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“Nobody had any expectations of me. I got my first job because of my parents’ connections. I interned at a small advertising agency. One day, I overslept. I’d been out late the previous night, partying with some friends. I didn’t get back home until four in the morning, and the alarm didn’t go off. I got into work at eleven, freaking out and fully prepared for my boss to yell at me.”
“And?”
“She hadn’t even noticed I wasn’t in. I was that superfluous.” Her lips twist. “At the start, the poker was just youthful stupidity. Some of my friends bought Ferraris. I gambled.”
“At the start, you said. What is it now?”
Some unnamed emotion flashes across her face. “I’m saving up to start my own company,” she says. “My salary barely covers my bills. My parents would lend me the money in a heartbeat, but—”
“You want to do it on your own,” Dominic interjects. “As someone who inherited the Grand River, I can relate. How far away are you?”
She takes a sip of her water and avoids looking at either of us. “Another year, probably. Speaking of poker, I talked to Sammy. He’s working on getting me into the game here.”
It feels like a deliberate attempt to change the topic. The mention of Sammy drags my focus back to Noah as well. “Thank you.” I reach across the table and squeeze her hand. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”
The moment I touch her, a shock of electricity runs through me. The crazy chemistry that drew the three of us together seven months ago—it’s there, all there. It’s been lying dormant for months, and now it jolts back to life.
Gabriella inhales sharply. She feels it too. I stare into her deep brown eyes. “If you ever change your mind about dinner…”
She swallows but doesn’t pull her hand away from mine. “Are you asking me out?”
“Yes.” I glance at Dominic. I’m not the only one who wants her. Dominic made his feelings clear when he put Gabriella in the Rose Room. “We are. Tonight?”
“If Sammy comes through, I might be at a game.”
“Mitchell’s games don’t start until ten,” Dominic says. “We could eat before that. I know a great Italian restaurant. The lasagna will make you weep.”
Doubt flickers across her face. “This is a bad idea,” she whispers.
“Is it?”
She turns her attention to me. “My friend Bailey is in a threesome,” she says. “Her personal life has nothing to do with her work, and yet, she almost got fired from her job. People judge her because she’s in a relationship with two men. Daniel and Sebastian both work for themselves, and they’re relatively immune to the consequences of gossip, but they’re still the targets of it.” She jerks her head toward the door leading to the kitchen. “I go back to Manhattan when my gig with Nicky Z ends. But you live here. You have friends, neighbors, co-workers, and employees to think about. The parents of the kids that Noah goes to school with. They will all gossip.”
She’s not saying anything I didn’t think last night. And yes, from a strictly practical standpoint, she’s right. A threesome is an unconventional choice, and anytime someone deviates from the norm, tongues will wag.
But do I really care?
I still can’t pull my hand away. I slept with Gabriella seven months ago, and I haven’t been able to forget her. The scent of her, the feel of her, the way her hair was spread out on the pillow, the sounds of our lovemaking, the moans and the sighs and the soft whispers—these things are indelibly carved into my senses. I’m aware that chemistry isn’t love, but I’ve never felt this strong a connection to anyone.
She’s waiting for me to reply. “Under the circumstances, I think it’s safe to say that my boss isn’t going to fire me for being in a threesome,” I say lightly. “And as much as I like Maggie and Jerome, I really don’t need them to approve of my choices.” I fix my gaze on her. “Will you have dinner with us tonight?”
She pauses for what seems like an eternity, and then she gives me a small nod. “Yes.”
Gabby doesn’t lingerover her meal. She gulps down her sandwich and gets her apple pie to go. “What about ice-cream, dear?” Maggie asks. “Don’t you want any?”
“It’ll melt by the time I get to my room,” she says regretfully. “Just the pie, please, and my check.” She turns to us. “Sorry to eat and run,” she says. “I need to talk to my boss before he leaves for the day.”
“Put her on my tab, Maggie.”
“You don’t have to pay for my sandwich,” she protests. “I’m here for work. I was going to expense it.”
“I know I don’t have to,” I reply. “I want to. See you in a few hours?” I glance at my phone. It’s past four. “How about nine for dinner?”
She chews on her lip, considering the question. “What if Sammy gets me in the game tonight?”
“I’ll get takeout from Paesano and we’ll eat at my place. If that’s okay with you, of course.”
There’s a pregnant pause. Gabriella isn’t stupid. A late dinner, a drink or two, and then… Anything could happen after that. The three of us—we all want it, but for one reason or the other, we’re resisting.
Her eyes rest on Dominic. She gives him a contemplative look, and then her lips tilt up in a smile. “Sounds like a plan. See you tonight.”
She leaves with her apple pie. I text my assistant Michelle. Could you have the kitchen send up some ice-cream to the Rose Room?
Once that’s done, I look at Dominic. “You said you wanted to talk?”
He looks tense. “I’ve been soft-peddling around the issue,” he says. “But I think I just need to come out and say it. I’m done supporting this vendetta you have going with Ed.”
