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Carter
I’m catching up on my emails when my phone pings. It’s a text from Gabby, one she’s sent to both Dominic and me.
‘Heard from Sammy. There’s a poker game tonight. I’m in! Just realized I have no clue what Ed looks like. Do you have a picture?’
My heart leaps. She’s in. She’ll be playing poker with Ed Wagner tonight. She’ll be able to tell if he’s drinking. If he seems high. She might even be able to talk to him and bring the topic around to Noah, and how Ed’s managing to take care of his son after so many years of indifference.
I should be ecstatic.
Instead, there’s a hollow pit in my stomach.
I pull up Ed’s booking photo, the one taken when he’d been arrested, and send that to Gabby. Then I stare at my screen, trying to work through my emotions.
On Tuesday—just two days ago—I’d been the one to broach the idea of Gabby spying on Ed Wagner. I’d been prepared to send her into the underground poker room that Denton Mitchell runs. Even though Mitchell loathes Dominic and me.
I’d assured myself that Gabby would be in no danger. Nobody knew that Gabby was connected to Dominic and me, and even if Mitchell somehow happened to find out, he wasn’t a total fool. Hurting Gabby would bring a world of trouble on his head.
I’d told myself that the risk was worth it. I had to do something to tip the custody battle in my favor. This was my best chance of catching Ed Wagner fucking up. Sure, Judge Bass seemed favorably disposed toward Ed at the moment, but would she take the same view if he were drinking again?
That was Tuesday. Today, my nerves prickle with unease, and all my justifications seem hollow. And I know what’s different. It’s Gabriella.
The last few months have been tough. Really tough. Custody hearings, family court, the constant ever-present dread of losing Noah. For years after Chloe’s death, I would have nightmares about walking into her house and finding her body. I thought I’d dealt with them, but when Ed had reentered my life, he’d brought those horrific dreams back with him. I’ve woken up far too many times, drenched with sweat, the image of Noah’s dead body overlaid on Chloe’s, both victims of Ed’s neglect. The dreams have been far too vivid, far too real.
And so, while I’ve thought about Gabby often this year, I thought I was using the memories of our one-night stand as a bulwark. A pleasant fantasy, and little else. I guess, on some level, I’d thought that my memories of her couldn’t be real. No one could be that unforgettable.
But then, last night happened.
It was hot. So ridiculously, impossibly hot. But it had also felt like more than just sex. I’d wanted to be with Gabriella. I hadn’t liked sneaking around, and I certainly hadn’t liked the idea of pretending not to know her. When Dominic had suggested introducing her to his fellow casino-owners, I’d inwardly cheered. The logical part of my brain knows she’s only here for a few weeks, but that hadn’t changed the way I felt.
You can’t let your resolve waver. You can’t afford to get attached. You know that.
The game is on. Gabriella needs money. I send her another text, telling her I’ll meet her just before she heads out. Dominic calls me an instant later. “I don’t like this,” he says without preamble.
Neither do I. Not that I can tell him that. My best friend has made his feelings clear; he wants me to set aside this feud with Ed and hammer out a joint custody arrangement.
“Do you think Gabriella is in danger?”
He hesitates for an instant. “No,” he admits reluctantly. “If Mitchell finds out Gabriella is with us, he’ll kick her out.” He takes in a deep breath. “It still doesn’t sit well with me. Not after last night…” His voice trails off.
Yeah. I know. It feels like I’m using Gabriella to advance my own agenda, and even though I’ve been upfront with her, I still don’t like it. Everything felt clear on Tuesday, and now, I feel waist-deep in a swamp of doubt, struggling to know the right thing to do.
There’s a long pause, and neither of us says anything. Finally, he clears his throat. “Did you have a chance to talk to the mediator Megan recommended?”
I’d crumpled up her business card and thrown it in the trash. “To what end?” I demand. “Ed’s winning, Dominic. He’s got sole custody of Noah. I’m allowed one phone call with my nephew every day, and that’s it. Why the fuck would Ed want to pursue joint custody?”
“For the same reason you should,” he replies evenly. “Because it’s in Noah’s best interests for his surviving family to get along.”
Shame envelops me. Would Ed be interested in negotiating? I don’t know. If I were in his shoes, after the roadblocks I’ve thrown his way, I don’t think I’d be able to. “If Gabriella finds something for me to use, maybe it’ll give me leverage in a custody battle.”
“Maybe you should stop seeing it as a battle,” he snaps, and then he hangs up on me.
I’ve made Dominic, who typically has the patience of a saint, lose his temper.
Fucking perfect.
Gabriella opensthe envelope I hand her in the elevator. Inside, there’s a thick wad of hundred-dollar bills. “How much money is here?”
“Ten grand,” I reply. “Should be enough to keep you in the game for a few hours. The winnings are yours, of course.”
