Reflected in You - Chapter 19

When I got to my desk, I found a voice mail from Christopher. I debated for a moment whether I
should continue to pursue the truth. Christopher wasn’t a man I wanted to invite any deeper
into my life.
But I was haunted by the look that had been on Gideon’s face when he told me about his
past, and the sound of his voice, so hoarse with remembered shame and agony.
I felt his pain like my own.
In the end, there was no other choice. I returned Christopher’s call and asked him out to
lunch.
“Lunch with a beautiful woman?” There was a smile in his voice. “Absolutely.”
“Any time you have free this week would be great.”
“How about today?” he suggested. “I occasionally get a craving for that deli you took me
to.”
“Works for me. Noon?”
We set the time and I hung up just as Will stopped by my cubicle. He gave me puppy-dog
eyes and said, “Help.”
I managed a smile. “Sure.”
The two hours flew by. When noon rolled around, I went downstairs and found Christopher
waiting in the lobby. His auburn hair was a wild mess of short, loose waves and his grayishgreen
eyes sparkled. Wearing black slacks and a white dress shirt rolled up at the sleeves, he
looked confident and attractive. He greeted me with his boyish grin, and it struck me then—I
couldn’t ask him about what he’d said to his mother long ago. He’d been a child himself, living in
a dysfunctional home.
“I’m stoked you called me,” he said. “But I have to admit, I’m curious about why. I’m
wondering if it has anything to do with Gideon getting back together with Corinne.”
That hurt. Terribly. I had to suck in a deep breath, then release my tension with it. I knew
better. I had no doubts. But I was honest enough to admit that I wanted ownership of Gideon. I
wanted to claim him, possess him, have everyone know that he was mine.
“Why do you hate him so much?” I asked, preceding him through the revolving doors.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, but the hot, driving rain had ceased, leaving the streets
awash in dirty water.
He joined me on the sidewalk and set his hand at the small of my back. It sent a shiver of
revulsion through me. “Why? You want to exchange notes?”
“Sure. Why not?”
By the time lunch was over, I’d gotten a pretty good idea of what fueled Christopher’s
hatred. All he cared about was the man he saw in the mirror. Gideon was more handsome,
richer, more powerful, more confident . . . just more. And Christopher was obviously being eaten
alive by jealousy. His memories of Gideon were colored by the belief that Gideon had received
all the attention as a child. Which might have been true, considering how troubled he was.
Worse, the sibling rivalry had crossed over into their professional lives when Cross Industries
acquired majority shares in Vidal Records. I made a mental note to ask Gideon why he’d done
that.
We stopped outside the Crossfire to part ways. A taxi racing through a huge puddle sent
a plume of foaming water right at me. Swearing under my breath, I dodged the spray and
almost stumbled into Christopher.
“I’d like to take you out sometime, Eva. Dinner, perhaps?”
“I’ll get in touch,” I hedged. “My roommate’s really sick right now and I need to be around
for him as much as possible.”
“You’ve got my number.” He smiled and kissed the back of my hand, a gesture I’m sure he
thought was charming. “And I’ll keep in touch.”
I made my way through the Crossfire’s revolving doors and headed for the turnstiles.
One of the black-suited security guards at the desk stopped me. “Miss Tramell.” He
smiled. “Could you come with me, please?”
Curious, I followed him to the security office where I’d originally gotten my employee badge
when I was hired. He opened the door for me, and Gideon was waiting inside.
Leaning back against the desk with his arms crossed, he looked beautiful and fuckable
and wryly amused. The door shut behind me and he sighed, shaking his head.
“Are there other people in my life you plan on harassing on my behalf?” he asked.
“Are you spying on me again?”
“Keeping a protective eye on you.”
I arched a brow at him. “And how do you know if I harassed him or not?”
His faint smile widened. “Because I know you.”
“Well, I didn’t harass him. Really. I didn’t,” I argued when he shot me a look of disbelief. “I
was going to, but then I didn’t. And why are we in this room?”
“Are you on some kind of crusade, angel?”
We were talking around each other, and I wasn’t sure why. And I didn’t care, because
something else struck me as more significant.
“Do you realize that your reaction to my lunch with Christopher is very calm? And so is my
reaction to your spending time with Corinne? We’re both reacting totally different from the way
we would have just a month ago.”
He was different. He smiled, and there was something unique about that warm curving of
his lips. “We trust each other, Eva. It feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Trusting you doesn’t mean I’m any less baffled by what’s going on between us. Why are
we hiding in this office?”
“Plausible deniability.” Gideon straightened and came to me. Cupping my face in his hands,
he tilted my head back and kissed me sweetly. “I love you.”
“You’re getting good at saying that.”
He ran his fingers through my new bangs. “Remember that night, when you had your
nightmare and I was out late? You wondered where I was.”
“I still wonder.”
“I was at the hotel, clearing out that room. My fuck pad, as you called it. Explaining that
while you were puking your guts out didn’t seem to be the appropriate time.”
My breath left me in a rush. It was a relief to know where he’d been. An even bigger relief
to know that the fuck pad was no more.
His gaze was soft as he looked at me. “I’d completely forgotten about it until it came up
with Dr. Petersen. We both know I’ll never use it again. My girl prefers modes of transportation
to beds.”
He smiled and walked out. I stared after him.
The security guard filled the open doorway and I shoved aside my roiling thoughts to
examine later, when I had the time to really grasp where they were leading me.
* * *
On the walk home, I picked up a bottle of sparkling apple juice in lieu of champagne. I saw the
Bentley every now and then, following along, ever ready to pull over and pick me up. It used to
irritate me, because the lingering connection it represented deepened my confusion over my
breakup with Gideon. Now, the sight of it made me smile.
Dr. Petersen had been right. Abstinence and some space had cleared my head. Somehow,
the distance between me and Gideon had made us stronger, made us appreciate each other
more and take less for granted. I loved him more now than I ever had, and I felt that way while I
was planning on a night just hanging out with my roommate, having no idea where Gideon was
or who he might be with. It didn’t matter. I knew I was in his thoughts, in his heart.
My phone rang and I pulled it out of my purse. Seeing my mother’s name on the screen, I
answered with, “Hi, Mom.”
“I don’t understand what they’re looking for!” she complained, sounding angry and tearful.
“They won’t leave Richard alone. They went to his offices today and took copies of the
security tapes.”
“The detectives?”
“Yes. They’re relentless. What do they want?”
I turned the corner to reach my street. “To catch a killer. They probably just want to see
Nathan coming and going. Check the timing or something.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
“Yeah, it’s also just a guess. Don’t worry. There’s nothing to find because Stanton’s
innocent. Everything will be okay.”
“He’s been so good about this, Eva,” she said softly. “He’s so good to me.”
I sighed, hearing the pleading note in her voice. “I know, Mom. I get it. Dad gets it. You’re
where you should be. No one’s judging you. We’re all good.”
It took me until I reached my front door to calm her down, during which time I wondered
what the detectives would see if they pulled the Crossfire security tapes, too. The history of
my relationship with Gideon could be chronicled through the times I’d been in the Cross
Industries vestibule with him. He’d first propositioned me there, bluntly stating his desire. He’d
pinned me to the wall there, right after I’d agreed to date him exclusively. And he’d rejected my
touch that horrible day when he had first started pulling away from me. The detectives would
see it all if they looked back far enough, those private and personal moments in time.
“Call me if you need me,” I said as I dropped my bag and purse off at the breakfast bar. “I’ll
be home all night.”
We hung up, and I noticed an unfamiliar trench coat slung over one of the bar stools. I
shouted out to Cary, “Honey, I’m home!”
I put the bottle of apple juice in the fridge and headed down the hallway to my bedroom
for a shower. I was on the threshold of my room when Cary’s door opened and Tatiana came
out. My eyes widened at the sight of her naughty nurse costume, complete with exposed
garters and fishnets.
“Hey, honey,” she said, looking smug. She was astonishingly tall in her heels, towering over
me. A successful model, Tatiana Cherlin had the kind of face and body that could stop traffic.
“Take care of him for me.”
Blinking, I watched the leggy blonde disappear into the living room. I heard the front door
shut a short time later.
Cary appeared in his doorway, looking mussed and flushed and wearing only his boxer
briefs. He leaned into the doorway with a lazy, satisfied grin. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself. Looks like you had a good day.”
“Hell yeah.”
That made me smile. “No judgment here, but I assumed you and Tatiana were done.”
“I never thought we got started.” He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it. “Then she
showed up today all worried and apologetic. She’s been in Prague and didn’t hear about me
until this morning. She rushed over wearing that, like she read my perverted mind.”
I leaned into my doorway, too. “Guess she knows you.”
“Guess she does.” He shrugged. “We’ll see how it goes. She knows Trey’s in my life and I
hope to keep him there. Trey, though . . . I know he won’t like it.”
I felt for both men. It was going to take a lot of compromising for their relationship to work
out. “How about we forget about our significant others for a night and have an action movie
marathon? I brought some nonalcoholic champagne home.”
His brows rose. “Where’s the fun in that?”
“Can’t mix your meds with booze, you know,” I said dryly.
“No Krav Maga for you tonight?”
“I’ll make it up tomorrow. I feel like chilling with you. I want to sprawl on the couch, and eat
pizza with chopsticks and Chinese food with my fingers.”
“You’re a rebel, baby girl.” He grinned. “And you’ve got yourself a date.”
* * *
Parker hit the mat with a grunt and I shouted, thrilled with my own success.
“Yes,” I said with a fist pump. Learning to toss a guy as heavy as Parker was no small feat.
Finding the right balance to gain the leverage I needed had taken me longer than it probably
should have because I’d had such a hard time concentrating over the last couple of weeks.
There was no balance in my life when my relationship with Gideon was skewed.
Laughing, Parker reached out to me for a hand up. I gripped his forearm and tugged him to
his feet.
“Good. Very good,” he praised. “You’re firing on all cylinders tonight.”
“Thanks. Wanna try it again?”
“Take a ten-minute break and hydrate,” he said. “I need to talk to Jeremy before he takes
off.”
Jeremy was one of Parker’s co-instructors, a giant of a man that the students had to work
their way up to. Right then, I couldn’t imagine ever being able to fend off an assailant of his
size, but I’d seen some really petite women in the class do it.
I grabbed my towel and my water and headed toward the aluminum bleachers lined up
against the wall. My steps faltered when I saw one of the detectives who’d come to my
apartment. Detective Shelley Graves wasn’t dressed for work, though. She wore a sports top
and matching pants with athletic shoes, and her dark, curly hair was pulled back in a ponytail.
Since she was just entering the building and the door happened to be next to the
bleachers, I found myself walking toward her. I forced myself to look nonchalant when I felt
anything but.
“Miss Tramell,” she greeted me. “Fancy running into you here. Have you been working with
Parker long?”
“About a month. It’s good to see you, Detective.”
“No, it’s not.” Her mouth twisted wryly. “At least you don’t think so. Yet. Maybe you still
won’t when we’re done chatting.”
I frowned, confused by that tangle of words. Still, one thing was clear. “I can’t speak to you
without my attorney present.”
She spread her arms wide. “I’m off-duty. But anyway, you don’t have to say anything. I’ll do
all the talking.”
Graves gestured toward the bleachers, and I reluctantly took a seat. I had damn good
reason to be wary.
“How about we move a little higher?” She climbed to the top, and I stood and followed.
