"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."
