“One of these days, Dom,” Colt reflected. “If I ever take over for my father, I hope I can call on you if the need arises.”
“You can, Colt.” I meant it. I’d do anything for Gigi, and he was her brother. Plus, I knew I was indebted to him as well. He kept talking about how he owed me, but I knew I owed him, too. He’d taken a huge mess and made it disappear like a magician. Whatever trouble he saw brewing on the horizon, I’d help him out if he needed it.
Gigi and I talked every day, too. She was shaken to the core. She told me about the contents of the crazy text message and picture Brock had sent, plus the note he’d left on her windshield. I’d had to punch a few pillows over that. Why hadn’t she told me? She explained she hadn’t wanted me to overreact. In retrospect, a big reaction would have been a good idea.
I’d known that boy was sick in the head. I’d known it, but I’d still nearly lost her to him. And he’d died. Maybe I was getting soft in my old age of 23. I’d seen enough dead bodies in my teens to think I’d be hardened for life, but Brock’s death struck me as a goddamned senseless waste. Deep down I knew he would have brought a world of hurt to a lot of people had he lived. But his death still felt like yet another bloodstain on my soul.
I needed to see Gigi. I needed to hold her, feel my lips against her soft skin, get lost in her scent, her sighs. She wanted to see me, too, but we were both aware that the ground was still shaky. Five days after the attack, no one had come knocking on my door. No one knew I’d had anything to do with Brock’s death. No one knew Colt or Gigi did, either. Colt didn’t even know that there was anything between us, and if he suspected he didn’t let on.
But it still felt like tempting fate. What if someone saw us together and wondered, remembered Brock’s jealousy over our rumored coffee date? What if some reporter started sniffing around and discovered Brock’s obsession? When I worked at the country club, of course Brock’s death was all anyone was talking about, and the speculation was rampant. Had it been a drunk driving accident? Had it been a suicide? I didn’t hear a whispered word about Gigi or me, but there was still a lot of fertile ground for someone to start suspecting.
We agreed on one week. We’d give this a week to pass, then we’d see each other again. It still felt like too long. After the night of her 19th birthday, I’d thought we were going to be spending a lot more time together. I’d done my best to keep things cool between us, but I was human. After she’d fallen asleep that night I’d sat by her bed, watching her so peaceful and gorgeous and I’d realized I couldn’t stay away any longer. Good things like what we had between us didn’t just fall into your lap every day. They were rare, maybe once in a lifetime.
She left for college in a few weeks. I’d planned on spending as much of it as I could with her. Then this happened, and here I was without her in my arms. Two more days, then we’d have a full week between us and that night. Then, nothing could keep me away from her.
Friday night, I had plans with my mother. She’d talked me into having dinner with her and her boyfriend. It was the last thing I wanted to do, but Gigi had dinner plans, too, so we agreed we’d meet up afterward. I could hardly wait.
* * *
§
* * *
When I walked into the restaurant on Friday night, the first person I saw was Gigi. What a small town we were in. It was like everyone knew everyone. She looked gorgeous but shaken, pale and tense. She must still be recovering from the shock of that horrible night last weekend. No wonder, she’d never seen anything like it.
Instead of her usual response to me, lighting up, rushing toward me like she couldn’t stand the distance between us, either, she gripped the back of the chair next to her and looked over at the people at the table with her. I followed her gaze and saw her father. And my mother.
My brain still didn’t get it. It was already overloaded with all the recent events, like I’d been working on a 10,000 jigsaw puzzle of a clear blue sky. I looked at them standing together, Gigi’s dad’s arm resting at the small of my mother’s back. I saw her smile up at him, then look over, see me and wave in greeting. But I still didn’t get it. I wondered if maybe Gigi had seen my mom waiting for me and introduced herself and her father, but that didn’t make sense because she wouldn’t know who my mom was. They’d never met.
“Dom!” My mom stepped around the table to give me a hug. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
I stood stiff, as if realizing I were suddenly part of a play I very much did not want to be an actor in. “What’s happening?”
“I want you to meet Richard.”
Gigi’s father rounded the table, too, and stood by my side with a hand extended for a shake. “How are you, Dominic. Good to finally meet you.”
Unfuckingbelievable. They had to be kidding me. I shook his hand and managed to sit, right next to Gigi, but I’d mostly stopped feeling my limbs. My mother was dating Gigi’s father? He was the big fish she’d reeled in? He was the one?