Once we were settled, she set her forearms on her knees and looked at the students
below. “It’s different here at night. I usually catch the day sessions. I told myself that on the off
chance I happened to run into you off-duty someday, I’d talk to you. I figured the chances of
that were nil. And lo and behold, here you are. It must be a sign.”
I wasn’t buying the additional explanation. “You don’t strike me as the type to believe in
signs.”
“You’ve got me there, but I’ll make an exception in this case.” Her lips pursed for a
moment, as if she were thinking hard about something. Then she looked at me. “I think your
boyfriend killed Nathan Barker.”
I stiffened, my breath catching audibly.
“I’ll never be able to prove it,” she said grimly. “He’s too smart. Too thorough. The whole
thing was precisely premeditated. The moment Gideon Cross came to the decision to kill
Nathan Barker, he had his ducks in a row.”
I couldn’t decide if I should stay or go—what the ramifications would be of either decision.
And in that moment of indecisiveness, she kept talking.
“I believe it started the Monday after your roommate was attacked. When we searched
the hotel room where Barker’s body was discovered, we found photos. A lot of photos of you,
but the ones I’m talking about were of your roommate.”
“Cary?”
“If I were to present this to the ADA for an arrest warrant, I would say that Nathan Barker
attacked Cary Taylor as a way to intimidate and threaten Gideon Cross. My guess is that
Cross wasn’t conceding to Barker’s blackmail demands.”
My hands twisted in my towel. I couldn’t stand the thought of Cary suffering what he had
because of me.
Graves looked at me, her gaze sharp and flat. Cop’s eyes. My dad had them, too. “At that
point, I think Cross perceived you to be in mortal danger. And you know what? He was right.
I’ve seen the evidence we collected from Barker’s room—photos, detailed notes of your daily
schedule, news clippings . . . even some of your garbage. Usually when we find that sort of
thing, it’s too late.”
“Nathan was watching me?” Just the thought sent a violent shiver through me.
“He was stalking you. The blackmail demands he made on your stepfather and Cross were
just an escalation of that. I think Cross was getting too close to you, and Barker felt threatened
by your relationship. I think he hoped Cross would step away if he knew about your past.”
I held the towel to my mouth, in case I became as sick as I felt.
“So here’s how I think it went down.” Graves tapped her fingertips together, her attention
seemingly on the strenuous drills below. “Cross cut you off, started seeing an old flame. That
served two purposes—it made Barker relax, and it wiped out Cross’s motive. Why would he kill
a man over a woman he’d dumped? He set that up pretty well—he didn’t tell you. You
strengthened the lie with your honest reactions.”
Her foot started tapping along with her fingers, her slim body radiating restless energy.
“Cross doesn’t hire out the job. That would be stupid. He doesn’t want the money trail or a hit
man who could rat him out. Besides, this is personal. You’re personal. He wants the threat
gone without a doubt. He sets up a last-minute party at one of his properties for some vodka
company of his. Now he’s got a rock-solid alibi. Even the press is there to snap pictures. And he
knows precisely where you are and that your alibi is rock-solid, too.”
My fingers clenched in the towel. My God . . .
The sounds of bodies hitting the mat, the hum of instructions being given, and the
triumphant shouts of students all faded into a steady buzzing in my ears. There was a flurry of
activity happening right in front of me and my brain couldn’t process it. I had a sense of
retreating down an endless tunnel, my reality shrinking to a tiny black point.
Opening her bottle of water, Graves drank deeply, then wiped her mouth with the back of
her hand. “I’ll admit, the party tripped me up a bit. How do you break an alibi like that? I had to
go back to the hotel three times before I learned there was a fire in the kitchen that night.
Nothing major, but the entire hotel was evacuated for close to an hour. All the guests were
milling on the sidewalk. Cross was in and out of the hotel doing whatever an owner would do
under those circumstances. I talked to a half dozen employees who saw him or talked to him
around then, but none of them could pinpoint times for me. All agreed it was chaotic. Who
could keep track of one guy in that mess?”
I felt myself shaking my head, as if she’d been directing the question at me.
She rolled her shoulders back. “I timed the walk from the service entrance—where Cross
was seen talking to the FDNY—to Barker’s hotel a couple blocks over. Fifteen minutes each
way. Barker was taken out by a single stab wound to the chest. Right in the heart. Would’ve
taken no more than a minute. No defensive wounds and he was found just inside the door. My
guess? He opened the door to Cross and it was over before he could blink. And get this . . .
That hotel is owned by a subsidiary of Cross Industries. And the security cameras in the
building just happened to be down for an upgrade that’s been in the works for several months.”
“Coincidence,” I said hoarsely. My heart was pounding. In a distant part of my brain, I
registered that there were a dozen people just a few feet away, going about their lives without
a clue that another human being in the room was dealing with a catastrophic event.
“Sure. Why not?” Graves shrugged, but her eyes gave her away. She knew. She couldn’t
prove it, but she knew. “So here’s the thing: I could keep digging and spending time on this
case while there are others on my desk. But what’s the point? Cross isn’t a danger to the
public. My partner will tell you it’s never okay to take the law into your own hands. And for the
most part, I’m on the same page. But Nathan Barker was going to kill you. Maybe not next
week. Maybe not next year. But someday.”
She stood and brushed off her pants, picked up her water and towel, and ignored the fact
that I was sobbing uncontrollably.
Gideon . . . I pressed the towel to my face, overwhelmed.
“I burned my notes,” she went on. “My partner agrees we’ve hit a dead end. No one gives a
shit that Nathan Barker isn’t breathing our air anymore. Even his father told me he considered
his son dead years ago.”
I looked up at her, blinked to clear the haze of tears from my eyes. “I don’t know what to
say.”
“You broke up with him on the Saturday after we interrupted your dinner, didn’t you?” She
nodded when I did. “He was in the station then, giving a statement. He stepped out of the
room, but I could see him through the window in the door. The only time I’ve seen pain like that
is when I’m notifying next of kin. To be honest, that’s why I’m telling you this now—so you can
go back to him.”
“Thank you.” I’d never put as much feeling into those two words as I did then.
Shaking her head, she started to walk back down the stairs, then stopped and turned,
looking up at me. “I’m not the one you should be thanking.”
* * *
Somehow, I ended up at Gideon’s apartment.
I don’t remember leaving Parker’s studio or telling Clancy where to take me. I don’t
remember checking in with the front desk or riding the elevator up. When I found myself in the
private foyer facing Gideon’s door, I had to stop a moment, unsure of how I’d gotten from the
bleachers to that point.
I rang the bell and waited. When no one answered, I sank to the floor and leaned back
against the door.
Gideon found me there. The elevator doors opened and he stepped out, stopping abruptly
when he saw me. He was dressed in workout clothes and his hair was still damp with sweat.
He’d never looked more wonderful.
He was staring at me, unmoving, so I explained, “I don’t have a key anymore.”
I didn’t get up because I wasn’t sure my legs would support me.
He crouched. “Eva? What’s wrong?”
“I ran into Detective Graves tonight.” I swallowed past the knot in my throat. “They’re
dropping the case.”
His chest expanded on a deep breath.
With that sound, I knew.
Dark desolation shadowed Gideon’s beautiful eyes. He knew that I knew. The truth hung
heavy in the air between us, a near-tangible thing.
I’d kill for you, give up everything I own for you . . . but I won’t give you up.
Gideon fell to his knees on the cold, hard marble. His head bowed. Waiting.
I shifted, mirroring his kneeling pose. I lifted his chin. Touched his face with my hands and
my lips. My gratitude for his gift whispered over his skin: Thank you . . . thank you . . . thank you.
He caught me to him, his arms banded tight around me. His face pressed into my throat.
“Where do we go from here?”
I held him. “Wherever this takes us. Together.”

Categories: Reflected in You

Reflected in You - Chapter 18

When I exited the elevator on the twentieth floor, I was dry-eyed and determined. Megumi
buzzed me through the security doors and pushed to her feet. “Is everything all right?”
I stopped by her desk. “I have no fucking clue. That man is a total head trip.”
Her brows rose. “Keep me posted.”
“I should just write a book,” I muttered, resuming my walk back to my cubicle and
wondering why in hell everyone was so interested in my dating life.
When I got to my desk, I dropped my purse in the drawer and sat down to call Cary.
“Hey,” I said, when he answered. “If you get bored—”
“If?” He snorted.
“Remember that folder of information you compiled on Gideon? Can you make me one of
those on Dr. Terrence Lucas?”
“Okay. Do I know this guy?”
“No. He’s a pediatrician.”
There was a pause, then, “Are you pregnant?”
“No! Jeez. And if I were, I’d need an obstetrician.”
“Whew. All right. Spell his name for me.”
I gave Cary what he needed, then looked up Dr. Lucas’s office and made an appointment
to see him. “I won’t need to fill out any new-patient paperwork,” I told the receptionist. “I just
want a quick consult.”
After that, I called Vidal Records and left a message for Christopher to call me.
When Mark came back from lunch, I went over and knocked on his open door. “Hey. I need
to ask for an hour in the morning for an appointment. Is it all right if I come in at ten and stay ’til
six?”
“Ten to five is fine, Eva.” He looked at me carefully. “Everything okay?”
“Getting better every day.”
“Good.” He smiled. “I’m really glad to hear that.”
We dived back into work, but thoughts of Gideon weighed heavily on my mind. I kept
staring at my ring, remembering what he had said when he’d first given it to me: The Xs are me
holding on to you.
Wait. For him? For him to come back to me? Why? I couldn’t understand why he’d cut me
off the way he had, then expected me to take him back. Especially with Corinne in the picture.
I spent the rest of the afternoon going over the last few weeks in my mind, recalling
conversations I’d had with Gideon, things he’d said or done, searching for answers. When I left
the Crossfire at the end of the day, I saw the Bentley waiting out front and waved at Angus,
who smiled back. I had issues with his boss, but Angus wasn’t to blame for them.
It was hot and muggy outside. Miserable. I went to the Duane Reade around the corner for
a bottle of cold water to drink on the walk home and a bag of mini chocolates to enjoy once I
got through my Krav Maga class. When I left the drugstore, Angus was waiting just outside the
door at the curb, shadowing me. As I turned the corner back toward the Crossfire to start the
trip home, I saw Gideon step out to the street with Corinne. His hand was at the small of her
back, leading her toward a sleek black Mercedes sedan I recognized as one of his. She was
smiling. His expression was inscrutable.
Horrified, I couldn’t move or look away. I stood there in the middle of the crowded sidewalk,
my stomach twisting with grief and anger and a terrible, awful feeling of betrayal.
He looked up and saw me, freezing in place just as I had. The Latino driver I’d met the day
my father arrived opened the back door and Corinne disappeared into the car. Gideon
remained where he was, his gaze locked with mine.
There was no way he missed me lifting my hand and flipping him the bird.
Abruptly, I was struck by a thought.
I turned my back to Gideon and moved off to the side, digging into my purse for my phone.
When I found it, I speed-dialed my mom, and when she answered, I said, “That day we went out
to lunch with Megumi, you freaked out on the walk back to the Crossfire. You saw him, didn’t
you? Nathan. You saw Nathan at the Crossfire.”
“Yes,” she admitted. “That’s why Richard decided it would be best to just pay him what he
wanted. Nathan said he’d stay away from you as long as he had the money to leave the
country. Why do you ask?”
