His father had liked Gabrielle. She’d come to dinners at their house and he’d had many meals at hers. Her parents had treated him like a member of the family while Hank had welcomed her into theirs. For a gruff coot even back then, Hank had been fond of Gabrielle.
Derek sighed. “You aren’t going to shoot Gabrielle just because you don’t like her choice in subject matter.”
Hank glanced at him, defiance in his stare. “I don’t like being talked about. It’s been quiet around town for a long while. I’d like to keep it that way.”
“Just because you don’t hear people talking about the curse doesn’t mean they aren’t still whispering behind our backs. It’s a fact of life.” Derek grabbed the flier and scanned the page.
Apparently the Perkins-Stewart Public Library was hosting a lecture titled Curses: Irrational Psychological Suggestion, by onetime resident and bestselling author, Gabrielle Donovan.
Derek knew Gabrielle had written a number of books, debunking popular myths in print and then discussing those books on big-time talk shows. It was no coincidence that she’d chosen to study the occult and New Age, Derek thought. His past had defined both of their lives.
Although she hadn’t been back to visit, the town claimed her as their own local celebrity. The diner on Main Street had a signed photograph on the wall, although Derek had seen the signature and doubted its validity. He wouldn’t put it past Henry, the owner, to forge it instead of contacting Gabrielle and
asking for one.
Even Derek’s father was one of her fans—Derek had seen her books on Hank’s shelves. In reality, Derek wasn’t worried that his father would shoot her. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t cause trouble in other ways….
Derek placed the flier down on the picnic table and looked Hank in the eye. “You aren’t going anywhere near the library, Pop.”
“Want to bet?” Hank asked.
“Well, you sure as hell aren’t taking a shotgun.” Though Derek spoke to his father, his thoughts were far away, already in turmoil over the chance of seeing Gabrielle again. He’d spent enough time avoiding watching her on TV. Seeing her in real life would be far more painful. He didn’t need to worry about their reunion occurring over the barrel of his father’s shotgun.
Derek grabbed the rifle, intending to lock it up tight at his place or in the trunk of his SUV. There was no telling how easily an old rifle like this one could go off if Hank started waving it around to make his point.
Hank stamped his foot and shook his finger in Derek’s face. “You don’t play fair.”
“And you don’t play rational. Want to go to the mall with me and Holly?” Derek waved his daughter over.
“No. I have to pick up some things in town. Then I’m going to prepare a rebuttal to that girl’s speech tonight. No curse, my hiney,” Hank said, stomping toward his house.
Derek laughed and let him go. Hank was all bluster. Derek couldn’t imagine Hank showing up any place where the Corwin Curse was the subject of public discussion.
A discussion started by Gabrielle Donovan.
Damn. He couldn’t believe she’d returned after all these years.
He’d broken up with her after the prom. Post graduation, her parents had moved away, and she’d gone with them. At least he hadn’t had that summer to watch her, longing for something he could no longer have. But while they’d been together, his life had been spectacular. At eighteen she’d been the most beautiful, sensual woman on the planet. He could only imagine what the intervening years had done to her already lush body and china-doll-like face. With her mother’s French genes, she hadn’t been afraid of passion or sex, and they’d indulged in both often, until Derek realized it was no longer just physical attraction that kept him coming back for more.
She’d been smart, too, the only daughter of parents who were both professors. She had a sharp wit and had been insightful, understanding Derek’s love of high-stakes finances even before he had the money to indulge his passion. She probably wouldn’t be surprised to learn he’d gone to Columbia undergrad and directly on to Wall Street as a trader until he was hired by an investment-banking company and made himself rich from lucky, huge deals.
He’d made himself poor the same way, investing too much in a company that went south instead of north. These days Derek was a financial planner, getting his thrills by building other people’s incomes more slowly and sensibly, not toying with his own.
He shook off the memories and headed to where his daughter was trying to play fetch with Fred. The dog was lying on his fat stomach without moving, staring at the stick she’d tossed.
“Ready?” Derek asked her.
Holly wiped her dusty hands on her jeans shorts. “I’m ready.”
“Good.” He ruffled her long hair. “Let’s drop Fred off at the house before we go.”
Holly nodded and pulled the reluctant dog’s leash. Fred trotted along at her side.
“Daddy? What’s wrong?”
“Why would you think anything’s wrong?” Derek asked.
His daughter met his gaze, squinting as the glare of the sun hit her eyes. “Because you look sad.”