Reflected in You: A Crossfire Novel (24 page)

“I’m glad to hear that.” I linked my arm with his and led him to Cary’s room.

We entered to the sound of my mother’s trilling, girlish laughter. She sat on the edge of the bed, with Cary smiling adoringly at her. She was as much a mother to him as she was to me, and he loved her so much for that. His own mother had hated him, abused him, and allowed others to abuse him.

He looked over and saw us, and the emotions that swept across his face in that moment caused a tightness in my chest. I heard Trey’s breath catch as he got his first sight of Cary’s condition. I kicked myself for not telling him in advance not to make the mistake of getting weepy like I had.

Trey cleared his throat. “Drama queen,” he said with gruff affection. “If you wanted flowers, you should’ve just asked for them. This is extreme.”

“And ineffective, apparently,” Cary rejoined hoarsely, clearly trying to pull himself together. “I don’t see any flowers.”

“I see a ton.” Trey’s gaze did a brief slide across the room, then went back to Cary. “Just wanted to see what I was up against, so I could beat out my competition.”

There was no way to miss the double meaning in that statement.

My mom rose from the bed. She leaned over and kissed Cary’s cheek. “I’ll take Eva out to breakfast. We’ll see you in about an hour or so.”

“Gimme a sec,” I said, passing the bed quickly, “and I’ll get out of your hair, guys.”

I grabbed my phone and charger out of my bag and plugged it into an outlet by the window.

As soon as the screen flickered to life, I sent a quick group text message to Shawna and my dad, saying simply:
I’ll call later.
Then I made sure my phone was silenced and left it on the window ledge.

“Ready?” my mom asked.

“As I’ll ever be.”

Chapter 13

I had to get up before dawn Tuesday morning. I left a note for Cary where he’d see it as soon as he woke up, then headed out to grab a cab back to our place. I showered, dressed, made coffee, and tried to talk myself out of feeling like something was off. I was stressed and suffering from lack of sleep, which always led to tiny bouts of depression.

I told myself that it had nothing to do with Gideon, but the knot in my stomach said differently.

Looking at the clock, I saw it was a little after eight. I’d have to leave soon, because Gideon hadn’t called or texted to say that he’d be giving me a ride. It had been almost twenty-four hours since I’d last seen him or even really talked to him. The call I’d made to him at nine the night before had been less than brief. He’d been in the middle of something and barely said hello and good-bye.

I knew he had a lot of work to do. I knew I shouldn’t resent him for having to pay for the time away with extra hours of work getting caught up. He’d done a lot to help me deal with Cary’s situation, more than anyone could’ve expected. It was up to me to deal with how I was feeling about it.

Finishing my coffee, I rinsed out my mug, then grabbed my purse and bag on the way out. My tree-lined street was quiet, but the rest of New York was wide awake, its ceaseless energy thrumming with a tangible force. Women in chic office wear and men in suits tried to hail taxis that streaked by, before settling for packed buses or the subway instead. Flower stands exploded with brilliant color, the sight of them always capable of cheering me up in the morning, as did the sight and smell of the neighborhood bakery, which was doing a brisk business at that hour.

I was a little ways down Broadway before my phone rang.

The little thrill that shot through me at the sight of Gideon’s name quickened my steps. “Hey, stranger.”

“Where the hell are you?” he snapped.

A frisson of unease dampened my excitement. “I’m on my way to work.”

“Why?” He spoke to someone offline, then, “Are you in a cab?”

“I’m walking. Jeez. Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed or what?”

“You should have waited to be picked up.”

“I didn’t hear from you, and I didn’t want to be late after missing work yesterday.”

“You could’ve called me instead of just taking off.” His voice was low and angry.

I became angry, too. “The last time I called, you were too busy to give me more than a minute of your time.”

“I’ve got things to take care of, Eva. Give me a break.”

“Sure thing. How about now?” I hung up and dropped my phone back into my bag.

It began ringing again immediately and I ignored it, my blood simmering. When the Bentley pulled up beside me a few minutes later, I kept walking. It followed, the front passenger window sliding down.

Angus leaned over. “Miss Tramell, please.”

I paused, looking at him. “Are you alone?”

“Yes.”

With a sigh, I got in the car. My phone was still ringing nonstop, so I reached in and shut the ringer off. One block later, I heard Gideon’s voice coming through the car’s speakers.

“Do you have her?”

“Yes, sir,” Angus replied.