“It didn’t hit me until just now that Nathan was the reason why you reacted the way you
did.” I faced forward again and started walking quickly toward home. The Mercedes was gone,
but my temper was rising. “I have to go, Mom. I’ll call you later.”
“Is everything all right?” she asked anxiously.
“Not yet, but I’m working on it.”
“I’m here for you, if you need me.”
I sighed. “I know. I’m okay. I love you.”
When I got home, Cary was sitting on the couch with his laptop on his thighs and his bare
feet on the coffee table.
“Hey,” he called, his gaze still on his screen.
I dumped my stuff and kicked off my shoes. “You know what?”
He looked up at me from beneath a lock of hair that had fallen over his eyes. “What?”
“I thought Gideon took a hike because of Nathan. Everything was fine and then it wasn’t,
and shortly after that the police were telling us about Nathan. I figured one thing was linked to
the other.”
“Makes sense.” He frowned. “I guess.”
“But Nathan was at the Crossfire the Monday before you were attacked. I know he was
there to see Gideon. I know it. Nathan wouldn’t go there to see me. Not a place like that with all
the security and people I know around.”
He sat back. “Okay. So what does that mean?”
“It means Gideon was fine after Nathan.” I threw up my hands. “He was fine that whole
week. He was more than fine that weekend we took off together. He was fine Monday morning
after we got back. Then—bam—he lost his fucking mind and went crazy on me Monday night.”
“I’m following.”
“So what happened on Monday?”
Cary’s brows rose. “You’re asking me?”
“Grr.” I grabbed my hair in my hands. “I’m asking the fucking universe. God. Anyone. What
the hell happened to my boyfriend?”
“I thought we agreed you need to ask him.”
“I get two answers from him: Trust me and wait. He gave my ring back today.” I showed him
my hand. “And he’s still wearing the one I gave him. Do you have any idea how confusing that
is? They’re not just rings, they’re promises. They’re symbols of ownership and commitment.
Why would he still wear his? Why is it so important to him that I wear mine? Does he seriously
expect me to wait while he screws Corinne out of his system?”
“Is that what you think he’s doing? Really?”
Closing my eyes, I let my head fall back. “No. And I can’t decide if that makes me naïve or
willfully delusional.”
“Does this Dr. Lucas guy have anything to do with this?”
“No.” I straightened and joined him on the couch. “Did you find anything?”
“Kind of hard, baby girl, when I don’t know what I’m looking for.”
“It’s just a hunch.” I looked at his screen. “What’s that?”
“A transcript of an interview with Brett that was done yesterday on a Florida radio
station.”
“Oh? What are you reading that for?”
“I was listening to ‘Golden’ and decided to run a search on it, and this came up.”
I tried reading, but my angle was bad. “What’s it say?”
“He was asked if there’s really an Eva out there and he said yes, there is, and he recently
reconnected with her and hopes to make it work out a second time.”
“What? No way!”
“Yes way.” Cary grinned. “So you’ve got your rebound man lined up if Cross doesn’t get his
shit together.”
I pushed to my feet. “Whatever. I’m hungry. Want something?”
“If your appetite’s back, that’s a good sign.”
“Everything’s coming back,” I told him. “With a vengeance.”
* * *
I was waiting at the curb for Angus the next morning. He pulled up and Paul, the doorman for
my apartment building, opened the back door for me.
“Good morning, Angus,” I greeted him.
“Good morning, Miss Tramell.” His gaze met mine in the rearview mirror, and he smiled.
As he started to pull away, I leaned forward between the two front seats. “Do you know
where Corinne Giroux lives?”
He glanced at me. “Yes.”
I sat back. “That’s where I want to go.”
* * *
Corinne lived around the corner from Gideon. I was certain that wasn’t a coincidence.
I checked in with the front desk and waited twenty minutes before I was given permission
to go up to the tenth floor. I rang the bell to her apartment and the door swung open to reveal
a flushed and disheveled Corinne in a floor-length black silk robe. She was seriously gorgeous,
with her silky black hair and eyes like aquamarines, and she moved with a lithe grace I admired.
I’d armored up in my favorite gray sleeveless dress and was very glad I had. She made me feel
downright homely.
“Eva,” she said breathlessly. “What a surprise.”
“I’m sorry to barge in uninvited. I just need to ask you something real quick.”
“Oh?” She kept the door partially closed and leaned into the jamb.
“Can I come in?” I asked tightly.
“Uh.” She glanced over her shoulder. “It’s best if you didn’t.”
“It doesn’t bother me if you have company and I promise, this won’t take but a minute.”
“Eva.” She licked her lips. “How do I say this . . . ?”
My hands were shaking and my stomach was a quivering mess, my brain taunting me with
images of Gideon standing naked behind her, their early-morning fuck interrupted by the exgirlfriend
who wouldn’t get a clue. I knew how well he liked sex in the morning.
But then I knew him well, period. Knew him enough to say, “Cut the shit, Corinne.”
Her eyes widened.
My mouth curved derisively. “Gideon’s in love with me. He’s not fucking around with you.”
She recovered quickly. “He’s not fucking around with you, either. I would know, since he’s
spending all of his free time with me.”
Fine. We’d talk about this in the hallway. “I know him. I don’t always understand him, but
that’s a different story. I know he would’ve told you upfront that you and he weren’t going
anywhere, because he wouldn’t want to lead you on. He hurt you before; he won’t do it again.”
“This is all very fascinating. Does he know you’re here?”
“No, but you’ll tell him. And that’s fine. I just want to know what you were doing at the
Crossfire that day you came out looking as freshly fucked as you do now.”
Her smile was razor sharp. “What do you think I was doing?”
“Not Gideon,” I said decisively, even though I was silently praying that I wasn’t making a
total idiot out of myself. “You saw me, didn’t you? From the lobby, you had a direct view across
the street and you saw me coming. Gideon told you at the Waldorf dinner that I was the
jealous type. Did you have a nooner with someone from one of the other offices? Or did you
muss yourself up before you stepped outside?”
I saw the answer on her face. It was lightning quick, there and gone, but I saw it.
“Both of those suggestions are absurd,” she said.
I nodded, savoring a moment of profound relief and satisfaction. “Listen. You’re never
going to have him the way you want. And I know how that hurts. I’ve been living it the past two
weeks. I’m sorry for you, I really am.”
“Fuck you and your pity,” she snapped. “Save it for yourself. I’m the one he’s spending time
with.”
“And there’s your saving grace, Corinne. If you’re paying attention, you know he’s hurting
right now. Be his friend.” I headed back to the elevators and called over my shoulder, “Have a
nice day.”
She slammed her door shut behind me.
When I got back to the Bentley, I told Angus to take me to Dr. Terrence Lucas’s office. He
paused in the act of closing the door and stared down at me. “Gideon will be very angry, Eva.”
I nodded, understanding the warning. “I’ll deal with it when the time comes.”
The building that housed Dr. Lucas’s private practice was unassuming, but his offices were
warm and inviting. The waiting room was paneled in dark wood and the walls covered in a
mixture of pictures of infants and children. Parenting magazines covered the tables and were
neatly stored in racks, while the dedicated play area was tidy and supervised.
I signed in and took a seat, but I’d barely sat when I was called back by the nurse. I was
taken to Dr. Lucas’s office, not an exam room, and he rose from his chair when I entered,
rounding the desk quickly.
“Eva.” He held out his hand and I shook it. “You didn’t have to make an appointment.”
I managed a smile. “I didn’t know how else to reach you.”
“Have a seat.”
I sat, but he remained standing, choosing to lean back against the desk and grip the
edges with both hands. It was a power position, and I wondered why he felt the need to use it
with me.
“What can I do for you?” he asked. He had a calm, confident air and a wide, open smile.
With his good looks and affable manner, I was sure any mother would have confidence in his
skill and integrity.
“Gideon Cross was a patient of yours, wasn’t he?”
His face closed instantly and he straightened. “I’m not at liberty to discuss my patients.”
“When you gave me that ‘not at liberty to discuss’ line at the hospital, I didn’t put it
together, and I should have.” My fingertips drummed into the armrest. “You lied to his mother.
Why?”
He returned to the other side of his desk, putting the furniture between us. “Did he tell you
that?”
“No. I’m figuring this out as I go. Hypothetically speaking, why would you lie about the
results of an exam?”
“I wouldn’t. You need to leave.”
“Oh, come on.” I sat back and crossed my legs. “I expect more from you. Where are the
assertions that Gideon is a soulless monster bent on corrupting the women of the world?”
“I’ve done my due diligence and warned you.” His gaze was hard, his lip curled in a sneer.
He wasn’t quite so handsome anymore. “If you continue to throw your life away, there’s
nothing I can do about it.”
“I’m going to figure it out. I just needed to see your face. I had to know if I was right.”
“You’re not. Cross was never a patient of mine.”
“Semantics—his mother consulted you. And while you go about your days seething over
the fact that your wife fell in love with him, think about what you did to a small child who
needed help.” My voice took on an edge as anger surged. I couldn’t think about what had
happened to Gideon without wanting to do serious violence to anyone who contributed to his
pain.
I uncrossed my legs and stood. “What happened between him and your wife happened
between two consenting adults. What happened to him as a child was a crime and how you
contributed to that is a travesty.”
“Get out.”
“My pleasure.” I yanked the door open and nearly ran into Gideon, who’d been leaning
against the wall just outside the office. His hand encircled my upper arm, but his gaze was on
Dr. Lucas, icy with fury and hatred.
“Stay away from her,” he said harshly.
Lucas’s smile was filled with malice. “She came to me.”
Gideon’s returning smile made me shiver. “You see her coming, I suggest you run in the
opposite direction.”
“Funny. That’s the advice I gave her in regard to you.”
I flipped the good doctor the bird.
Snorting, Gideon caught my hand and pulled me back down the hall. “What is it with you
and giving people the finger?”
“What? It’s a classic.”
“You can’t just barge in here!” the receptionist snapped as we passed the counter.
He glanced at her. “You can cancel that call to security, we’re leaving.”
We exited out to the corridor. “Did Angus tattle on me?” I muttered, trying to pry my arm
free.
“No. Stop wriggling. All the cars have GPS tracking.”
“You’re a nut job. You know that?”
He stabbed the elevator button and glared at me. “I am? What about you? You’re all over
the place. My mother. Corinne. Goddamned Lucas. What the fuck are you doing, Eva?”
“It’s none of your business.” I lifted my chin. “We broke up, remember?”
His jaw tightened. He stood there in his suit, looking so polished and urbane, while
radiating a wild, feverish energy. The contrast between what I saw when I looked at him and
what I felt goaded my hunger. I loved that I got to have the man inside the suit. Every delicious,
untameable inch of him.
The car arrived and we stepped inside. Excitement sizzled through me. He’d come after
me. That made me so hot. He shoved an elevator key into the control panel and I groaned.
“Is there anything you don’t own in New York?”
He was on me in an instant, one hand in my hair and the other on my ass, his mouth on
mine in a violent kiss. He wasted no time, his tongue thrusting between my lips, plunging deep
and hard.
I moaned and gripped his waist, pushing onto my tiptoes to deepen the contact.
His teeth sank into my lower lip with enough force to hurt. “You think you can say a few
words and end us? There is no end, Eva.”
He flattened me into the side of the car. I was pinned by six feet, two inches of violently
aroused male.
