Betrayals
Page 92

He tensed. Here he’d crossed the line. Here it was too much. Too extravagant.
He’d wanted to say, in the most unmistakable way, I hear you. That he paid attention. That changing the locks and having furniture brought down was the least she needed. The bedding and towels and dishes took it a step further, but were still basics, as a host might provide for a guest. The rest was where he really said what he wanted to say. I know you’ll want that cupola for a reading room and you’ll want pillows. I know you’ll want to sit out in the garden while you can, without fretting that you should be clearing it for winter. I know you’d like a mocha when you sit outside or up in your reading nook. I know all this. I know you.
But the coffee machine went a step too far. It was not merely an act of consideration. It was a gift that, while easily covered by a trip to the bank machine, was more than one friend ought to give another, and now, seeing it and thinking of all the rest, she seemed to realize that.
“First you save my life,” she said. “Now this. Racking up your side of the tally, huh? I owe you big-time now.”
His insides chilled. “You owe me nothing, Olivia. I was merely preparing the house for your possible arrival.”
She flushed. “Right. Sorry. There’s a bill. Of course. I knew that.”
More chilling, settling in the pit of his stomach. “No, this is a gift. I would hardly purchase items for you, without your consent, and expect you to repay me.”
She reddened more, stammering out an apology.
For God’s sake, Gabriel, stop being an ass. Get your back down and apologize.
She’d been smiling when she said she owed him. Teasing him, in a way that wasn’t entirely teasing because she wasn’t entirely sure. That was how relationships worked with him. Take nothing and owe nothing. Keep the balance firmly in his favor.
When he got snippy and said he was only preparing the house, she’d presumed he meant he expected her to pay, and had flushed in embarrassment at her mistake. Could he blame her for that? Before she’d come to work for him, he’d charged her for his time, a bill to be paid when her trust came in. Of course she would think he might have only been showing consideration in buying the items, to also be repaid.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“No, I—”
“I overreacted, and I was unclear regarding the nature of the gesture. It is a gift. I appreciate everything you’ve done.” He knew he should say more, but here he struggled. I appreciate the work you’ve done for me, at the firm? True, but that said he’d done this for her as an employee. I appreciate your friendship. Also true, but when he opened his mouth to say that, the words wouldn’t come out. They were still too damning an admission.
Damning an admission? That she was a friend? That he valued her friendship? There were greeting cards for that, for God’s sake, and he couldn’t even say the words? How the hell did he ever expect to say more?
Sweat beaded on his forehead.
I feel as if I’ve taken huge leaps, and I haven’t even caught up to where a normal person would start. Ricky would have been able to say he valued her friendship after a few coffee dates.
Say something. Say anything. Goddamn it, just—
“I appreciate everything,” he blurted. “That’s what I’m saying. I know I’m not always the easiest person. I know I’ve made things difficult for you. I know you’ve … you’ve …” Words, Gabriel. Words. “You’ve stuck by me regardless of my mistakes. And I … I appreciate that.”
She hugged him again. No asking for permission this time, but it was a quick hug, too brief for him to complain if he’d wanted, which he certainly did not. Brief and fierce, and then she stood there, looking …
Not looking the way she had five minutes ago. Not glowing and bouncing. Not at all.
“I … I have to tell you something,” she said.
His heart slammed against his ribs, and he had to struggle for breath. Which was ridiculous. Overreacting. But he couldn’t help it. He saw that look on her face, and he knew, whatever she had to say, it was bad and it involved him, and he would not be happy about it. That’s what her expression said. All the possibilities ricocheted through his head, all the things that could give her that look.
I’m sorry, Gabriel, but …
Ricky doesn’t want me hanging out with you so much.
I can’t work for you anymore.
I’m pregnant.
Admittedly, they all seemed unlikely, particularly the last, but he had considered them, at one time or another. It was like preparing to defend a client in court—what was the worst the opposing side would say and how would he counter it? These were the three possibilities he’d agonized over the most. The last was not in itself an issue, but rather he feared it would push Olivia and Ricky together in a way that closed any opportunity for him.
“Gabriel?”
“Go on,” he said.
She crossed her arms and rubbed them. “I’m sorry. It’s … it’s something I probably should have told you before. I just …” She looked up, not quite meeting his gaze. “With the Gwynn thing, I was afraid you’d react badly.”
“Which I did.”
“This isn’t the same. It’s not how you’ll react. It’s … it’s how you’ll feel.”
“It’s about me, then.”
She nodded.
“Just me?”