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“Hello?”
“This is a collect call from the Bergen County Jail. This call will be recorded and monitored. Pressoneto accept the charges. Presstwo—”
I pressone, cutting the robotic voice off. “What happened?”
“Hello. This is your brother, Jameson.” He’s obviously pissed and he’sstillbeing a jackass.
“I fucking know,Jameson.Bergen County?” I put him on speaker and Google the quickest route to the jail. It’s an hour from here, and that’s if I don’t hit traffic. Elise climbs out of bed and starts throwing on clothes. Panties. Leggings. A hoodie that saysCafé Cookieon the front.
“I need you to bail me out.”
“What did you do this time?”
A rustle on the other end of the line. “I’ve been advised by my legal team not to discuss it over the phone. Can you come get me or are you too busy with your new business group?”
“Jameson.” I pull my pants on. They look like hell. “I’ll be there in an hour. Ninety minutes at most.”
“Great. Thanks.”
Hehangs up onme.
The audacity of us both. What’s he going to do when I’m not here? When Mason has a baby to care for? CallRemy?
I hunt for my T-shirt, which is the driest item of clothing. Elise tucks her phone into her purse and runs her fingers through her hair. “I’m coming with you.”
“Jameson isn’t in a good mood. I should deal with it alone.”
She turns to face me, squaring her shoulders. “I don’t care. I’m coming.”
There are more arguments to be made, but not enough time to make them. And I don’t want to. “Good. Let’s go.”
8
ELISE
Obviously,I’m not going to let Gabriel walk out of my apartment alone.
I saw him when he put his brother on speaker and looked up the address for the jail. For a few seconds, he forgot to keep his charming, careless expression on his face. And he looked scared.
I don’t have to be in love with him to want to be by his side.
So now he’s driven us across the Brooklyn Bridge and through Manhattan. Gabriel steers us onto I-95, and then we’re headed north, toward the Bergen County Jail.
Golden fall sun heats the highway. It’s a clear blue day. Yesterday’s rain clouds have given up the fight, but the evidence of that downpour still clings to Gabriel’s shirt. He drives with narrow eyes and steady hands, focused so hard on the road that I wonder if he’s trying not to react.
“Are you mad at him?”
He cuts a glance at me, then checks his mirrors to change lanes. “At Jameson?”
“Yeah.”
“No.” He guides the SUV back into the right lane. “I’m not mad at him. This is what he does.”
“Charlotte mentioned that he gets arrested maybe more times than the average person.”
Gabriel cracks a smile that doesn’t last. “That’s a very Charlotte way to describe it.”
“You mean a Sunshine way?” That’s the nickname Jameson gave Charlotte. He continues to use it, even though Mason will probably never stop rolling his eyes. “She’s like that.”