“I miss you,” I whispered, grabbing his ass and urging him harder against me.
Gideon groaned. “Angel.”
He was kissing me: deep, shamelessly desperate kisses that made my toes curl in my
pumps.
“What are you doing?” he breathed. “You’re going around, stirring up everything.”
“I’ve got time on my hands,” I shot back, just as breathless, “since I dumped my asshat
boyfriend.”
He growled, fiercely passionate, his hand in my hair pulling so tightly it pained me.
“You can’t make this up with a kiss or a fuck, Gideon. Not this time.” It was so hard to let
him go; nearly impossible after the weeks I’d been denied the right and opportunity to touch
him. I needed him.
His forehead pressed to mine. “You have to trust me.”
I put my hands on his chest and shoved him back. He let me, his gaze searching my face.
“Not when you don’t talk to me.” I reached over, pulled the key from the control panel, and
held it out to him. The car began its descent. “You put me through hell. On purpose. Made me
suffer. And there’s no end in sight. I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing, ace, but this Dr.
Jekyll and Mr. Hyde shit ain’t cutting it with me.”
His hand went into his pocket, his movements leisurely and controlled, which was when he
was at his most dangerous. “You’re completely unmanageable.”
“When I’ve got clothes on. Get used to it.” The car doors opened and I stepped out. His
hand went to the small of my back, and a shiver moved through me. That innocuous touch,
through layers of material, had been inciting lust in me from the very first. “You put your hand
on Corinne’s back like this again, and I’m breaking your fingers.”
“You know I don’t want anyone else,” he murmured. “I can’t. I’m consumed with wanting
you.”
Both the Bentley and the Mercedes were waiting at the curb. The sky had darkened while
I’d been inside, as if it were brooding along with the man beside me. There was a weighted
expectation in the air, an early sign of a gathering summer storm.
I stopped beneath the entrance overhang and looked at Gideon. “Make them ride
together. You and I need to talk.”
“That was the plan.”
Angus touched the brim of his hat and slid behind the wheel. The other driver walked up
to Gideon and handed him a set of keys.
“Miss Tramell,” he said, by way of greeting.
“Eva, this is Raúl.”
“We meet again,” I said. “Did you pass on my message last time?”
Gideon’s fingers flexed against my back. “He did.”
I beamed. “Thank you, Raúl.”
Raúl went around to the front passenger side of the Bentley, while Gideon escorted me to
the Mercedes and opened the door for me. I felt a little thrill as he got behind the wheel and
adjusted the seat to accommodate his long legs. He started the engine and merged into
traffic, expertly and confidently navigating the powerful car through the craziness of New York
city streets.
“Watching you drive makes me want you,” I told him, noting how his easy grip on the wheel
tightened.
“Christ.” He glanced at me. “You have a transportation fetish.”
“I have a Gideon fetish.” My voice lowered. “It’s been weeks.”
“And I hate every second of it. This is torment for me, Eva. I can’t focus. I can’t sleep. I lose
my temper at the slightest irritants. I’m in hell without you.”
I never wanted him to suffer, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make my own misery better
knowing he was missing me as much as I was missing him.
I twisted in my seat to face him. “Why are you doing this to us?”
“I had an opportunity and I took it.” His jaw firmed. “This separation is the price. It won’t last
forever. I need you to be patient.”
I shook my head. “No, Gideon. I can’t. Not anymore.”
“You’re not leaving me. I won’t let you.”
“I’ve already left. Don’t you see that? I’m living my life and you’re not in it.”
“I’m in it every way I can be right now.”
“By having Angus following me around? Come on. That’s not a relationship.” I leaned my
cheek against the seat. “Not one I want anyway.”
“Eva.” He exhaled harshly. “My silence is the lesser of two evils. I feel like whether I explain
or not, I’ll drive you away, but explaining carries the greatest risk. You think you want to know,
but if I tell you, you’ll regret it. Trust me when I say there are some aspects of me you don’t
want to see.”
“You have to give me something to work with.” I set my hand on his thigh and felt the
muscle bunch, then twitch in response to my touch. “I’ve got nothing right now. I’m empty.”
He set his hand over mine. “You trust me. Despite what you see to the contrary, you’ve
come to trust in what you know. That’s huge, Eva. For both of us. For us, period.”
“There is no us.”
“Stop saying that.”
“You wanted my blind trust and you have it, but that’s all I can give you. You’ve shared so
little of yourself and I’ve lived with it because I had you. And now I don’t—”
“You have me,” he protested.
“Not the way I need you.” I lifted one shoulder in an awkward shrug. “You’ve given me your
body and I’ve been greedy with it, because that’s the only way you’re really open to me. And
now I don’t have that, and when I look at what I do have, it’s just promises. It’s not enough for
me. In the absence of you, all I have are a pile of things you won’t tell me.”
He stared straight ahead, his profile rigid. I pulled my hand out from under his and twisted
the other way, giving him my back while I looked out the window at the teeming city.
“If I lose you, Eva,” he said hoarsely, “I have nothing. Everything I’ve done is so I don’t lose
you.”
“I need more.” I rested my forehead against the glass. “If I can’t have you on the outside, I
need to have you on the inside, but you’ve never let me in.”
We drove in silence, crawling along through the morning traffic. A fat drop of rain hit the
windshield, followed by another.
“After my dad died,” he said softly, “I had a hard time dealing with the changes. I remember
that people liked him, liked being around him. He was making everyone rich, right? And then
suddenly the world flipped on its head and everyone hated him. My mother, who’d been so
happy all the time, was crying nonstop. And she and my dad were fighting every day. That’s
what I remember most—the constant yelling and screaming.”
I looked at him, studying his stony profile, but I didn’t say anything, afraid to lose the
moment.
“She remarried right away. We moved out of the city. She got pregnant. I never knew when
I’d run across someone my dad had fucked over, and I took a lot of shit for it from other kids.
From their parents. Teachers. It was big news. To this day, people still talk about my dad and
what he did. I was so angry. At everyone. I had tantrums all the time. I broke things.”
He stopped at a light, breathing heavily. “After Christopher came along, I got worse, and
when he was five, he imitated me, pitching a fit at dinner and shoving his plate across the table
and onto the floor. My mom was pregnant with Ireland then, and she and Vidal decided it was
time to put me into therapy.”
Tears slid down my face at the picture he painted of the child he’d once been—scared
and hurting and feeling like an outsider in his mom’s new life.
“They came out to the house—the shrink and a doctoral candidate she was supervising. It
started out all right. They both were nice, attractive, patient. But soon the shrink was spending
most of the time counseling my mother, who was having a difficult pregnancy in addition to two
young boys who were out of control. I was left alone with him more and more frequently.”
Gideon pulled over and put the car into park. His hands gripped the wheel with whiteknuckled
force, his throat working. The steady patter of rain softened, leaving us alone with our
painful truths.
“You don’t have to tell me any more,” I whispered, unbuckling my seat belt and reaching
out to him. I touched his face with fingertips damp with my tears.
His nostrils flared on a sharply indrawn breath. “He made me come. Every goddamned
time, he wouldn’t stop until I came, so he could say I liked it.”
I kicked off my shoes and pulled his hand away from the wheel so I could straddle his lap
and hold him. His grip on me was excruciatingly tight, but I didn’t complain. We were on an
insanely busy street, with endless cars rumbling past on one side and a crush of pedestrians
on the other, but neither of us cared. He was shaking violently, as if he were sobbing
uncontrollably, but he made no sound and shed no tears.
The sky cried for him, the rain coming down hard and angry, steaming off the ground.
Holding his head in my hands, I pressed my wet face to his. “Hush, baby. I understand. I
know how that feels, the way they gloat afterward. And the shame and confusion and guilt you
felt. It’s not your fault. You didn’t want it. You didn’t enjoy it.”
“I let him touch me at first,” he whispered. “He said it was my age . . . hormones . . . I needed
to masturbate and I’d be calmer. Less angry all the time. He touched me, said he’d show me
how to do it right. That I was doing it wrong—”
“Gideon, no.” I pulled back to look at him, imagining in my mind how it would develop from
that point on, all the things that would have been said to make it seem like Gideon was the
instigator in his own rape. “You were a child in the hands of an adult who knew all the right
buttons to push. They want to make it our fault so they have no culpability in their crime, but
it’s not true.”
His eyes were huge and dark in his pale face. I pressed my lips gently to his, tasting my
tears. “I love you. And I believe you. And none of this was your fault.”
Gideon’s hands were in my hair, holding me in place as he ravaged my mouth with
desperate kisses. “Don’t leave me.”
“Leave you? I’m going to marry you.”
He inhaled sharply. Then he pulled me closer, his hands careless and rough as they slid
over me.
Impatient rapping against the window made me jerk in surprise. A cop in rain gear and
safety vest looked at us through the untinted front window, scowling at us from beneath the
brim of her hat. “You’ve got thirty seconds to move on or I’ll cite you both for public indecency.”
Embarrassed, my face flaming, I climbed back into my seat, sprawling in an ungraceful
tumble. Gideon waited until I had my seat belt on, then put the car in drive, tapped his brow in a
salute to the officer, and pulled back out into traffic.
He reached for my hand, lifted it to his lips, and kissed my fingertips. “I love you.”
I froze, my heart pounding.
Linking our fingers together, he set them on his thigh. The windshield wipers slid from side
to side, their rhythmic tempo mocking the racing of my pulse.
Swallowing hard, I whispered, “Say that again.”
He slowed at a light. Turning his head, he looked at me. He looked weary, as if all his usual
pulsing energy had been expended and he was running on fumes. But his eyes were warm and
bright, the curve of his mouth loving and hopeful. “I love you. Still not the right word, but I know
you want to hear it.”
“I need to hear it,” I agreed softly.
“As long as you understand the difference.” The light changed and he drove on. “People
get over love. They can live without it, they can move on. Love can be lost and found again. But
that won’t happen for me. I won’t survive you, Eva.”
My breath caught at the look on his face when he glanced at me.
“I’m obsessed with you, angel. Addicted to you. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted or
needed, everything I’ve ever dreamed of. You’re everything. I live and breathe you. For you.”
I placed my other hand over our joined ones. “There’s so much out there for you. You just
don’t know it yet.”
“I don’t need anything else. I get out of bed every morning and face the world because
you’re in it.” He turned the corner and pulled up in front of the Crossfire behind the Bentley. He
killed the engine, released his seat belt, and took a deep breath. “Because of you, the world
makes sense to me in a way it didn’t before. I have a place now, with you.”
Suddenly I understood why he’d worked so hard, why he was so insanely successful at
such a young age. He’d been driven to find his place in the world, to be more than an outsider.
His fingertips brushed across my cheek. I’d missed that touch so much, my heart bled at
feeling it again.
“When are you coming back to me?” I asked softly.
“As soon as I can.” Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to mine. “Wait.”

Categories: Reflected in You

Reflected in You - Chapter 17

For the rest of Saturday and Sunday, my dad and I bounced all over the city. I made sure he did
the food thing, taking him to Junior’s for cheesecake, Gray’s Papaya for hot dogs, and John’s
for pizza, which we took back to the apartment to share with Cary. We went up to the top of
the Empire State Building, which also satisfied the Statue of Liberty requirement as far as my
dad was concerned. We enjoyed a matinee show on Broadway. We walked to Times Square,
which was hot and crowded and smelled awful but had some interesting—and a few halfnaked—
street performers. I snapped pictures with my phone and sent them to Cary for a
laugh.