“I hear you work security for the club where we’re members!” Richard’s voice boomed with the deep confidence of a billionaire CEO. “I’ll have to put in a good word for you, see if we can get you running the show over there. If half the things your mother says about you are true, you’re the man for the job.”
I nodded and my mother filled in the silence with happy chatter about what a hard worker I was, how within a week of my having arrived in East Hampton I’d found not one but two jobs. I looked over at Gigi. She was looking down at the tablecloth like a stone statue. Woman in Shock.
“Have you two ever met, over at the club?” my mother asked.
I still couldn’t make words come out of my mouth. Gigi managed, “No.” It was obviously the right answer to give, but somehow it hit home even more than the rest of it. This was really happening.
“I was lucky to meet this one.” Gigi’s father put an arm around my mom, gazing at her with obvious affection. “If I hadn’t gone to Dr. Bockman that day in May we might never have met.”
That explained why he’d left Gigi in that big house by herself all summer. He’d been otherwise engaged. I rubbed my face and took a long swig of ice water, but it didn’t change the fact that this all was real.
I felt like I’d stumbled into a Telenovela. I hadn’t thought about those shows in years, but they’d been a big part of my early childhood. Whoever was looking after me, the one thing they all seemed to have in common was watching those soap operas. I knew them well, the melodramatic plot twists heightened by over-the-top acting with wide eyes and fainting spells, all topped off with camera work like slow-motion or close zooms onto the shocked faces.
But I wasn’t on the set of a TV show. This was really happening. My mother was dating my girlfriend’s father.
9
Gigi
No, no, no, no. This was not happening. This couldn’t be happening. I stared down at the tablecloth in the restaurant and used all of my will to change what was going on around me. Maybe life could be like a Sci-Fi show? This could be the moment at which I discovered I had superpowers, stopping time and bending minds.
I looked up. My father sat across the table from me, beaming at the woman sitting next to him who also happened to be sitting across the table from the man next to me. Her son, my true love, Dom.
I was not a superpower. I was fucked.
“And you’re about to start your sophomore year of college!” Dom’s mother practically bubbled over with enthusiasm and praise, telling me how lovely I was, how pretty and charming. All of my typical social skills failed me. I took a sip of my water.
“Gigi, why don’t you tell Brandi about the shop where you work. I’m sure she’d like to stop by and see it some time.” My father gave me a look, the equivalent of kicking me under the table. He hadn’t raised me to sit still and dumb. He’d raised a socialite, goddamnit, who could be relied upon to keep up a patter of conversation over a dinner table regardless of context.
“Um…” My mouth hung slightly
open and I stared at my fork, unable to stop forbidden moments from coming to mind. Dom and I at the beach. Dom in my bedroom the night I turned 19. The more I tried to stop thinking about what I shouldn’t be thinking about, the more it was all I could think about.
“Gigi has always showed a flair for interior design.” My father gave up on me and launched in himself. He’d always been better at bragging about me than I was myself. He told some funny story about how I’d draped our entire apartment in scarves at the age of four. I didn’t even remember it, but apparently it had made an impression.
I’d figured my father was seeing someone. The whole summer I’d barely seen him at the house or the country club, but I knew he was there in the Hamptons so it made sense. He’d never gotten serious with anyone since the divorce even though it had been over a decade, but he’d had plenty of arm candy. Sometimes I’d meet his lady friends as he called them at functions or events. But never before over a dinner like this.
“I understand you like cars, Dominic.” Now my father turned his attention to Dom, who seemed to have exactly my set of conversation skills. Zilch. “I’ll have to have you over and show you my collection.”
I choked on my water. His sports cars were his babies. He didn’t even like his own children poking around at them. He kept them in a separate facility like a stable for horses, not even in our garage.
“Everything all right, Gigi?” Dad’s voice had an edge to it. I knew he was displeased with me. My brothers Ash and Heath, they were the ones who gave him a hard time. They were the ones he had to worry about not going along with the program. Ash might even go so far as to make a scene in a public place. Not me, though. I was a good girl. I always had a smile on my face, always knew just what to say to smooth things over. I was a peacemaker, Daddy’s little girl. Never ruffled, never petulant.
But I’d had one hell of a week.