck.

Not here.I push her off gently. “Fuck, Aelin. Don’t kiss me like that here.”

She pulls back on a shuddering inhale while her hand flies to her mouth. “I’m s-sorry.”

No, it’s not…“Baby—”

“Oh, itisyou, Gabriel.”

I clench my teeth as Vanessa sashays past the velvet curtains toward our table with shark-like focus on Aelin.The woman has no shame.

“How are you, my darling? I’m so happy we don’t have to wait until Tuesday before our date.”

It’s not a fucking date.

She turns toward Aelin, all smiles and intent. “I’m Vanessa. Gabriel and I are … old friends.”

Aelin smiles. “Hi, Vanessa. I’m Aelin.”

As I’m about to tell my lying, cheating ex to get lost, Aelin’s cell rings. She excuses herself and walks a few steps away from our table to take the call.

“Hey, Cara, what…?”

She pales and moves further away.

Something’s wrong.When she lowers her cell and raises shaking fingers to her mouth, I brush past Vanessa to get to her.

Pulling her to me, I tilt her trembling chin up. “Baby? What’s wrong?”

Her gaze is brimming with tears. “He died, our father died. I need to go to Cara… Cara needs me, I—”

Fuck.“I’ll take you home.”

During the silent ride, she’s quiet, staring at the window with her fingers curled tight around her cellphone. When the car pulls over in front of her house, she turns to me.

“I’m sorry again … for earlier.”

As soon as she steps out of the car, her front door opens on Cara whose face is ravaged with tears.

Her sister sobs. “Angel…”

Aelin hurries to her sister. “I’m here, my Cara.”

Before the front door closes, Cara wails like a wounded animal and Aelin crumbles on the floor supporting her sister’s weight.

****

Mike strides into my office and sits across my desk. “Have you heard?”

“How’s Cara coping?”

He sweeps his palm over his face. “Not well. Like the asshole hasn’t done enough to hurt them.” My brother shakes his head. The funeral’s going to be a hell of a shit show.”

“You’ve been invited?”

Michael sighs. “I take it you haven’t.”

Is Aelin angry with me?“Vanessa’s back.”

Mike’s brows hit his hairline. “The fucking original blonde.”

“What the fuck are you on about?”

He leans in. “All the women you date are clones of her. You keep them around for a few months and you leave them with expensive gifts as well as a designer clothes account when you break up with them.”

Fuck. Who talked?Before I can ask, Mike retrieves his cell from his back pocket and hands it to me. “Gotta say she’s got good timing. This is one of the picturesElle Décorran in their article on Holloway.”

The photographer has captured her mid-laugh, leaning toward the other woman from her team. She’s stunning.And she doesn’t want me to be there for her.

I hand Mike his cell back. “She’s going through a divorce, and Philip Hawthorne had an iron clad prenup, so she’s left with very little compared to what she had before.”

Mike frowns. “When did you see Vanessa?”

“Last night.”

“Weren’t you with Aelin last night?”

Yes, and she was kissing me“Vanessa showed up last night ‘by chance’.”

Mike leans in. “How did Aelin take it?”

After I pushed her off seconds before she learnt her abuser died?“Fine.”

When my cell rings, I pick up before the second ring and get on my feet. “Aelin, how are you, baby?”

Her voice is small. “I’m okay, uh… I… The funeral is on Wednesday.”

Pacing to the window, I make my tone gentle. “I can send a lawyer for you and Cara.”

“No. Chris, our lawyer, will be there. He says we should be there for the reading of the will anyway… But thank you.” She takes a deep breath, and I tense. “Gabe?”

“Yes, baby.”

“You … you can date Vanessa if you want.” She clears her throat. “I mean, it’s obvious you’re more than just friends, so if you want to, it’s okay with me. We …you and I, we can be friends—”

When I swear, Mike comes by my side and tilts his chin up in a question.

Pressing the cell tighter against my ear, my voice comes out hard. “Come again?”

Aelin sucks in a breath. “Gabe, us dating. It’s … it’s not working. Thank you for … for being … you with me. I have to go. Chris wants to talk to us. Bye.”

When she hangs up, I crush the cell in my fist.Thank you for being me with her? What the fuck does that even mean?

Mike frowns. “What’s wrong? The girls okay?”

I stare at my cell. “I just got dumped.”

My brother’s brows hit his hairline. “Why? What did you do?”

“Fuck if I know.”

****

Aelin

I pad slowly out of Cara’s room with a pile of her clothes in my arms I dump on my bed, careful not to stumble on the two suitcases opened on the floor. She’s finally asleep and I pack methodically for both of us, lots of black, comfortable clothing and heels—shoes for me, boots for her.

My father was my bogeyman. When I was little I was scared of the dark, so Cara told me to think of the colors of the rainbow before going to sleep.

After she left, I did it every night. We’ve moved so often, I’ve developed a super efficiency at packing, but this time is different because when we return we’ll be orphans.

I close my eyes and breathe deeply once, and again, until I’m a little more centered. I check my watch. It’s 2:08 AM, but I’m too wired to sleep.

In a single day, I’ve lost my father and … Gabe. My cell chimes. It’s a message from Chris to tell me he’ll pick us up at 8:00 AM.

The message is only addressed to me because he knows I wouldn’t be able to sleep. I reply with a thumb up to which he replies:Get some rest.

An hour later, I listen to his advice and fall into a dreamless sleep.

At 7:23 AM after I prep breakfast for Cara and Chris, I grab a cup of tea and go to my studio where I set a blank canvas on my sketch table and start to draw.

Tap. Tap.I jump and whip my eyes to the window.Who…?Staring at Gabe and Mitch, I open the door to let them in. Both dressed in black, the brothers stand before me looking … I don’t know.