My dad was impressed with the emergency responder presence in the city and liked
seeing the police officers on horseback as much as I did. We took a ride around Central Park in
a horse-drawn carriage and braved the subway together. I took him to Rockefeller Center and
Macy’s and the Crossfire, which he admitted was an impressive building more than capable of
holding its own among other impressive buildings. But through it all, we were just hanging out.
Mostly walking and talking and simply being together.
I finally learned how he’d met my mom. Her sleek little sports car had gotten a flat tire and
she’d ended up at the auto shop where he was working. Their story reminded me of the old
Billy Joel hit “Uptown Girl,” and I told him so. My dad laughed and said it was one of his favorite
songs. He said he could still see her sliding out from behind the wheel of her expensive little toy
car and rocking his world. She was the most beautiful thing he’d seen before or since . . . until I
came along.
“Do you resent her, Daddy?”
“I used to.” He put his arm around my shoulders. “I’m never going to forgive her for not
giving you my last name when you were born. But I’m not mad about the money thing anymore.
I’d never be able to make her happy in the long run, and she knew herself enough to know
that.”
I nodded, feeling sorry for all of us.
“And really”—he sighed and rested his cheek against the top of my head for a moment
—“as much as I wish I could give you all the things her husbands can, I’m just glad you’re
getting them. I’m not too proud to appreciate that your life is better because of her choices.
And I’m not upset with my lot. I’ve got a good life that makes me happy and a daughter who
makes me so damn proud. I consider myself a rich man because there’s nothing in this world I
want that I don’t already have.”
I stopped walking and hugged him. “I love you, Daddy. I’m so happy you’re here.”
His arms came around me, and I thought I just might be all right eventually. Both my mom
and my dad were living fulfilling lives without the one they loved.
I could do it, too.
* * *
I fell into a depression after my dad left. The next few days crawled by. Every day I told myself I
wasn’t waiting on some sort of contact from Gideon, but when I crawled into bed at night, I
cried myself to sleep because another day had ended without a word from him.
The people around me worried. Steven and Mark were overly solicitous at lunch on
Wednesday. We went to the Mexican restaurant where Shawna worked, and the three of
them tried so hard to make me laugh and enjoy myself. I did, because I loved spending time
with all three of them and hated the concern I saw in their eyes, but there was a hole inside me
that nothing could fill and a niggling worry about the investigation into Nathan’s death.
My mom called me every day, asking if the police had contacted me again—they hadn’t—
and filling me in if the police had contacted her or Stanton that day.
I worried that they were circling around Stanton, but I had to believe that because my
stepfather was obviously innocent, there was nothing for them to find. Still . . . I wondered if
they would end up finding anything. It was obviously a homicide or they wouldn’t be
investigating. With Nathan being new to the city, who did he know who’d want to kill him?
In the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but think that Gideon had arranged it. That made it
harder for me to get over him, because there was a part of me—the little girl I’d once been—
who’d wanted Nathan dead for a long time. Who’d wanted him to hurt like he’d hurt me for
years. I’d lost my innocence to him, as well as my virginity. I’d lost my self-esteem and selfrespect.
And in the end, I’d lost a child in an agonizing miscarriage when I was no more than a
child myself.
I got through every day one minute at a time. I forced myself to go to Parker for Krav Maga,
to watch TV, to smile and laugh when it was appropriate—most especially around Cary—and
to get up every morning and face a new day. I tried to ignore how dead I felt inside. Nothing
was vivid to me beyond the pain that throbbed through me like a constant dull ache. I lost
weight and slept a lot without feeling rested.
On Thursday, Day Six After Gideon: Round Two, I left a message with Dr. Petersen’s
receptionist letting her know that Gideon and I wouldn’t be coming to our sessions anymore.
That evening, I had Clancy swing by Gideon’s apartment building, and I left the ring he’d given
me and the key to his apartment in a sealed envelope with the front desk. I didn’t leave a note
because I’d said everything I had to say.
On Friday, one of the other junior account managers got an assistant, and Mark asked if
I’d help the new hire get settled. His name was Will and I liked him right away. He had dark hair
that was curly but worn short. He had long sideburns and wore square-framed glasses that
were very flattering on him. He drank soda instead of coffee and was still dating his high school
sweetheart.
I spent much of the morning showing him around the offices.
“You like it here,” he said.
“I love it here.” I smiled.
Will smiled back. “I’m glad. I wasn’t sure at first. You didn’t seem all that enthusiastic, even
when you were saying good stuff.”
“My bad. I’m going through a tough breakup.” I tried to shrug it off. “It’s hard for me to get
excited about anything right now, even things I’m crazy about. This job being one of them.”
“I’m sorry about the breakup,” he said, his dark eyes warm with sympathy.
“Yeah. Me, too.”
Cary was looking and feeling better by Saturday. His ribs were still bandaged and his arm
was going to be in a cast for a while, but he was walking around on his own and didn’t need the
nurse anymore.
My mom brought a beauty team over to our apartment—six women in white lab coats
who took over my living room. Cary was in heaven. He had no qualms whatsoever about
enjoying spa day. My mom looked tired, which wasn’t like her at all. I knew she was worried
about Stanton. And she was maybe spending time thinking about my dad, too. It seemed
impossible to me that she wouldn’t, after seeing him for the first time in nearly twenty-five
years. His longing for her had been hot and alive to me; I couldn’t imagine what it must have felt
like to her.
As for me, it was just great to be around two people who loved me and knew me well
enough not to bring up Gideon or give me a hard time for being a bummer to hang around with.
My mom brought me a box of my favorite Knipschildt truffles, which I savored slowly. It was the
one indulgence she never scolded me about. Even she agreed that a woman had a right to
chocolate.
“What are you going to have done?” Cary asked me, looking at me with a bunch of black
goop smeared all over his face. He was getting his hair trimmed in its usual sexily floppy style,
and his toenails were being trimmed and filed into perfect rounded squares.
I licked the chocolate off my fingers and considered my answer. The last time we’d had a
spa date, I’d just agreed to have an affair with Gideon. He and I were going on our first date,
and I knew we’d be having sex. I’d chosen a package designed for seduction, making my skin
soft and fragrant with scents purported to have aphrodisiac properties.
Everything was different now. In a way, I had a second chance to do things over. The
investigation into Nathan’s death was a concern for us all, but the fact that he was gone from
my life forever liberated me in a way I hadn’t realized I’d needed. Somewhere in the back of my
mind, the fear must have been lurking there. It was always a possibility that I could see him
again as long as he was alive. Now I was free.
I also had a new chance to embrace my New York life in a way I hadn’t before. I was
accountable to no one. I could go anywhere with anyone. I could be anyone. Who was the Eva
Tramell who lived in Manhattan and had her dream job at an advertising agency? I didn’t know
yet. Up until now, I’d been the San Diego transplant who got swept into the orbit of an
enigmatic and incredibly powerful man. That Eva was on Day Eight After Gideon: Round Two
curled in a corner licking her wounds and would be for a long time. Maybe forever, because I
couldn’t imagine that I’d ever fall in love again like I had with Gideon. For better or worse, he
was my soul mate. The other half of me. In many ways, he was my reflection.
“Eva?” Cary prodded, studying me.
“I want everything done,” I said decisively. “I want a new haircut. Something short and flirty
and chic. I want my nails painted fire engine red—fingers and toes. I want to be a new Eva.”
Cary’s brows rose. “Nails, yes. Hair, maybe. You shouldn’t make sweeping decisions when
you’re fucked up over a guy. They come back to haunt you.”
My chin lifted. “I’m doing it, Cary Taylor. You can either help or just shut up and watch.”
“Eva!” My mother practically squealed. “You’re going to look amazing! I know just the thing
to do with your hair. You’ll love it!”
Cary’s lips twitched. “All righty, then, baby girl. Let’s see what New Eva looks like.”
* * *
New Eva turned out to be a modern, slightly edgy sexpot. My once long, straight blond hair was
now shoulder length and cut in long layers, with platinum highlights sprinkled throughout and
framing my face. I’d had my makeup done, too, to see what sort of look I should pair with my
new hairdo, and I learned that smoky gray for my eyes was the way to go, along with soft pink
lip gloss.
In the end, I hadn’t gone with red for my nails and chose chocolate instead. I really liked it.
For now, anyway. I was willing to admit I might be going through a phase.
“Okay, I take it back,” Cary said, whistling. “Clearly you wear breakups well.”
“See?” my mother crowed, grinning. “I told you! Now you look like an urban sophisticate.”
“Is that what you call it?” I studied my reflection, amazed at the transformation. I appeared
a bit older. Definitely more polished. Certainly sexier. It boosted my spirits to see someone else
looking back at me besides the hollow-eyed young woman I’d been seeing for nearly two
weeks now. Somehow, my thinner face and sad eyes paired well with the bolder style.
My mom insisted we go out for dinner since we all looked so good. She called Stanton and
told him to get ready for a night out, and I could tell from her end of the conversation that she
was delighting him with her girlish excitement. She left it to him to pick the place and make the
arrangements, then continued with my makeover by picking a little black dress out of my
closet. As I slipped it on, she held up one of my ivory cocktail dresses.
“Go for it,” I told her, finding it amusing and pretty amazing that my mother could pull off
wearing the clothes of someone nearly twenty years younger.
When we were set, she went to Cary’s room and helped him get ready.
I watched from the doorway as my mother fussed over him, talking the whole time in that
way she had that didn’t require reciprocal conversation. Cary stood there with a sweet smile on
his face, his eyes following her around the room with something like joy.
Her hands brushed over his broad shoulders, smoothing the pressed linen of his dress
shirt, and then she expertly knotted his tie and stepped back to take in her handiwork. The
sleeve on his casted arm was unbuttoned and rolled up, and his face still had yellow and purple
bruising, but nothing could detract from the overall effect of Cary Taylor dressed for a casually
elegant night out.
My mother’s smile lit up the room. “Stunning, Cary. Simply stunning.”
“Thank you.”
Stepping forward, she kissed him on the cheek. “Almost as beautiful on the outside as you
are on the inside.”
I watched him blink and look at me, his green eyes filled with confusion. I leaned into the
doorjamb and said, “Some of us can see right through you, Cary Taylor. Those gorgeous looks
don’t fool us. We know you’ve got that big beautiful heart inside you.”
“Come on!” my mom said, grabbing both of our hands and pulling us out of the room.
When we made it down to the lobby level, we found Stanton’s limousine waiting. My
stepfather climbed out of the back and wrapped his arms around my mom, pressing a gentle
kiss to her cheek because he knew she wouldn’t want to mess up her lipstick. Stanton was an
attractive man, with snow white hair and denim blue eyes. His face bore some traces of his
years, but he was still a very attractive man, one who stayed fit and active.
“Eva!” He hugged me, too, and kissed my cheek. “You look ravishing.”
I smiled, not quite sure whether being “ravishing” meant I looked like I was going to ravish
someone or was waiting to be ravished.
Stanton shook Cary’s hand and gave him a gentle slap to the shoulder. “It’s good to see
you back on your feet, young man. You gave us all a scare.”
“Thank you. For everything.”
“No thanks necessary,” Stanton said, waving it off. “Ever.”
