We Have Till Dawn

“Hey there, gorgeous. Wine for you, beer for me, and two extras because one is never enough.” I slid in next to him rather than across from him. It was a tight fit, but no matter. This was the place to be for privacy and lewd behavior under the table.

Best part of the Caribbean theme? The mosquito netting that could be closed like a curtain, effectively shutting out the world. Here, it was just the two of us and bamboo. Or whatever wood imitation the booth was built from.

“It’s very loud here,” Gideon said. “I like the net, though. But we can still see through it.”

“It used to be regular fabric, but then Camila caught a bunch of fuckers doing blow in public, so… This is why we can’t have nice things.” I took a swig of my beer and squeezed his thigh.

“I’m sorry, I’m processing,” he informed me. “My mind is spinning with impressions and you doing…things.”

“What things?” Had I gone too far? Maybe this was a bad idea. We could always go back to the apartment.

“Just the way you act.” He shifted the wineglass closer to him and traced a finger along the stem. “You’re carefree and appear to have countless friends. Your behavior. Your laughter, your banter, how you made that Italian gesture—with your fingers under your chin?—and how easily you maneuvered yourself through the crowd with four drinks. This is nothing to you.”

“Hon, I’ve been working in restaurants on and off since I was fourteen,” I explained patiently.

“That’s only one thing. I understand you’ve had practice,” he said. Then he shook his head, visibly frustrated. “This isn’t me, Nicky. Your life is vibrant. You speak with your entire body, whereas I was raised not to stand out in a crowd because that’s embarrassing. How can I ever make a lasting impression in your life?”

Oh, fuck me. Was that something he aimed for? Because he’d already succeeded.

“The most colorful item in my life is a red tie that I wear at Christmas,” he finished.

“I have plenty of color in my life,” I agreed. “That’s why I’m not looking for color.” I waited until he made eye contact, and the uncertainty in his eyes nearly did me in. “Color can easily be translated into madness. There’s rarely a dull moment, no sitting still, very little stability, and no structure. And getting to know you has made me realize that’s what I need more of.” I sat up straighter so I could drape an arm along the back of the booth, and I rubbed his neck gently. “But should we really be talking about this, papito? As far as I know, we part ways in a month, and you go off to marry a woman who can have your kids.”

I needed to protect myself more than ever. Gideon was dangerous as he was, and if he was having doubts and getting attached too, it would possibly break me. ’Cause I knew I wouldn’t have the strength to walk away first.

And if there was one thing I’d learned from my years as a sex worker, it was that the husband never left the wife.

Gideon stared at his wineglass before bringing it to his lips and taking a big swallow of it. “Have you wondered… Good grief, that’s awful wine.”

I exhaled a laugh, my stomach tightening in anticipation of what he was gonna ask.

“If the circumstances were different…” He cleared his throat. “Would you be interested—I mean, have you considered—”

“Yeah. You?”

He swallowed and nodded minutely.

Fuck. My heart pounded against my rib cage.

For a moment, his façade shattered. He looked crestfallen and utterly lost. “I truly want a family. My own family spent decades building New York and forgot that families need building too. I’d walk away from everything they created for something bigger—a wife, or…you know, to come home to, and kids—people who are simply there.”

Then there was fuck-all I could do. My family meant the world to me, so it was impossible not to empathize with his wistfulness. At the same time, it hurt. It was the one thing I wouldn’t be able to give him, and it was clearly a deal-breaker.

“A family is a wonderful thing to be a part of.” I had to show him I understood him. “I get it.”

He nodded slowly and reached for the gin and tonic. “I always wanted a brother. My parents were loving and more affectionate than the rest of our family, but it still resulted in many lonely evenings. My father worked too much, and my mother was often away planning some benefit.” He took a tentative sip of the gin and tonic, then a bigger swig. It must’ve received a better grade than the wine. “What about you? You’re still so young, but have you thought about children and such?”

“Not really.” I scratched his scalp at the back of his neck the way he liked. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love kids. Love working with them, but no one’s gonna let me adopt. I don’t have the financial stability for that. I don’t even have a home.” I tried to lighten the tension with a chuckle, but I wasn’t sure it worked. “In short, it’s a conversation for once I have a place of my own, once I’ve gone into business with Anthony and we’ve expanded the academy, and once I’m in a committed relationship.”