I reached for my water, drinking the rest of it when the servers assigned to our room returned with trays filled with drinks we’d already ordered, and appetizers Garrett and John Taylor Sr. requested ahead of time.
Soon, the table was filled with food, alcohol flowing. Laughter bounced off the walls, and through most of it, I was an outsider.
Until my mom reached out and set her hand on my forearm.
“So, honey. What are your plans now?”
My mom was wise. She was smart beyond smart. A single mom since my dad died when I was five, she was a detective with our local police department back in Washington. I loved her with my whole heart, but when we were around each other, we were oil and water. I couldn’t remember a time when we’d truly gotten along, or when she hadn’t condemned one of my current life choices. She had a very linear way of believing how life should be lived.
Like making plans. Sticking to them. Never deviating. The very idea of such structure was enough for me to break out in hives.
I took a sip of my red wine and slid my arm from beneath her soft touch, settling it into my lap. “I haven’t thought about it much.”
She was famous for looks that spoke a million words with her eyes and mouth alone. Currently her look was full of disapproval, bordering on losing her shit with frustration. Thankfully we were in a room filled with people she’d in no way make a scene in front of.
“You don’t actually think you can keep living off your brother and staying with Lizzie now that they’re married, do you?”
Of course I didn’t. “Knowing what I can’t do doesn’t mean I’ve decided what I want to do.”
She rolled her eyes, her lips thinning as she brought her gin giblet to her lips.
What my mom didn’t know was that I had plans. Lots of them.
Okay, so maybe they weren’t plans necessarily. But thoughts. Dreams. Ideas. They were plans in a hazy, I should go do this, kind of way. I had mountains of those. Just none I’d ever actually done before.
But now?
I could do them, right?
I could do anything. I had no job. No man. Few friends back in Seattle mostly because I’d met Kurt shortly after I started my new job at the salon and while my coworkers were great, I spent most of my free time with Kurt and his friends. Fortunately for me, and because my big brother was the most awesome man I’d ever met, he’d insisted on paying for my apartment so I could save my income until I had a decent enough clientele to live off of comfortably.
Sure I’d argued about it. I’d outright refused. Then, I figured what the hell. If my brother wanted to give me a few grand out of his millions to ensure I was taken care of, what was the harm? After all, that meant I could save my income for all those dreams of mine.
Now, what was stopping me?
“Gabrielle,” my mother sighed. “We’ve talked about this.”
Technically, she’d talked about it until she was blue in the face. I settled in for the lecture I’d heard a half dozen times in the last week alone since she’d been in town and cupped my wineglass in both hands.
“I don’t know how you think you can continue to keep living like this. Letting Garrett fund your lifestyle when he has his own family to provide for now, jumping from one job to another. You’re twenty-three, almost twenty-four years old. Don’t you think it’s time to start finding some stability? I mean, for God’s sake, look at your brother—”
“Hey, Gabby, can you pass me the salt?”
I jumped at Joey’s voice, the way his shoulder nudged mine.
My mom, just getting started in her why can’t you be more like your brother rant that began filtering in one ear and out the other before I was eighteen, still had her mouth slightly ajar.
“Sure, Joey.” I reached for the salt he could have easily grabbed himself and when I handed it to him, I swore his hand held mine longer than necessary.
“Thanks.” His head dipped in my direction. Dark eyes met mine that sent a swirl of something warm straight to my stomach. “You okay?”
“Fine.”
His eyes scanned my face, tiny little lines dug in at the outer edges of them. He’d heard. Awesome.
“Sure?”
“Sure I’m sure.”
“What are you doing after this?” He set down the saltshaker, not bothering to use it. Awesome, he really had asked for it just to interrupt my mom’s rant. How much he’d heard, how humiliated I was, were questions I wasn’t willing to ask.
“Sleeping.” Finding a new place to go, because really, my mom was right. The season was over, Garrett and Lizzie were married. I couldn’t use the excuse to stay in town because he was on the road so much. I could go back to my Seattle apartment, but then what? I hadn’t wanted to live in Seattle since high school, but I kept staying. In part because I didn’t want to leave my mom there alone. Mostly because I had no idea where else I wanted to live.
“I’m meeting the guys at the Venetian where they’ve shut down the outdoor terrace at one of their clubs for the team. Want to come?” He glanced at my mom, my brother, and then his brothers and family. “I think they’ll all be headed back to their hotels early.”
I hadn’t planned on doing anything, but Joey was right. Lizzie would be home and asleep and the last thing I needed now was to be suffocating in their home with my mom on a roll of let’s get Gabby’s shit together for her since she can’t do it on her own spiel.
“That sounds like fun,” I lied. “Thanks.”
“Should be a blast.”
Somehow, he didn’t exactly sound like it would be fun for him, either, but what the hell.
He’d saved me when I needed it. I’d make sure we both had an epic blast.
3
Gabby
My eyes were so dry I practically had to peel them open with my fingers. As they unstuck, a groan fell from my sandpaper scraped throat. Holy crap. Had I swallowed sand last night? Chugged saltwater by the gallons? Every bone in my body ached as I rolled over, groaning again, and then squinted.
Where in the hell was I? The bedroom walls were a dark, rich gray. White woodwork surrounding them. The dresser along the wall held a variety of mishmash items. Cash. Coins. Bottles that looked to be cologne or perfume. My body screamed in agony as I tried to sit up, grabbing the white, and comfy as hell duvet cover covering the silkiest sheets I’d ever touched, dragging it all up and over my chest.
“Holy shit,” I whispered, scanning my surroundings and freezing as I saw the bundle of covers next to me. The shape of a body beneath them with only a shock of dark hair visible.
My pulse raced and I quickly dipped a look beneath the covers. I had on a shirt. But not my shirt. My legs were bare. Underwear on. As panic bubbled and my heart sped, at least there was the familiar, physical proof that nothing had happened down there the night before. But as I tried to figure out how in the hell I got to this strange room, memories of last night were a large, black and blank slate.
“Oh fuck,” I whispered.
Joey and I had left the restaurant and headed toward the Venetian. On the way, we’d grabbed drinks outside, in those long bottleneck things that were draped around necks with a lanyard. I laughed so hard at one point I bumped into him and told him I had to pee. We had to find a bathroom, and as we stumbled through a casino I couldn’t remember, there were muted lights and the ringing of slot machines.