Mitch pecks my head under Gabe’s intense stare.

“What are you doing here?”

He tilts his chin up and somehow looks bigger as he crosses his arms on his chest.

“We’re coming with you.”

This time I turn to Gabe. “Both of you?”

When they nod sharply, the resemblance between them hits me. Gabe’s wider, but the commanding presence is definitely in the genes.

This isn’t a battle I want to fight, and Cara needs Mitch. “All right. I’ve only made breakfast for three. We’re going to need more food. Let’s go.”

On our way to the house, I catch the reflection of their expressions in the backdoor kitchen as they glance at each other before they follow me in the house. Cara throws herself in Mitch’s arms at the same moment the doorbell rings.

“I’ll get it,” Gabe says, and as he makes his way to the front door, I hurry to the kitchen where I get busy whisking eggs for a gargantuan omelet.

A few seconds later, I wheel toward Chris’s gentle eyes. “Hi, Chris. Give me a second.” After setting my whisk down, I wrap my arms around him. “How are you?”

He steps back and frowns. “Have you slept at all?”

When I shrug, he pulls me back into his arms briefly. “I’ll be here, and I won’t let anything happen to you.”

That I know for a fact, so I touch his chest. “I know.”

When he retreats back to the living room, I resume my breakfast making.

“Do you need a hand, baby?”

I let the rumble of Gabe’s voice caress my skin before shifting my gaze to him. “Yes, please. Can you set the table up?” I point at the cupboards. “Plates and mugs are here.”

We work in silence, but his presence soothes me, and I bask in the little peace before the storm.

After a messy and somewhat subdued breakfast, Cara and I step out of the house, and I gape at the two chauffeur-driven cars Gabe organized to get us to Leslieville. My throat clogs, so I slip my hand into his extended one.

Chris rides with Cara and Mitch, who’s not leaving her side, while Gabe and I get in the second car. I slide next to Gabe who wraps his arm around me.

It’s going to take forever to get over him, but he’ll eventually understand I was right to let him go.

I squeeze his hand. “Thank you.”

He kisses the inside of my wrist. “You’re welcome, baby.”

I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes.

****

“Aelin? Baby, wake up, we’re here.”

I nuzzle deeper into my safe cocoon which happens to be Gabe’s shoulder. “Sleep. More.”

When I get caught in a mini earthquake of Gabe’s chuckle, still half asleep, I kiss his neck.

“Mmm. You smell so good.”

“Aelin.”

Oh, crap.I snap out of my sleepiness and sit up. “Sorry, did I drool on you?”

He brushes his fingers on my cheek. “No.”

After drinking some water, I breathe deeply and glance through the window on my side of the car. Hopefully, it’s the last time I’ll ever be here. I straighten my clothes and flick my hair back.

“How do I look?”

His eyes are soft. “Perfect.”

Will I ever get over him?

****

Erica booked us an entire floor of the only starred hotel of Leslieville, so we use one of the suites as the common room before settling in our respective rooms. I take the room across the hall from Cara and Mitch’s, and between Gabe’s and Chris’s.

Around 7:00 PM, as our little group enters the hotel’s restaurant, I scan the eatery where, apparently, all the demons of Leslie-Hell decided to dine out this evening.

God, I hate this place.

The family restaurant—the kind you replace in every country town—has round dark wooden varnished tables and armchairs upholstered in green velvet cushions surrounded by large booths, but looks smaller. Cara and I, bookended by the three men, walk in the dining room like we own the place.

At our table, right in the center of the dining room, I settle between Cara and Chris with Gabe and Mitch across from me.

A young server, barely out of her teens with heavily kohled hazel eyes and one side of her head shaved, brings a jug of ice water to the table as well as menus, and takes our order. Hamburgers all around, beers for everyone, and a glass of wine for me.

The atmosphere at our table is as relaxed as it can be. When Cara tenses, I turn toward the source of her sudden unease and narrow my eyes.

Mrs. Beatty—Beadie-the-beast, as we used to call her during her time as school Principal—guardian of the rampant hypocrisy and puritanical values of Leslieville, walks—stomps—to our table. Dressed in a too tight skirt and a too large lavender blouse, she fans her pudgy, sweaty face with one of the laminated drink menus.

“Good evening, girls. I’m pleased you’ve come to pay your respects to your father.” She shifts her eyes to mine and her thin lips tighten. “Even after the awful situation you put him in.”

When silence befalls the room, I peek behind her and shake my head. We have an audience, and they’re not even trying to be subtle about their gawking.

Before Cara says anything, I smile at the hateful woman.

“Well, Mrs. Beatty, we all know how important my father’sfeelingsmattered to all of you.”

She sways back while her pudgy hand fans faster. Her too-close bird eyes blink fast as she puffs out her chest and her lips twist in an ugly snicker.

“Listen, girl—”

Gabe shifts to the she-devil who steps back.

“No, you listen, lady. I don’t know who you are, and I don’t care. You came and spat your venom. Now walk away before I make you.”

She glares at him while I hold my breath. Gabe leans in. “I said, get out of my sight.”

The horrible woman makes a sound between a grunt and a gasp before scuttling back to her table. After a few seconds of deafening silence, the din of the restaurant returns, utensils clatter against plates, servers re-enter the choreography of service, and I lean back into my chair.

I beam at Gabe and bite into my burger.

The next morning, dressed in one of my favorite black dresses and decadently high heels, I knock on Gabe’s bedroom door. He opens the door and my heart flutters. He’s just out of the shower, his skin glistens, his damp hair swept back while a tiny towel hangs low on his hips.

“Come in, baby.”

I shake my head. “Can you … stay with me today? I mean…”

“Whatever you need.”

I need your arms around me. I rub my arms and after a quick thank you, return to my room.