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“Sure,” she said, eyes sparkling with delight as she looked back and forth between Gabriel and me. She circled around to the other side of the counter, leaned on her elbows, and watched the two of us as she snacked away, like we were putting on an entertaining show.
I ignored her.
“What does ‘inspired to be inspired’ mean to you?” Gabriel asked.
I sighed, remembering what I’d said to his security guard in the lobby of his work building. “I write a blog.Confessions of a Serial Mood Killer.Being around you makes me so frustrated the words pour out of me.”
That was too much sharing. I didn’t like it. Didn’t want to do any more of it.
“Do you have any soft touches we could add to the living room?” I asked Gabriel, desperate to change the subject, move the focus to him.
“Soft touches?”
“It’s exactly what it sounds like,” I said. “Throw pillows, throw blankets, that kind of thing. Something that can soften all the hard lines, make this place feel homey instead of sterile.”
“I don’t spend much time here.”
“So that’s a no? Who doesn’t have a throw blanket? Where do you curl up and read or watch TV?”
“I don’t have a television.”
“Of course you don’t. Whatdoyou have?”
“Dwindling patience.”
“Ha!” Morgan grinned harder at the pair of us and popped an olive in her mouth.
I crossed my arms and tilted my chin up at Gabriel, basking in the bitterness of his dark eyes. From so close I could see that they were brown—a spiked ring of chocolate on the outside, so dark in the middle the irises almost bled into the pupil. There was intelligence there, brazenness, and a sharp bite.
I said, “Is that the image you want the world to see? Scalding espresso glares that burn unsuspecting grandmas?”
Gabriel continued to stare at me. His nostrils flared.
The temperature in the room seemed to rise ten degrees.
Inhale. Exhale. Break him before he can break you.
He ran a hand through his hair and snapped his gaze away, releasing me.
“This was a mistake.” He turned and stalked out of the room.
Did I just win?
I blinked once, twice, waiting for Gabriel to come back.
Morgan and I exchanged a look that spoke volumes in the way only two people who were basically attached at the hip their whole lives could.Did he just leave? Are we supposed to leave? What just happened?
Before either of us could express any of those sentiments out loud, Gabriel returned with an envelope in his hand. Something was different. Every movement he made was stiff as stone. He clenched his jaw so tight he might crack a tooth. Then he offered me the envelope.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Your payment.”
“For what? We haven’t done any work yet.”
“Cash payment is required before filming, as per your terms. You did not specify an amount as you said you would. I assume this will suffice. Take it.”
I took the envelope. There were a bunch of bills in there, all hundreds. I’d never had so much money at one time in my bank account, let alone in my hand. Instead of being delighted, like I knew I should be, my stomach dropped.
