Page 70 of Haze


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"There's my friend now." She looks around me towards a woman who just walked through the door. She's tall, beautiful, her hair spiky and black.

"Sage." Tiffany stretches her hand out to the woman. "This is Isla."

The woman stops short of where we're standing, her gaze raking me from head-to-toe before a sly smile takes over her mouth. "I know Isla, or technically, I've seen Isla before."

"At the Liore boutique?" Tiffany asks. "It's where I met her too."

"It wasn't there." Sage gestures towards the door. "It was just down the street from here. I saw you at Skyn."

My hand darts up to cover my chest even though the dress I'm wearing does that for me. "You saw me at Skyn?"

"Well, fuck me…" her voice trails as her eyes scan the restaurant. "You're not here with Gabriel, are you?"

I glance back to where he's still seated, his head in a deep conversation. "You know Gabriel?"

She laughs then. It's not sweet or filled with any notes of enjoyment. It's dark, almost sinister. "Do I know Gabriel?"

The answer is clear. He's fucked her.

"That's the Gabriel you did all that fucked up shit with?" Tiffany giggles. "He's the one? You're not talking about Gabriel Foster, are you?"

I pull in a ragged breath. "I should go."

"You should stay so you can tell me how the fuck he found you." Sage's hand wraps around my wrist. "He picked you out in the club but then you dropped your bag and the night went straight to hell."

"He picked me out?" I ask, my voice a clear reflection of my emotions. It's shaky, quiet, confused.

"I actually had a friend all primed for him that night." She snaps her fingers in front of my face. "Then, boom, he spots you shaking your pretty little ass on the dance floor and he decides you're the one."

"The one?" I stare at her face.

"He was there trolling for a fuck and apparently you're his type."

"Isla." His voice cracks through the space.

I turn towards him but he's already next to me. "Sage, keep your fucking mouth shut."

"Oh Christ, Gabriel." She pushes his shoulder. "You already told her all this, no? What I want to know is how did you track her down?"

"We're leaving." His hand is on the small of my back. "Isla, now."

"He gets off on that, Isla," Sage calls after us. "Big, bossy Gabriel."

I don't hear anything else she says as we brush past the table and I pick up my poetry, shoving it back into my bag.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Gabriel

She looks so small and breakable sitting in the car as she stares out the window. She hasn't said a word to me since we left the restaurant. I haven't spoken either. I'm not sure what words I can say that will wash away the pain she's feeling.

She poured everything out to me and less than an hour later, her heart was there on the floor of that dingy pub with Sage standing over it in victory.

I admit I was fearful when she'd called me earlier and asked me to meet her there. It was so close to Skyn. Much too close for my comfort but then she started telling me about her poetry and what she felt when we kissed and everything fell away.

I was ready to take her home as soon as she returned from the washroom but then Caleb called. One of our designers had quit in a huff after hearing through the grapevine about the Dante Castro debacle. I'd coached Caleb on what to say, word-for-word so he could repair the damage. I didn't want to handle it. I'd pushed it onto him so I could take care of Isla and in my haste to do that I didn't notice Sage's approach. I didn't see her walk up to Isla. By the time I did look up, the damage had been done.

"What did she mean when she said you picked me?" Her eyes stay trained on the window. "Did you pick her too?"

I watch as her hands fist around her bag, pulling it close to her chest, protecting not only its contents, but her heart. "Once, a lifetime ago, I had some encounters with her, yes."

Her shoulders tense. "At the hotel that you took me to?"

"No," I answer quickly, my eyes focused on her hands. "A cheap place by the club."

"She said you saw me at Skyn." Her voice cracks but she restores it in the next breath. "You were there the night I was?"

"Yes," I admit. "I went there that night."

Her gaze falls to her lap. "I talked about the club. You didn't tell me you saw me there."

I ache to reach over to touch her. I can't stand this distance. I can't breathe knowing she's upset with me. "You spoke about the club. You told me it was something you wanted to forget. You were humiliated by the experience. I didn't want to remind you of that."

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