My mom took a deep breath, then let it out. Her eyes were bright as she watched Stanton.
She caught me looking at her and smiled, and it was a peaceful smile.
We ended up at a private club with a big band and two excellent singers—one male and
one female. They switched frequently throughout the evening, providing the perfect
accompaniment to a candlelit meal served in a high-backed velvet booth right out of a classic
Manhattan society photo. I couldn’t help but be charmed.
Between dinner and dessert, Cary asked me to dance. We’d taken formal dance classes
together, at my mother’s insistence, but we had to take it easy with Cary’s injuries. We
basically just swayed in place, enjoying the contentment that came from ending a happy day
with a good meal shared with loved ones.
“Look at them,” Cary said, watching Stanton expertly lead my mom around the dance floor.
“He’s crazy about her.”
“Yes. And she’s good for him. They give each other what they need.”
He looked down at me. “You thinking about your dad?”
“A little.” I reached up and ran my fingers through his hair, thinking of longer and darker
strands that felt like thick silk. “I never really thought of myself as romantic. I mean, I like
romance and grand gestures and that tipsy feeling you get when you’re crushing hard on
someone. But the whole Prince Charming fantasy and marrying the love of your life wasn’t my
thing.”
“You and me, baby girl, we’re too jaded. We just want mind-blowing sex with someone who
knows we’re fucked up and accepts it.”
My mouth twisted wryly. “Somewhere along the way, I deluded myself into thinking Gideon
and I could have it all. That being in love was all we needed. I guess because I never really
thought I’d ever fall in love like that, and there’s the whole myth that when you do, you’re
supposed to live happily ever after.”
Cary pressed his lips to my brow. “I’m sorry, Eva. I know you’re hurting. I wish I could fix it.”
“I don’t know why it never occurred to me to just find someone I can be happy with.”
“Too bad we don’t want to bang each other. We’d be perfect.”
I laughed and leaned my cheek against his heart.
When the song ended, we pulled apart and started toward our table. I felt fingers circle my
wrist and turned my head—
I found myself looking into the eyes of Christopher Vidal Jr., Gideon’s half brother.
“I’d like to have the next dance,” he said, his mouth curved in a boyish grin. There was no
sign of the malicious man I’d witnessed on a secret video Cary had captured during a garden
party at the Vidal residence.
Cary stepped forward, looking at me for cues.
My first instinct was to refuse Christopher, and then I looked around. “Are you here
alone?”
“Does it matter?” He tugged me into his arms. “You’re the one I want to dance with. I’ve
got her,” he said to Cary, sweeping me off.
We’d first met just like this, with him asking me to dance. I’d been on my first date with
Gideon, and things had already begun falling apart at that point.
“You look fantastic, Eva. I love your hair.”
I managed a tight smile. “Thank you.”
“Relax,” he said. “You’re so stiff. I won’t bite.”
“Sorry. Just want to be sure I don’t offend whoever you’re here with.”
“Just my parents and the manager of a singer who’d like to sign with Vidal Records.”
“Ah.” My smile widened into one more genuine. That was just what I was hoping to hear.
As we danced, I kept searching the room. I saw it as a sign when the song ended and
Elizabeth Vidal stood, catching my eye. She excused herself from her table and I excused
myself from Christopher, who protested.
“I have to freshen up,” I told him.
“All right. But I insist on buying you a drink when you come back.”
I took off after his mother, debating whether I should just come out and tell Christopher I
thought he was a total asswipe of epic proportions. I didn’t know if Magdalene had told him
about the video, and if she hadn’t, I figured there was probably a good reason why.
I waited for Elizabeth just outside the bathroom. When she reappeared, she spotted me
hanging out in the hallway and smiled. Gideon’s mother was a beautiful woman, with long
straight black hair and the same amazing blue eyes as her son and Ireland. Just looking at her
made my heart hurt. I missed Gideon so much. It was an hourly battle with myself not to
contact him and take whatever I could get.
“Eva.” She greeted me with air kisses for each of my cheeks. “Christopher said it was you. I
didn’t recognize you at first. You look so different with your hair like that. I think it’s lovely.”
“Thanks. I need to talk to you. Privately.”
“Oh?” She frowned. “Is something wrong? Is it Gideon?”
“Come on.” I gestured deeper down the hallway, toward the emergency exit.
“What’s this about?”
Once we were away from the bathrooms, I told her. “Remember when Gideon was a child
and he told you he’d been abused or violated?”
Her face paled. “He told you about that?”
“No. But I’ve witnessed his nightmares. His horrible, ugly, vicious nightmares where he begs
for mercy.” My voice was low but throbbed with anger. It was all I could do not to keep my
hands to myself as she stood there looking both embarrassed and militant. “It was your job to
protect and support him!”
Her chin went up. “You don’t know—”
“You’re not to blame for what happened before you knew.” I got in her face, felt
satisfaction when she took a step back. “But anything that happened after he told you is
entirely your fault.”
“Fuck you,” she spat at me. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. How dare you
come up to me like this and say these things to me when you’re clueless!”
“Yeah, I dare. Your son is seriously damaged by what happened to him, and your refusal to
believe him made it a million times worse.”
“You think I would tolerate the abuse of my own child?” Her face was flushed with anger
and her eyes too bright. “I had Gideon examined by two separate pediatricians to look for . . .
trauma. I did everything I could be expected to do.”
“Except believe him. Which is what you should’ve done as his mother.”
“I’m Christopher’s mother, too, and he was there. He swears nothing happened. Who was I
supposed to believe when there was no proof? No one could find anything to support Gideon’s
claims.”
“He shouldn’t have had to provide proof. He was a child!” The anger I felt was vibrating
through me. My fists were clenched against the urge to hit her. Not just for what Gideon had
lost, but for what we’d lost together. “You were supposed to take his side no matter what.”
“Gideon was a troubled boy, struggling through therapy over his father’s death, and
desperate for attention. You don’t know what he was like then.”
“I know what he’s like now. He’s broken and hurting and doesn’t think he’s worth loving.
And you helped make him that way.”
“Go to hell.” She stormed off.
“I’m already there,” I shouted after her. “And so is your son.”
* * *
I spent all day Sunday being Old Eva.
Trey had the day off and took Cary out for brunch and a movie. I was pleased to see them
together, thrilled that they were both trying. Cary hadn’t invited over any of the people who
called his cell, and I wondered if he was rethinking his friendships. I suspected many were of the
fair-weather variety—great fun but no substance.
Having the entire apartment to myself, I slept too much, ate crappy food, and never
bothered to change out of my pajamas. I cried over Gideon in the privacy of my room, staring at
the collage of photos that used to be on my desk at work. I missed the weight of his ring on my
finger and the sound of his voice. I missed the feel of his hands and lips on me and the tenderly
possessive way he took care of me.
When Monday came around, I left the apartment as New Eva. With smoky eyes, pink lips,
and my new bouncy layered cut, I felt like I could pretend to be someone else for the day.
Someone who wasn’t heartbroken and lost and angry.
I saw the Bentley when I stepped outside, but Angus didn’t bother to exit the car, knowing
I wouldn’t accept a ride. It puzzled me that Gideon would have him wasting his time hanging
around, just in case I might have him drive me somewhere. It didn’t make any sense unless
Gideon was feeling guilty. I hated guilt, hated that it afflicted so many of the people in my life. I
wish they’d just drop it and move on. Like I was trying to do.
The morning at Waters Field & Leaman went by swiftly, because I had Will, the new
assistant, to help out as well as my regular work to do. I was glad that he wasn’t afraid to ask
lots of questions, because he kept me too busy to count the seconds, minutes, and hours
since the last time I’d seen Gideon.
“You look good, Eva,” Mark said when I first joined him in his office. “Are you doing all
right?”
“Not really. But I’ll get there.”
He leaned forward, setting his elbows on his desk. “Steven and I broke up once, about a
year and a half into our relationship. We’d had a rough couple weeks and decided it’d be easier
to let it go. It was fucking awful,” he said vehemently. “I hated every minute of it. Getting up
every morning was a monumental feat and he was in the same shape. So anyway . . . if you
need anything . . . ”
“Thank you. The best thing you can do for me right now is keep me busy. I just don’t want
any time to think about anything but work.”
“I can do that.”
When lunch came around, Will and I grabbed Megumi and we headed to a nearby pizza
place. Megumi filled me in on her growing relationship with her blind date, and Will told us about
his adventures at Ikea as he and his girlfriend worked on filling their loft apartment with do-ityourself
furniture. I was glad I had my spa day to talk about.
“We’re heading to the Hamptons this weekend,” Megumi said as we returned to the
Crossfire. “My guy’s grandparents have a place out there. How cool is that?”
“Very.” I passed through the turnstiles beside her. “I’m jealous you’ll be able to get away
from the heat.”
“I know, right?”
“Better than furniture assembly,” Will muttered, following a group of people onto one of
the elevators. “I can’t wait ’til we’re done.”
The doors started to close, and then they slid open again. Gideon stepped into the car
after us. The familiar, palpable energy that always coursed between us hit me hard. Awareness
rippled down my spine and flared outward, sending goose bumps racing across my skin. The
hair on my nape prickled.
Megumi glanced at me, and I shook my head. I knew better than to look directly at him. I
couldn’t be sure I wouldn’t do something rash or desperate. I craved him so deeply, and it had
been too long since he’d held me. I used to have the right to touch him, to reach for his hand, to
lean into him, to sift my fingers through his hair. It was a horrible ache inside me that I wasn’t
allowed to do those things anymore. I had to bite my lip to stifle a moan of agony at being this
close to him again.
I kept my head down, but I felt Gideon’s eyes on me. I continued talking to my co-workers,
forcing myself to focus on the discussion of furniture and the compromises necessary for
cohabiting with someone of the opposite sex.
As the car continued its ascent and frequent stops, the number of people in the car
dwindled. I was acutely attuned to where Gideon was, aware that he never took elevators this
crowded, suspecting and hoping and praying that he’d just wanted to see me, be with me,
even if it was only in this terribly impersonal way.
When we arrived on the twentieth floor, I took a deep breath and prepared to step out,
hating the inevitable separation from the one thing in the world that made me feel truly alive.
The doors opened.
“Wait.”
My eyes closed. I was stopped by the softly rasped command. I knew I should keep going
as if I hadn’t heard him. I knew it was just going to hurt so much worse if I gave him any more of
myself, even a minute more of my life. But how could I possibly resist? I’d never been able to
when it came to Gideon.
I stepped aside so that my co-workers could exit. Will frowned when I didn’t follow,
confused, but Megumi tugged him out. The doors closed.
I moved into the corner, my heart pounding. Gideon waited on the opposite side, radiating
expectation and demand. As we climbed to the top floor, my body responded to his neartangible
need. My breasts swelled and became heavy; my sex grew slick and swollen. I was
greedy for him. Needful. My breathing quickened.
He hadn’t even touched me and I was nearly panting with desire.
The elevator glided to a stop. Gideon pulled the key out of his pocket and plugged it into
the panel, suspending the car. Then he came to me.
There were only inches between us. I kept my head bowed and stared at his gleaming
oxfords. I heard his breathing, deep and quick like mine. I smelled the subtly masculine scent of
his skin, and my pulse leaped.
“Turn around, Eva.”
A shiver moved through me at the familiar and beloved authoritative tone. Closing my
eyes, I turned, then gasped as he immediately pressed against my back, flattening me to the
wall of the car. His fingers linked with mine, holding my hands up by my shoulders.
