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Gabriella
Iam such a coward.
What can I say? I panicked.
Last night had been amazing. So great. And in the dark, ensconced between Dominic and Carter, I’d begun to hope. To dream. I’d fantasized about things like forever. And happily-ever-after.
But I’m not a princess with farm animal assistants, and life is not an animated movie. I cannot keep them.
This morning, I’d walked out into Dominic’s living room with its magnificent views of the water. Carter had looked up from his laptop and he’d smiled at me. Dominic offered me breakfast. It had all felt a little too domestic. It was everything I wanted, and nothing I could have.
Dominic might be able to blur the boundaries between ‘just-sex’ and ‘relationship-material,’ and still maintain his bearings. I can’t do the same thing. The more I hang out with them, the more I eat meals with them, the more we laugh and talk about our dreams, our flaws, our likes and our dislikes, my heart gets tangled in a thorny briar of hopeful what-ifs and if-onlys.
He invited me to stay for breakfast, and I’d blurted out the first excuse I could think of. Ignoring the look of disappointment that flashed over his face, I told him I had to work. And sure, my inbox is overflowing and I’m sure my notifications are out of control, but unless there’s a crisis of some kind, I don’t typically work weekends.
Then I told them I had to go to New York. Did I have plans to drive to the city? No, I didn’t.
So why did I say that? Why did I bolt out of there? Why am I in my car, about to embark on a two-hour drive? Why am I running away?
You’re falling in love with them.
“Fuck,” I swear out loud. “No. Tell me you cannot be this stupid.” It can’t be love. It has to be hormones or something. Maybe I’m starting my period, or maybe this is the after-effects of really good sex.
Sure. That sounds reasonable. Not.
My phone rings before I can fall deeper into crisis. I glance at the display. Blocked number. Damn it. As tempted as I am to swipe the call to voicemail, a lot of my clients have private numbers.
I pick up the call. “Gabriella Alves,” I say. Thank heavens my cell phone pairs with the rental car—merging on the Garden State Parkway is not a task I can do with a phone glued to my ear.
“Gabriella, it’s Vittoria Vitale. From poker?”
Okay, that’s literally the last person I expected to hear from. “Hi, Vittoria.”
“You’re probably wondering why I called.” She draws in a breath. “Do you want to grab brunch tomorrow?”
I blink in confusion. What is going on here? Has Vittoria found out I know Carter and Dominic? “Umm—”
“You’re probably busy,” she cuts in. “Never mind. This was a stupid idea.”
Is she just being friendly? Because I can relate to that. I moved to New York without any friends, and Bailey, Piper, Wendy, Katie, and Miki had welcomed me into their circle with open arms. Now they’re my best friends. It’s hard to make friends as an adult, and I still remember my first month in the city, when I didn’t know anyone. I’d been so lonely and homesick I’d wanted to fly back to London every weekend. The only thing that kept me from doing that was knowing that if I did, my coworkers would forever only see me as a spoiled rich girl.
Then I’d met Wendy at a bar, and I’d become part of the Thursday Night Drinking Pack. They saved me from feeling alone in a city filled with people, and I will love them forever.
“I’d love to do brunch—it’s one of my favorite meals,” I tell Vittoria. “Unfortunately, I’m heading to Manhattan for the weekend. How about next Saturday?”
“Yeah, maybe.” She sounds a little disconsolate, and then her voice brightens. “Or I’ll see you at the next game? There’s one on Thursday night. I’ll get Bulldog to send you the details.”
“Umm, sure. I think I can make that.” Carter said last night that he didn’t want me going to play at Denton Mitchell’s poker room any longer, but an innate sense of caution keeps me from telling Vittoria that.
“You better,” she quips. “You won a lot of money this week. Gotta give the house a chance to win it back.”
We exchange some small talk, and then she hangs up. That’s weird, I think to myself as I navigate the fools on the Garden State Parkway. Vittoria sounded down this morning. I wonder why.
