“Absolutely,” he said, jumping in, Josh’s upset stomach be damned.
“Let me go tell the cook,” Gabriel said, and with that he excused himself and simply drifted away.
“Are you kidding?” Josh asked, looking a little ill. “Lunch?”
“I’m hungry,” Grace lied.
“No you’re not,” Hunter said, irritated. “You signed us all up for the bulimia express just so you didn’t have to distract Gabe by talking to him.”
“Maybe,” Grace lied again.
“Definitely!” Josh growled. “Dammit, Grace, if Hunter has to pull over so I can puke, I’m going to rip off your dick and shove it up your nose, and when I’m done there, I’ll—”
The sounds of footsteps stopped him from more dire threats, but the look he shot Grace was eloquent.
“Hello?” The man that emerged, walking steadily down the stairs, was in his early fifties and was as slender as a bamboo shoot. “I wasn’t aware we had guests. Gabe? Gabe, where did you go?”
Gabe came rushing into the foyer, looking as though the movement had cost him. “Sorry, Baba. I was telling Cook we’d have guests for lunch.”
The man—obviously Gabe’s father—had probably been handsome in his youth. His hair was a gray and wild halo around his balding pate now, and the eyes in his gaunt face had the dreamy, unfocused look of a man who spent his time immersed in the world of his work.
“That’s unexpected.” Laslo Hu gave them all puzzled looks, and Josh—showing himself to be Felix and Danny’s son—stepped forward with an extended hand and a smooth smile.
“Mr. Hu, I’m Josh Salinger. We didn’t mean to intrude on your lunch hour—I’m sorry—but my family had a business concern we wanted to address in private.”
Mr. Hu waved his hand in a sweet, vague gesture. “It’s fine. I’m sure Gabe will be happy to have young people to talk to. I’m sure it gets stuffy in here with only me.”
Laslo Hu smiled winningly at his son, and Gabe gave a shy, pleased smile in return.
“As it turns out,” Gabe said softly, with an inscrutable glance in Grace’s direction, “Dylan, Josh, and I went to school together.”
Grace remembered he was a real boy and took his place to shake Laslo’s hand. “Gabe and I were friends,” he said.
Gabe nodded. “You were a better friend to me than I deserved,” he said.
Grace’s heart gave two or three constricted beats in his chest, and he took a deep breath, trying to get oxygen. “We were young and stupid,” he said, meaning it.
Gabe gave a small smile. “Dad,” he said, his voice almost quavering with need. “How about Dylan and I set the table while Josh and his friend talk to you in the living room.”
Grace opened his mouth to say “Oh no—Hunter goes with me!” when Hunter gave him a direct, no-bullshit look.
A “This is your old business, Grace; go take care of it so I know you and I can be together without this crap” sort of look.
Grace swallowed. “Sure,” he said. “Setting a table. I can do that.”
Gabe let out a small laugh and gave a chin-bob to gesture Grace into the dining room. Hunter reached out and touched Grace’s elbow before he and Josh followed Laslo Hu to the living room, and Grace sent him a grateful smile. Maybe Hunter only thought he and Gabe should have some time alone. Maybe this wasn’t a test.
Because Hunter didn’t seem to want to test his grown-up-itude, and Grace, for one, was profoundly grateful.
Until he followed Gabriel and realized that now he was going to have to spend time alone with him.
But Gabe didn’t sprout horns and an injection kit and start drooling heroin distillate from needle teeth as they neared the elegantly appointed dining room. The furniture was clean—modern, without curlicues or embellishments. Chairs with gold cushions and a heavy square table with subtly rounded corners, all done in a blondish wood that was probably maple, sat in the center of the room. The carpet was a cream-colored Berber, and Grace wondered if Mr. Hu would come completely unglued if Grace accidentally spilled a plate of porkchops on it, like he had two weeks ago in Josh’s dining room. Julia had been okay with that, really—although she insisted he eat the porkchop with the most hair.
Grace figured he would rather not find out how forgiving Laslo Hu would be. He was just relieved Julia hadn’t disowned him.
“Here,” Gabriel said. “Put the place mats on. I’ll get the napkins.”
Grace did, noting the simple rattan place mats. He’d never thought of Gabriel as particularly domestic, but then, he and Gabe had been at that age where seeing the simple good of a set table for a group meal wasn’t something they could appreciate.
“You went back to college,” Grace said. That popped into his head. Gabe had graduated from Illinois State the year before, so sayeth Josh’s background check.
“Yeah.” Gabe gave a humorless laugh. “I had to do something. Rehab only works if you keep yourself busy.”
Grace felt his own swallow in his ears. “Rehab?” he rasped.
Gabe stopped distributing napkins rolled in bamboo napkin rings and met his eyes. “By the time I left you to die, Dylan, I was an addict. I’m sorry. I… I was supposed to make amends for all the bad I did back then, but there was so much. I started with my father and hadn’t gotten to you yet.”
Grace took a deep breath and tried to think of human words that would make this better, or let him off the hook, or make Grace able to breathe. And then Gabriel kept talking and all of that wasn’t going to happen.
“I… I know I’m probably the reason you’re here, by the way. Josh and that thug of his—”
“He’s my boyfriend, you asshole.” Oh! Hey! His mouth still worked.
Gabriel gave him a mild look. “My apologies,” he said, inclining his head. “I… I’m glad for you?”
“Good.” Grace gave up on decorating or setting or whatevering the table and sat down, folding his arms and glaring moodily. “Because after you almost killed me, I thought I was too much trash to even have a boyfriend. So thanks for that.” Wow. His mouth apparently had no Off switch.
Gabriel’s gaunt face went haggard. “I’m… I’m so sorry. I used to really love the way you looked at me. I couldn’t stand the idea of you looking at me and seeing the complete asshole I really was.”
Augh! Grace closed his eyes. “Why would you think you are the reason Josh is here?” he asked, because personal things were personal, and he didn’t have words for those yet.
Gabriel looked around the table. He’d been moving while they spoke, and silverware and napkins were nicely dispersed. Belatedly, Grace remembered Chuck and thought maybe they could have asked him in here and been up-front about things. Then maybe Chuck could be in here during this excruciatingly uncomfortable conversation, and Grace could float away like a rogue balloon.
“Because I did bad shit, Dylan.” Gabe pulled a chair out and sat facing Dylan before resting his chin on his palm. “I got in deep with bad people.”
“Sergei Kadjic,” Grace said, because he had been paying attention.