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, nuzzling into my hair. “It hurts to look at you.”
“Gideon. What are you doing?”
I felt his hunger pouring off him, enveloping me. His powerful frame was hard and hot, and
vibrating with tension. He was aroused, his thick cock a firm pressure I couldn’t stop myself
from grinding into. I wanted him. I wanted him inside me. Filling me. Completing me. I’d been so
empty without him.
He took a deep shuddering breath. His fingers flexed restlessly between mine, as if he
wanted to touch me elsewhere but restrained himself.
I felt the ring I’d given him digging into my flesh. I turned my head to look at it and tensed
when I saw it, confused and agonized.
“Why?” I whispered. “What do you want from me? An orgasm? You want to fuck me,
Gideon? Is that it? Blow your load inside me?”
His breath hissed out at having those crude words thrown back in his face. “Don’t.”
“Don’t call it what it is?” I closed my eyes. “Fine. Just do it. But don’t put that ring on and
act like this is something it’s not.”
“I never take it off. I won’t. Ever.” His right hand released mine and he reached into his
pocket. I watched as he slid the ring he’d given me back onto my finger, and then he lifted my
hand to his mouth. He kissed it, then pressed his lips—quick, hard, angry—to my temple.
“Wait,” he snapped.
Then he was gone. The car began its descent. My right hand curled into a fist and I
backed away from the wall, breathing hard.
Wait. For what?

Categories: Reflected in You

Reflected in You - Chapter 16

As soon as Detective Michna finished his sentence, my dad cut the questioning off. “We’re
done here,” he said grimly. “If you have any further questions, you can make an appointment
for my daughter to come in with counsel.”
“How about you, Mr. Cross?” Michna’s gaze moved to Gideon. “Would you mind telling us
where you were yesterday?”
Gideon moved from his position behind the couch. “Why don’t we talk while I show you
out?”
I stared at him, but he still wouldn’t look at me.
What else didn’t he want me to know? How much was he hiding from me?
Ireland’s fingers threaded with mine. Cary sat on one side of me and Ireland on the other,
while the man I loved stood several feet away and hadn’t glanced at me in almost half an hour.
I felt like a cold rock had settled in my gut.
The detectives took down my phone numbers, then left with Gideon. I watched the three
of them walk out, saw my dad eyeing Gideon with a hard speculative look.
“Maybe he was buying you an engagement ring,” Ireland whispered. “And he doesn’t want
to blow the surprise.”
I squeezed her hand for being sweet and thinking so highly of her brother. I hoped he
never let her down or disillusioned her. The way I was now disillusioned. Gideon and I were
nothing—we had nothing together—if he couldn’t be honest with me.
Why hadn’t he told me about Nathan?
Releasing Cary and Ireland, I stood and went into the kitchen. My dad followed me.
“Want to fill me in with what’s going on?” he asked.
“I have no idea. This is all news to me.”
He leaned his hip into the counter and studied me. “What’s the history with you and
Nathan Barker? You heard his name and looked like you were going to pass out.”
I started rinsing off the dishes and loading the dishwasher. “He was a bully, Dad. That’s all.
He didn’t like that his dad remarried, and he especially didn’t like that his new stepmom already
had a kid.”
“Why would Gideon have anything to do with him?”
“That’s a really good question.” As I gripped the edge of the sink, I bowed my head and
closed my eyes. That was what had driven the wedge between me and Gideon—Nathan. I
knew it.
“Eva?” My dad’s hands settled on my shoulders and kneaded into the hard, aching
muscles. “Are you okay?”
“I-I’m tired. I haven’t been sleeping well.” I shut off the water and left the rest of the dishes
where they were. I went to the cupboard where we kept our vitamins and over-the-counter
medicines and took out two nighttime painkillers. I wanted a deep, dreamless sleep. I needed it,
so I could wake up in a condition to figure out what I needed to do.
I looked at my dad. “Can you take care of Ireland until Gideon gets back?”
“Of course.” He kissed my forehead. “We’ll talk in the morning.”
Ireland found me before I could find her. “Are you okay?” she asked, stepping into the
kitchen.
“I’m going to lie down, if you don’t mind. I know that’s rude.”
“I’m going to lie down, if you don’t mind. I know that’s rude.”
“No, it’s okay.”
“Really, I’m sorry.” I pulled her close for a hug. “We’ll do this again. Maybe a girls’ day? Hit
the spa or go shopping?”
“Sure. Call me?”
“I will.” I let her go and passed through the living room to get to the hallway.
The front door opened and Gideon walked in. Our gazes met and held. I could read
nothing in his. I looked away, went to my room, and locked the door.
* * *
I was up at nine the next morning, feeling groggy and grumpy but no longer overwhelmingly
tired. I knew I needed to call Stanton and my mom, but I needed caffeine first.
I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and shuffled out to the living room. I was almost to
the kitchen—the source of the luscious smell of coffee—when the doorbell rang. My heart
skipped a beat. I couldn’t help the instinctive reaction I had to thoughts of Gideon, who was
one of the three people on the list to get past the front desk.
But when I opened the door, it was my mother. I hoped I didn’t look too disappointed, but I
don’t think she noticed anyway. She swept right past me in a seafoam green dress that looked
painted on, and she pulled it off as very few women could, somehow making the outfit sexy
and elegant and age-appropriate. Of course, she looked young enough to be my sister.
She raked a glance over my comfortable SDSU sweatpants and camisole before saying,
“Eva. My God. You have no idea—”
“Nathan’s dead.” I shut the door and glanced nervously down the hallway at the guest
bedroom, praying that my dad was still functioning on West Coast time and sleeping.
“Oh.” She turned around and faced me, and I got my first good look at her. Her mouth was
thinned with worry, her blue eyes haunted. “Have the police come by already? They only just
left us.”
“They were here last night.” I headed into the kitchen and straight to the coffeemaker.
“Why didn’t you call us? We should have been with you. You should’ve had a lawyer with
you, at the very least.”
“It was a real quick visit, Mom. Want some?” I held up the carafe.
“No, thank you. You shouldn’t drink so much of that stuff. It’s not good for you.”
I put the carafe back and opened the fridge.
“Dear God, Eva,” my mother muttered, watching me. “Do you realize how many calories
are in half-and-half?”
I set a bottle of water in front of her and moved back to lighten my coffee. “They were
here for about thirty minutes and then left. They didn’t get anything out of me beyond Nathan
being my former stepbrother and that I haven’t seen him in eight years.”
“Thank God you didn’t say more.” She twisted open her water.
I grabbed my mug. “Let’s move to my sitting room.”
“What? Why? You never sit in there.”
She was right, but using it would help prevent a surprise run-in between my parents.
“But you like it,” I pointed out. We entered through my bedroom and I shut the door behind
us, breathing a sigh of relief.
“I do like it,” my mother said, turning to take it all in.
Of course she liked it; she’d decorated it. I liked it, too, but didn’t really have a use for it. I’d
thought about turning it into an adjoining bedroom for Gideon, but everything could be
changing now. He’d pulled away from me, hidden Nathan and a dinner with Corinne from me. I
wanted an explanation, and depending on what that was, we were going to either recommit to
moving forward or take the painful steps to move away from each other.
My mom settled gracefully on the chaise, her gaze coming to rest on me. “You’ll have to
be very careful with the police, Eva. If they want to talk to you again, let Richard know so he
can have his lawyers present.”
“Why? I don’t understand why I should worry about what I say or don’t say. I haven’t done
anything wrong. I didn’t even know he was in town.” I watched her gaze skitter away from mine,
and my tone firmed. “What’s going on, Mom?”
She took a drink before speaking. “Nathan showed up in Richard’s office last week. He
wanted two and a half million dollars.”
There was a sudden roaring in my ears. “What?”
“He wanted money,” she said stiffly. “A lot of it.”
“Why the hell would he think he’d get any?”
“He has—had—photos, Eva.” Her lower lip began to quiver. “And video. Of you.”
“Oh my God.” I set my coffee aside with shaking hands and bent over, putting my head
between my knees. “Oh God, I’m going to be sick.”
And Gideon had seen Nathan—he’d confessed as much when he answered the
detectives’ questions. If he’d seen the pictures . . . been disgusted by them . . . it would explain
why he cut me off. Why he’d been so tormented when he came to my bed. He might still want
me, but he might not be able to live with the images now filling his head.
It has to be this way, he’d said.
A horrible sound escaped me. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what Nathan might have
captured. I didn’t want to.
No wonder Gideon couldn’t stand to look at me. When he’d made love to me the last time,
it had been in utter darkness, where he could hear me and smell me and feel me—but not see
me.
I stifled a scream of pain by biting my forearm.
“Baby, no!” My mother sank to her knees in front of me, urging me gently off the chair and
onto the floor where she could rock me. “Shh. It’s over. He’s dead.”
I curled into her lap, sobbing, realizing it truly was over—I’d lost Gideon. He would hate
himself for turning away from me, but I understood why he might not be able to stop himself. If
looking at me now reminded him of his own brutal past, how could he stand it? How could I?
My mother’s hand stroked over my hair. I felt her crying, too. “Shh,” she hushed me, her
voice shaking. “Shh, baby. I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you.”
Eventually there were no more tears left to cry. I was empty, but with that emptiness
came new clarity. I couldn’t change what had happened, but I could do what was necessary to
make sure that no one I loved suffered for it.
I sat up and wiped at my eyes.
“You shouldn’t do that,” my mother scolded. “Rubbing at your eyes like that will give you
wrinkles.”
For some reason, I found her concern for my future crow’s-feet hysterical. I tried to hold it
in, but a snorted laugh broke free.
“Eva Lauren!”
I thought her indignation was funny, too. I laughed some more, and once I started, I
couldn’t stop. I laughed until my sides hurt and I fell over.
“Oh, stop it!” She shoved at my shoulder. “It’s not funny.”
I laughed until I managed to squeeze out a few more tears.
“Eva, really!” But she was starting to smile.
I laughed until I wasn’t laughing so much as sobbing again, dry and silent. I heard my
mother giggling, and that somehow blended perfectly with my racking pain. I couldn’t explain it,
but as horrible and hopeless as I felt, my mother’s presence—complete with all her little quirks
and admonitions that drove me insane—was just what I needed.
With my hands on my cramping stomach, I took a deep cleansing breath. “Did he arrange
it?” I asked softly.
Her smiled faded. “Who? Richard? Arrange what? The money? Oh . . .”
I waited.
“No!” she protested. “He wouldn’t. His mind doesn’t work that way.”
“Okay. I just had to know.” I couldn’t see Stanton ordering a hit, either. But Gideon . . .
I knew from his nightmares that his desire for vengeance was colored by violence. And I’d
seen him fight Brett. The memory was seared in my mind. Gideon was capable, and with his
history—
I took a deep breath, then blew it out. “How much do the police know?”
“Everything.” Her eyes were soft and wet with guilt. “The seal on Nathan’s records was
broken when he died.”
“And how did he die?”
“They didn’t say.”
“I suppose it’s not important. We have a motive.” I ran my hand through my hair. “It
probably doesn’t matter that we didn’t personally have the opportunity. Your time is accounted
for, isn’t it? And Stanton’s?”
“Yes. And yours, too?”