The line cut out.

“What the hell crawled up his ass and died?” I asked, looking at Angus in the rearview mirror.

“He’s got a lot on his mind.”

Whatever it was, it sure wasn’t me. I couldn’t believe what a jerk he was being. He’d been curt on the phone the night before, too, but not rude.

Within a few minutes after I arrived at work, Mark came up to my cubicle. “I’m sorry to hear about your roommate,” he said, setting a fresh cup of coffee on my desk. “Is he going to be all right?”

“Eventually. Cary’s tough; he’ll pull through.” I dropped my stuff in the bottom drawer of my desk and picked up the steaming mug with gratitude. “Thank you. And thanks for yesterday, too.”

His dark eyes were warm with concern. “I’m surprised you’re here today.”

“I need to work.” I managed a smile, despite feeling all twisted up and achy inside. Nothing was right in my world when things weren’t right between me and Gideon. “Catch me up on what I missed.”

* * *

The morning passed swiftly. I had a checklist of follow-ups waiting from the week before, and Mark had an eleven thirty deadline to turn around a request for proposal for a promotional items manufacturer. By the time we sent the RFP off, I was back in the groove and willing to just forget Gideon’s mood that morning. I wondered if he’d had another nightmare and hadn’t slept well. I decided call him when lunchtime rolled around, just in case.

And then I checked my inbox.

The Google alert I’d set up for Gideon’s name was waiting for me. I opened the e-mail hoping to get an idea of what he might be working on. The words
former fiancée
in some of the headlines leaped out at me. The knot I’d had in my gut earlier returned, tighter than before.

I clicked on the first link, and it took me to a gossip blog sporting pictures of Gideon and Corinne having dinner at Tableau One. They sat close together in the front window, her hand resting intimately on his forearm. He was wearing the suit he’d worn to the hospital the day before, but I checked the date anyway, desperately hoping the photos were old. They weren’t.

My palms began to sweat. I tortured myself by clicking through all the links and studying every photo I found. He was smiling in a few of them, looking remarkably content for a man whose girlfriend was at a hospital with her beaten-half-to-death best friend. I felt like throwing up. Or screaming. Or storming up to Gideon’s office and asking him what the hell was going on.

He’d blown me off when I’d called him the night before—to go to dinner with his ex.

I jumped when my desk phone rang. I picked it up and woodenly recited, “Mark Garrity’s office, Eva Tramell speaking.”

“Eva.” It was Megumi in reception, sounding as bubbly as usual. “There’s someone asking for you downstairs—Brett Kline.”

I sat there for a long minute, letting that sink into my fevered brain. I forwarded the alert digest to Gideon’s e-mail so he’d know that I knew. Then I said, “I’ll be right down.”

* * *

I saw Brett in the lobby the minute I pushed through the security turnstiles. He wore black jeans and a Six-Ninths T-shirt. Sunglasses hid his eyes, but the spiky hair with its bleached tips was eye-catching, as was his body. Brett was tall and muscular, more muscular than Gideon, who was powerful without any bulk.

Brett’s hands came out of his pockets when he saw me coming, his posture straightening. “Hey. Look at you.”

I glanced down at my cap-sleeved dress with its flattering ruching and acknowledged that he’d never seen me dressed up. “I’m surprised you’re still in town.”

More surprised that he’d looked me up, but I didn’t say that. I was glad he had, because I’d been worried about him.

“We sold out our Jones Beach show over the weekend, then played the Meadowlands last night. I skipped out on the guys because I wanted to see you before we head south. I searched for you online, found out where you worked, and came up.”

Good old Google,
I thought miserably. “I’m so stoked that everything’s working out for you now. Do you have time to grab lunch?”

“Yes.”

His answer came quickly and fervently, which set off a little warning. I was pissed, extremely hurt, and eager to retaliate against Gideon, but I didn’t want to mislead Brett. Still, I couldn’t resist taking him to the restaurant where Cary and I had once been photographed together, in the hopes of getting caught by the paparazzi again. It would serve Gideon right to see what it felt like.

On the cab ride over, Brett asked about Cary and wasn’t surprised to learn that my best friend had moved across the country with me.

“You two were always inseparable,” he said. “Except when he was getting laid. Tell him I said hi.”

“Sure.” I didn’t mention that Cary was in the hospital, because it felt too private to share.

