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“Dirty water dog with sauerkraut and mustard from the cart on fifth and fifty-ninth.”
“That’s oddly specific.”
MGM shrugs. “I’m a very decisive man. Once I find something I like, I stick with it.”
I blush. “Are we still talking food?”
“Possibly.”
“Can we skip the small, get-to-know-you first date talk?”
“Oh, so it’s a date?”
I roll my eyes.
“We sure can skip the small talk,” Gabriel says. “I just didn’t think you were ready for the big questions.”
“You have big questions?”
“Sure.”
“Like what?”
“What happened between you and Justin?”
I pluck a grape from the fruit bowl and stare at Gabriel while I chew on it. His brown eyes are fixed on me, open and warm, showing me he cares about my answer. He’s not just asking for the sake of it.
I sigh and make a decision: I’m going to give the Mighty Gabriel Mercer the benefit of the doubt.
I tear a blade of grass from the soil and twirl it between my fingers. “We met at a business conference six years ago. I know,” I add, looking at MGM, “irony of ironies. My business was still a start-up in every sense, without an impressive balance sheet to show yet and my clothing line had just launched. Justin was older than me and already knee-deep into the private wealth management loop. He’s a sleazeball, I can see that now, but I was twenty when we met, and I didn’t know better. I fell for him. We dated for a few years, but I never felt good enough around him.”
“Why?” The question is low, apparently calm, but I can feel the quiet rage simmering underneath. If Justin were anywhere close, he’d better run.
I throw the blade of grass away and pluck another one. “He’d always tell me what to wear to his business soirees, how to talk, what to say, what not to say, in what accent, not to make it that obvious I was from Queens. But I was young and gullible and took all the verbal abuse and gaslighting. So when Tom Cheney financed my A round at a thirty-million valuation, and Justin proposed two weeks later…” I stare at the sky, blinking back tears. “I was so naïve, it didn’t even occur to me that the timing was suspicious. I was already organizing the wedding when one night…”
Gabriel takes my hand, and I don’t pull away. I finish the story while he caresses my knuckles with his thumb. “We were at a party in the city. I didn’t know anyone else, but he still dropped me in the middle of this grand ballroom to go talk to one of his clients. After waiting for him for an hour, I went looking and found him in one of the private lounges with a young woman—one of those Upper East Side princesses. Technically, they weren’t doing anything wrong, but they were standing too close for comfort. They didn’t see me come in, so pathetic as I was, I hid behind a curtain to eavesdrop on their conversation.” I take a deep breath before repeating the hateful words. “‘Is it true your girlfriend went to community college because she couldn’t afford a real school?’ the woman asked. I stupidly expected Justin to defend me. Instead, he said, ‘Where did you hear that?’ He sounded embarrassed, as if he was ashamed of me. She chuckled. ‘Does it matter? Why do you hang out with the trash?’ At which point Justin said…” My voice breaks. I stare at the unfocused trees in front of me, my vision blurred by sour tears. “He said, ‘You know what’s the beauty of trash? You can throw it away at any time without remorse.’ And then they kissed.” I wipe a few tears with the back of my hand. “I don’t know if he had cheated on me before. But that night, I went home and read the prenup that I’d blindingly signed for the first time. It basically stated that if we got divorced, I’d get nothing and he’d get 50 per cent of my company.”
I look at Gabriel, expecting to find pity or even disgust in his eyes, but all I see is understanding and a reflection of my pain as if he wants to take the hurt on himself and free me from the damage it wreaked.
“That’s not all,” I continue. “Justin didn’t appreciate me calling off the wedding and did all he could to tank my B round. I almost lost everything because of him, twice. So, there you have it.”
Gabriel shifts on the blanket, coming to my other side where there’s no half-consumed food standing between us and engulfs me in a bear hug. The Earth stops, and the ground shifts. My world becomes one of warmth and muscular arms. And Gabriel’s scent burns in my chest and scorches my throat as I inhale it.
“It’s okay,” Gabriel says, smoothing the lines on my hand with gentle caresses. His voice, while velvety, is laced with steel. “I can make sure he never does business in the city again.”
I pull back, chuckling. “Now don’t go mafia boss on me. You were doing well, and Justin isn’t worth an act of revenge either, he’s nothing. At least now. But that’s why I didn’t want to get involved with another rich—”
“Cutie pie?” MGM interrupts, making me downright laugh.
I give in to an instinct I have fought with for the past two days and rake my fingers through the hair at the side of his head.
The smile dies on MGM’s lips as I touch him, and his stare becomes impossibly intense again.
“Let’s just say that after our first meeting, I had you pegged down as an arrogant, insolent villain.”
“And now?” he asks, the words coming out of his throat in a rasp.
“And now I don’t know what to do with you.”