“Yes.” But I didn’t know about Gideon’s. Not that it mattered. No one would expect men
like Gideon and Stanton to get their hands dirty cleaning up a mess like Nathan.
We had more than one motive—the blackmail and revenge for what he’d done to me—
and means, and means gave us the opportunity.
* * *
I brushed my hair again and splashed water on my face, all the while thinking of how I was
going to get my mom out of my apartment undetected. When I found her digging through the
closet in my bedroom—concerned as always about my style and appearance—I knew what to
do.
“Remember that skirt I picked up at Macy’s?” I asked her. “The green one?”
“Oh, yes. Very pretty.”
“I haven’t been able to wear it, because I can’t think of anything I have to go with it. Can
you help me find something?”
“Eva,” she said, exasperated. “You should’ve established a personal style by now—and it
shouldn’t be sweats!”
“Help me out, Mom. I’ll be right back.” I took my coffee mug with me to have a purpose for
leaving her. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“Where would I go?” she replied, her voice muffled because she’d stepped deeper into my
walk-in closet.
I did a quick check of the living room and kitchen. My dad was nowhere to be seen and his
bedroom door was closed, as was Cary’s. I hurried back into my room.
“How’s this?” she asked, holding up a champagne-hued silk blouse. The combination was
gorgeous and classy.
“I love it! You rock! Thank you. But I’m sure you have to go now, right? I don’t want to hold
you up.”
My mom frowned at me. “I’m not in a hurry.”
“What about Stanton? This has got to be weighing on his mind. And it’s a Saturday—he
always reserves his weekends for you. He needs to have the time with you.”
And God, did I feel awful for his stress. Stanton had spent a great deal of his time and
money on issues pertaining to me and Nathan over the four years he’d been married to my
mother. It was too much to ask of anyone, but he’d come through for us. For the rest of my life,
I would owe him for loving my mother so much.
“This is weighing on your mind, too,” she argued. “I want to be here for you, Eva. I want to
support you.”
My throat tightened, understanding that she was trying to make amends for what had
happened to me because she was unable to forgive herself. “It’s okay,” I said hoarsely. “I’ll be
okay. And honestly, I’d feel terrible keeping you away from Stanton after all he’s done for us.
You’re his reward, his little piece of heaven at the end of an endless workweek.”
Her lips curved in an enchanting smile. “What a lovely thing to say.”
Yes, I’d thought so, too, the times Gideon had said similar things to me.
It seemed impossible that only a week before, we’d been at the beach house, madly in
love and taking firm, sure steps forward in our relationship.
But now that relationship was broken, and now I knew why. I was angry and hurt that
Gideon had kept something as monumental as Nathan being in New York hidden from me. I
was furious that he hadn’t talked to me about what he was thinking and feeling. But I
understood, too. He was a man who’d avoided talking about anything personal for years and
years, and we hadn’t been together long enough for that lifetime habit to change. I couldn’t
blame him for being who he was, just as I couldn’t blame him for deciding that he couldn’t live
with what I was.
With a sigh, I went to my mom and hugged her. “Having you here . . . it’s what I needed,
Mama. Crying and laughing and just sitting with you. Nothing could be more perfect than that.
Thank you.”
“Really?” She hugged me tightly, feeling so small and delicate in my arms, even though we
were the same size and her heels made her taller. “I thought you were going crazy.”
I pulled back and smiled. “I think I did for a little bit, but you brought me back. And Stanton
is a good man. I’m grateful for all he’s done for us. Please tell him I said so.”
Linking my arm with hers, I grabbed her clutch from my bed and led her to the front door.
She hugged me again, her hands stroking up and down my back. “Call me tonight and
tomorrow. I want to make sure you’re doing okay.”
“All right.”
She studied me. “And let’s plan on a spa day next week. If the doctor doesn’t approve of
Cary going, we’ll have the technicians come here. I think we could all use a little pampering and
polish right now.”
“That’s a really nice way of saying I look like shit.” We were both rough around the edges,
although she hid it much better than I did. Nathan was still hanging over us like a dark cloud,
still capable of ruining lives and destroying our peace. But we’d pretend that we were better off
than we were. That was just the way we did things. “But you’re right—it’ll be good for us and
it’ll make Cary feel a whole lot better, even if he can only get a mani and pedi.”
“I’ll make the arrangements. I can’t wait!” My mother flashed her signature megawatt smile
—
—which is what my dad was hit with when I opened the front door. He stood on the
threshold with Cary’s keys in his hand, having been caught just about to slide one into the lock.
He was dressed in running shorts and athletic shoes, his sweat-soaked shirt tossed carelessly
over his shoulder. Still breathing a little quickly and glistening with sweat over tanned skin and
rippling muscles, Victor Reyes was one hot hunk of a man.
And he was staring at my mom in a way that was totally indecent.
Tearing my gaze away from my seriously smokin’ dad to look at my glamorous mother, I
was shocked to see her looking at my father the same way he was looking at her.
Of all the times to realize my parents were in love with each other. Well, I’d suspected my
dad was heartbroken over my mom, but I thought she’d been embarrassed about him, as if he
were a big mistake and error in judgment in her past.
“Monica.” My dad’s voice was lower and deeper than I’d ever heard it, and more obviously
flavored with an accent.
“Victor.” My mom was breathless. “What are you doing here?”
One of his brows rose. “Visiting our daughter.”
“And now Mom has to go,” I prodded, torn between the novelty of seeing my parents
together and a loyalty to Stanton, who was exactly what my mother needed. “I’ll call you later,
Mom.”
My dad didn’t move for a moment, his gaze sliding down the length of my mom from head
to toe, then gliding back up again. Then he took a deep breath and stepped aside.
My mom stepped out into the hallway and turned toward the elevator, and then at the
last minute she turned back. She placed her palm over my dad’s heart and lifted onto her
tiptoes, kissing one of his cheeks and then the other.
“Good-bye,” she breathed.
I watched her walk unsteadily to the elevator and push the button, her back to us. My dad
didn’t look away until the car doors closed behind her.
He exhaled in a rush and came into my apartment.
I shut the door. “How is it that I didn’t know you two are crazy in love with each other?”
The look in his eyes was painful to witness. The raw agony was like an open wound.
“Because it doesn’t mean anything.”
“I don’t believe that. Love means everything.”
“It doesn’t conquer all like they say.” He snorted. “Can you see your mother being a cop’s
wife?”
I winced.
“Right,” he said dryly, wiping his forehead with his shirt. “Sometimes love isn’t enough. And
if it’s not enough, what good is it?”
The bitterness I heard in his words was something I knew very well myself. I passed him
and went into the kitchen.
My dad followed me. “Are you in love with Gideon Cross?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“Is he in love with you?”
Because I just didn’t have the energy, I dumped my mug in the sink and pulled out new
ones for me and my dad. “I don’t know. I know he wants me, and sometimes he needs me. I
think he’d do anything he could for me if I asked, because I’ve gotten under his skin a bit.”
But he couldn’t tell me that he loved me. He wouldn’t tell me about his past. And he
couldn’t, apparently, live with the evidence of my past.
“You’ve got a good head on your shoulders.”
I pulled coffee beans out of the freezer to make a fresh pot. “That’s seriously debatable,
Dad.”
“You’re honest with yourself. That’s a good trait to have.” He gave me a tight smile when I
looked over my shoulder at him. “I used your tablet earlier to check my e-mail. It was on the
coffee table. I hope you don’t mind.”
I shook my head. “Help yourself.”
“I surfed the Internet while I was on there. Wanted to see what popped up about Cross.”
My heart sank a little. “You don’t like him.”
“I’m withholding judgment.” My dad’s voice faded as he moved into the living room, then
strengthened again as he returned with my tablet in hand.
As I ground the beans, he flipped open the tablet’s protective case and started tapping at
the screen.
“I had a hard time getting a bead on him last night. I just wanted a little more information. I
found some pictures of the two of you together that looked promising.” He gaze was on the
screen. “Then I found something else.”
He turned the tablet around to face me. “Can you explain this to me? Is this another sister
of his?”
Leaving the ground coffee to sit, I moved closer, my eyes on the article my dad had found
on Page Six. The picture was of Gideon and Corinne at some sort of cocktail party. He had his
arm around her waist, and their body language was familiar and intimate. He was very close to
her, his lips nearly touching her temple. She had a drink in her hand and was laughing.
I picked up the tablet and read the caption: Gideon Cross, CEO of Cross Industries, and
Corinne Giroux at the Kingsman Vodka publicity mixer.
My fingers shook as I scrolled to the top of the page and read the brief article, searching
for more information. I went numb when I saw the mixer had been Thursday, from six to nine, at
one of Gideon’s properties—one I knew all too well. He’d fucked me there, just as he’d fucked
dozens of women there.
Gideon had stood me up for our appointment with Dr. Petersen to take Corinne to his
fuck-pad hotel.
That was what he’d wanted to tell the detectives that he didn’t want me to hear: His alibi
was an evening—maybe the whole night—spent with another woman.
Setting the tablet down with more care than necessary, I released the breath I’d been
holding. “That’s not his sister.”
“I didn’t think so.”
I looked at him. “Could you do me a favor and finish making the coffee? I have a call to
make.”
“Sure. Then I’m going to grab a shower.” He reached over and set his hand on top of mine.
“Let’s go out and erase this whole morning. Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect.”
I grabbed the phone off its base and went back to my bedroom. I hit the speed dial for
Gideon’s cell and waited for him to pick up. Three rings later, he did.
“Cross,” he said, although his screen would’ve told him it was me. “I really can’t talk right
now.”
“Then just listen. I’ll time myself. One minute. One goddamn minute of your time. Can you
give me that?”
“I really—”
“Did Nathan come to you with photos of me?”
“This isn’t—”
“Did he?” I snapped.
“Yes,” he bit out.
“Did you look at them?”
There was a long pause, then, “Yes.”
I exhaled. “Okay. I think you’re a total asshole for letting me go to Dr. Petersen’s office
when you knew you weren’t coming because you were going out with another woman instead.
That’s just serious douchebag territory, Gideon. And worse, it was a Kingsman event, too,
which should’ve had some sentimental value to you, considering that’s how—”
There was the abrupt scraping noise of a chair being shoved back. I rushed on, desperate
to say what needed to be said before he hung up.
“I think you’re a coward for not coming right out and saying we’re over, especially before
you started fucking around with someone else.”
“Eva. Goddamn it.”
“But I want you to know that even though the way you’ve handled this is fucking wrong
and you’ve broken my heart into millions of tiny pieces and I’ve lost all respect for you, I don’t
blame you for how you feel after seeing those pictures of me. I get it.”
“Stop.” His voice was little more than a whisper, making me wonder if Corinne was with him
even now.
“I don’t want you to blame yourself, okay? After what you and I have been through—not
that I know what you’ve been through because you never told me—but anyway . . .” I sighed
and winced at how shaky it came out. Worse, when I opened my mouth again, my words were
watery with tears. “Don’t blame yourself. I don’t. I just want you to know that.”
“Christ,” he breathed. “Please stop, Eva.”
“I’m done. I hope you find—” My hand clenched in my lap. “Never mind. Good-bye.”
I hung up and dropped the phone on my bed. I stripped off my clothes on the way to the
shower and set the ring Gideon had given me on the counter. I turned the water on as hot as I
could stand it and sank numbly to the floor of the stall.
I had nothing left.

Categories: Reflected in You