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Gabriella
Ican’t think; I can’t focus. The phone call I got keeps running through my head, but at the same time, it’s going to have to wait, because there are more important things right now than my hurt feelings. One of Dominic’s employees has been badly hurt. Ed Wagner is missing. Carter obviously thinks that Noah might be a target, which is why he took off in such a tearing hurry. The idea that someone might hurt a small child—rage twists my insides, smothering the hurt and betrayal I feel.
We need to talk about what Dominic did—we absolutely do. But not now. “Are you okay?” I ask. It’s a stupid question. He doesn’t look okay. He looks terrible.
“No,” he says simply. “How can I be? Zack is badly hurt because of me. And now Ed…” He runs his fingers through his hair. “I need to find him. Can we skip the rest of the meal? I’m sorry, Gabby. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
“You don’t need to apologize. Of course, we can skip dinner.” I get to my feet. Goodbye, fifteen-course meal of deliciousness. “How will you find Ed?”
“Call around. The cops, the hospitals, I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “Carter had private detectives watching him, but he pulled them off after Judge Bass issued her order. He couldn’t have it traced back to him.”
“Private detectives.” I give him a small smile. “That sounds healthy and not at all obsessive.”
He flashes me a grin, and it’s so familiar that my heart aches. I’m crazy about Carter and Dominic. I’ve fallen in love with them. And they care about me too. They’re good men. Kind, generous, and thoughtful. They’re everything I could ask for. It feels silly and even petty to be angry with Dominic for what he did.
But I am.
I’m angry and betrayed and hurt beyond belief. Because he knew how important this was to me, and he steamrolled over my decision anyway.
Why, Dominic? Why did you do it?
The turmoil must show on my face because Dominic’s smile fades. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” I lie. There is a time and a place for the conversation we need to have, and that time isn’t now. I’m not a toddler; I refuse to throw a tantrum in the middle of a crisis. “I’m concerned, that’s all. Come on, let’s go find Ed.”
He fixes me with a piercing stare, and then nods. “Okay.” He stops to say something to our waiter, and then the two of us leave and walk to the elevator that will take us to Dominic’s penthouse suite.
My head is throbbing, and I feel the beginnings of a tension headache. An overwhelming need to be alone washes over me. I lean forward and hit the button for my floor. “Do you mind if I get off here? I’m going to change into something more comfortable and swallow an ibuprofen. Call me when you find Ed?”
He surveys me for another long moment. “Headache?”
I nod.
He tips my chin up and brushes his lips over mine. “I love you,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry about our date. Get some sleep, okay? I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
Shock punches me. Did Dominic just say he loves me? Or am I hearing things? The elevator glides to a stop before I can respond or react, and the doors open. I take a half-step out. A minute ago, I wanted to get the hell away. Now, I don’t want to get out of the elevator. My emotions are swinging back and forth like a pendulum on steroids.
I need to think, and I can’t do that in his presence. “I’m not going to get any sleep tonight. Too much is going on; my mind won’t shut down. Call me when you find Ed.”
I should respond to his ‘I love you’ declaration. The words rise to my lips, instinctive and unbidden. I love you too. But I hold them back. I don’t know if it’s the right thing to say. Not yet. Not without having a talk about Fred Jefferson’s phone message.
Is that a flash of disappointment I see in his eyes? If so, it’s fleeting. He nods slightly. “Okay,” he says. “I’ll call you.”
I step out. The elevator doors slide shut. I stay where I am for a long time, before gathering myself and heading to my room. I wish I knew what to do.
I’ve just finished kickingoff my shoes and removing my makeup when Piper texts me again. Gabby!!!! I am dying here.
Piper. Of course, that’s who I need to talk to. My friend’s a romantic, but she’s also got a deeply practical streak. She’ll tell me if I’m overreacting.
I call her, and she picks up on the first ring. “Do I need to congratulate you or console you?”
I settle myself on the bed and lean back against the headboard. “A little of both.”
“I love it when you’re being cryptic.”
“Hang on, I’m getting there.” I absently examine the polish on my nails. The electric blue color is chipping already, and I just applied three coats over the weekend. Zero stars. Do not recommend. “Where should I start? Okay, I got back to Atlantic City. I’d just gotten out of the shower when there was a knock at the door. It was Dominic and Carter.”
“And?” I hear clattering in the background. It’s a little after nine. Piper must be closing up her kitchen.
