It’s like being punched in the gut and having a bucket of ice dumped on my head at the same time, seeing the tears escape from her eyes as suppressed sobs rake through her body, shaking hands attempting to zip up her dress. This is what I was trying to spare her by leaving, and it was for nothing. Worse than nothing. I made her hate me.
“You’re going to be okay,” she says again, wiping her face as she straightens her back and hardens her gaze. “You are okay.”
With those words, she makes a swift exit, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Five years. I stole five years of her life, her happiness, her peace of mind. She’ll never stop resenting me for that, and I can’t blame her.
The thought that Phoebe won’t ever forgive me makes me feel sick to my stomach, and I resolve to make it my personal mission to make sure she does. I don’t care about getting her back; falling for her again is the farthest thing from my mind after witnessing the lingering effects of my leaving, but I can’t live in a world where Phoebe Jenkins despises me.
Chapter Five
Andy
“It seems we’re at an impasse.” Gabe opens the meeting, apparently recovered from his encounter with Leanne, clicking his ballpoint pen in what gives the impression of a distracted gesture, but I know he’s trying to break the concentration of the people sitting across from him. He told me about this MO once. I admit, I was skeptical up to this point, but even I want to grab the pen and break it in half, a sentiment Hirsch seems to relate to with his fists clenching and unclenching, and an irritated leer locked onto Gabe’s hand.
“The client will send a professional hotel manager to uphold the estate terms,” Phoebe replies flatly, all signs of her breakdown less than fifteen minutes earlier gone and clearly unfazed by Gabe’s war tactics. “However, we’d like to come down to inspect the property and the finances first.”
“Of course,” Gabe agrees, glancing sideways at me. He didn’t miss how she said “the client” rather than her client, either.
“And it will be counted as within the year,” Phoebe continues. Gabe places his pen on the table.
“No,” he deadpans.
“Proper assessment of the property, including any renovations needed, is an integral part of properly operating the inn.” Phoebe doesn’t seem impressed by Gabe’s show of attempted stonewalling. “Alternatively, we could send the manager straight in, let them open shop without due diligence, and hope all goes well.”
“Also, not an option.” His voice is still firm, but I see Gabe shift in his chair uncomfortably and can’t suppress a small smile.
“Well, Mr. Walsh, then we truly are at an impasse.” Phoebe directs her piercing gaze at Gabe. I don’t miss how his eyes slightly widen in fear, and neither does Phoebe; a flash of satisfaction passes over her features, and though I know I don’t have the right, I still feel a sense of overwhelming pride.
I missed the strength and determination that rolls off her. How it steadies me and gives me the impression that I have solid ground to stand on. Only I don’t, not anymore. Which sucks because I could really use a little island on the horizon, something to provide a much-needed break from the feeling of constantly trying to keep my head above water.
“I, um, guess we are.” Gabe clears his throat and takes a deep breath. “Claire would want The Lantern to be taken care of in the best way possible.”
“And I respect that,” Phoebe admits, her eyes softening.
“I know you do, which is why we’ll agree to your client’s terms on one condition.” My head swerves to Gabe in surprise. We never talked about stipulations other than what Claire wrote in her Will. “You have to be the one doing the due diligence and responsible for overseeing any renovation plans.”
“Of course,” Phoebe agrees.
“On-site,” Gabe adds, and my pulse jumps.
“Wait. What?” I ask in shock just as Phoebe shouts, “Oh, hell no!”
“Take it or leave it.” Gabe stands and buttons his blazer. “You have twenty-four hours, or I’m taking it back to the judge.”
My eyes meet Phoebe’s to see her expression mirrors my feelings—inner turmoil caused by a combination of anger, dread, and longing.
“I didn’t know, I swear,” I tell her, ignoring Gabe’s tapping foot as he waits by the door.
“Yeah, you’re not that stupid.” Phoebe’s eyes dart to Gabe with a menacing glare, and I feel the endless pit of nothingness inside my gut get a few feet deeper.
“Andrew, let’s go,” Gabe urges me, and I squeeze my eyes shut, exhaling.
“Look, I’ll talk to you later, okay?” I ask as I stand, and Phoebe just nods in distraction.
The tense silence is so loud even Leanne doesn’t attempt to approach us as we pass her station, returning Gabe’s curt nod with a small one of her own. Waves of hostility are rolling off me as we make our way back to the hotel, the cabby throwing fearful glances back every few minutes.
An explosive migraine is creeping up on me, every muscle in my body tense and my teeth grinding in effort to control my raging emotions. But Gabe just sits there, relaxed and contemplative, as if what he did was entirely okay, and didn’t fuck with my mind and my heart in ways I just couldn’t take right now.
His indifferent attitude just pushes me further into my anger, so much so that when we enter our hotel room, I grab his shirt and slam him against the wall hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs.
“What the actual fuck, Walsh?” I roar in his face, causing him to flinch for the first time since we left the firm. Despite being an inch taller than me, I tower over him, making him feel small and crowded, a trick I learned from interrogators I served with.
“It was the right thing to do under the circumstances,” he provides meekly, and I feel the rage stoked even further.
“Right by who?” I demand. “By Claire? She’s dead, and I need to figure out how to keep on living. I’m already hanging by a thread, Gabe. Losing Phoebe again will be more than I can take!” By the end of my sentence, I’ve loosened my grip and some of my anger.
“I’m sorry.” Gabe places a tentative hand on my shoulder. “But this is Claire’s wish, and I think you know that now that you’ve found Phoebe, you won’t ever be settled until you resolve this lingering thing between you.”
“Forcing her to the Grove isn’t the way.” I finally let my hands drop and shake my head, stalking to my bed and dropping on it with a heavy sigh.
“No, but it sure as hell beats trying to get it done here, with her bosses and client breathing down her neck,” he points out, and I can’t argue his logic.
“I guess so,” I relent.
“Look, I didn’t do this for you or against you. That woman scares the shit out of me.” I burst out into laughter at his admission, which Gabe ignores and goes on. “But I know she’ll play fair and won’t try to screw us over, so it’s the best thing for The Lantern.”
“You think she’ll play fair?”
“You don’t?” Gabe cocks his head to the side, seeming surprised.