It wasn’t until we were seated in the restaurant that Brett took off his shades, so that was the first time I got a glimpse of the shiner that encompassed the area from his right eyebrow down to his cheekbone.

“Jesus,” I breathed, wincing. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “Makeup made it disappear on stage. And you’ve seen me with worse. Besides, I got a couple good hits in, didn’t I?”

Remembering the bruising on Gideon’s jaw and back, I nodded. “You did.”

“So . . .” He paused as the waiter came by and dropped off two glasses and a chilled bottle of water. “You’re dating Gideon Cross.”

I wondered why that question always seemed to pop up at a time when I wasn’t sure the relationship would last another minute. “We’ve been seeing each other.”

“Is it serious?”

“Sometimes it seems that way,” I said honestly. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Not now.”

We took some time to read the menu and place our orders. The restaurant was busy and noisy, the background music barely heard over the hum of conversation and clatter of plates from the nearby kitchen. We looked across the table at each other, sizing one another up. I felt the thrum of attraction between us. When he wet his lips with the tip of his tongue, I knew he was aware of it, too.

“Why did you write ‘Golden’?” I asked suddenly, unable to hold back my curiosity a moment longer. I’d been playing it off as nothing big with both Gideon and Cary, but it was driving me crazy.

Brett sat back in his chair. “Because I think about you a lot. I can’t stop thinking about you actually.”

“I don’t understand why.”

“We had it going on for six months, Eva. That’s the longest I’ve ever been with someone.”

“But we weren’t
with
each other,” I argued. My voice lowered. “Aside from sexually.”

His mouth thinned. “I understand what I was to you, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t get hurt.”

I stared at him for a long minute, my heart beating too quickly in my chest. “I feel like I’m stoned or something. The way I remember it, we’d hook up after shows, then you’d go about your business. And if I wasn’t there to put out, you’d grab someone else.”

He leaned forward. “Bullshit. I tried getting you to hang out. I was always asking you to stick around.”

I took a couple of quick, deep breaths to calm myself down. I could hardly believe that now, almost four years too late, Brett Kline was talking to me like I’d once wanted him to. We were out in public together, having a meal, almost like a date. It was messing with my head, which was already confused and scattered because of Gideon.

“I had the biggest crush on you, Brett. I wrote your name with little hearts around it like a lovesick teenager. I wanted desperately to be your girlfriend.”

“Are you kidding me?” He reached out and caught my hand. “What the fuck happened, then?”

I looked down at where he was absently twirling the ring Gideon had given me. “Remember when we went to the pool hall?”

“Yeah. How could I forget that?” He bit his lower lip, clearly recalling how I’d fucked his brains out in the back of his car, determined to be the best lay he’d ever had so he wouldn’t bother with other girls. “I thought we were getting to the point where we’d start seeing each other outside the bar, but you ditched me the minute we got inside.”

“I went to the bathroom,” I said quietly, remembering the pain and embarrassment as if the incident had just happened, “and when I came out you and Darrin were at the change machine getting quarters for the tables. Your back was to me so you didn’t see me. I heard you guys talking . . . and laughing.”

I pulled in a deep breath and tugged my hand away from him.

To his credit, Brett shifted in obvious embarrassment. “I can’t remember exactly what was said, but . . . Shit, Eva. I was twenty-one years old. The band was just starting to get popular. The chicks were everywhere.”

“I know,” I said dryly. “I was one of them.”

“I’d been with you a few times by then. Bringing you along to the pool hall made a statement to the guys that things were picking up between us.” He rubbed at his brow in a very familiar gesture. “I didn’t have the balls to own up to how I was feeling about you. I made it about the sex, but that wasn’t true.”

I lifted my glass and drank, forcing down the lump in my throat.

His hand dropped onto the armrest. “So I screwed it up with my big mouth. That’s why you bailed that night. That’s why you never went anywhere with me again.”

“I was desperate, Brett,” I admitted, “but I didn’t want to show it.”

The waiter brought our food. I wondered why I’d ordered anything—I was too unsettled to eat.

Brett started cutting into his steak, attacking it really. Suddenly, he set his knife and fork down. “I blew it back then, but now everyone knows what was going on in my head at the time. ‘Golden’ is our biggest single. It’s what got us signed with Vidal.”

The idea of closure made me smile. “It’s a beautiful song, and your voice sounds amazing when you sing it. I’m really glad you came up and saw me again before you head out. It means a lot to me that we talked through this.”