“Why didn’t I? I mean, that’s professional training.” And even as he said it, he wanted to rip the words back. All he craved was to know her and he was f**king it up because he was caught off guard.
She looked from side to side, clearly embarrassed. Erin’s brows flew up as she looked his way.
“Why didn’t you what? Know I went to a performing arts school like we’ve discussed a time or two? The one whose diploma is on the wall of my office where you work a few days a week?”
“You’re up, Adrian. Why don’t you go on and choose a song?” Elise poked him in the middle of his back, extra hard.
“I just don’t get why. English, all these months and you have a seriously rocking voice.”
She licked her lips and got up. He’d hurt her, he saw that. His own lack of control had blown up in her face and she’d been embarrassed in front of others.
“I’m sorry you didn’t know I could sing. Sorry to have upset you.” She licked her lips, nervous, her voice very soft. “I believe I’m off home.” She clutched her coat and her purse and looked to everyone else. “Thanks for letting me join you all tonight.” And she headed for the door without fighting with him like she usually did.
Brody shoved him so hard he fell from the booth. “Go after her, you f**king idiot! What the hell is wrong with you?”
He didn’t know. It had been a stupid, knee-jerk thing and he’d really f**ked up. He scrambled to his feet, with the help of Ben, who pushed Adrian toward the exit.
She’d disappeared in the crowd so he headed toward the doors, hoping to cut her off. Her legs were short anyway. He’d catch up and throw himself on her mercy for acting like a dick.
He’d embarrassed her in public, something she hated and he knew it. Guessed some of the reasons why based on what she had told him. Revealed to him when he knew it hurt her to let anyone know what she’d endured and he made her feel like crap.
When she didn’t stand her ground to fight with him, he’d known he’d overreacted and he’d tell her so.
He caught sight of her as she pushed her way out the door, through the crush of people. Suddenly, Brody was at his back, as were the others, everyone yelling her name.
And shit, he saw Larry Harold, a local journalist who’d clashed with Adrian in the past. The man hated Adrian and set about digging up dirt on him every time he could. Watched him catch sight of Gillian and smile, heading her way.
“Isn’t that that reporter ass**le?” Brody asked, pushing forward to get free of the doorway.
“Yes.”
Shame flooded through her. She’d been so happy, she’d opened up with his family like he’d wanted her to and she’d enjoyed it. But his reaction had been a slap and she struggled to process the why of it.
He’d been sulky about how slow she’d been to reveal her past, but he’d never been deliberately hurtful except for in the very beginning when he didn’t know her. And tonight he’d looked at her with the same suspicious eyes he had back when they’d met.
She wanted to throw up. Wanted to cry. Needed very badly to go to Jules or Mary and they’d fix her. More than anything though, she just wanted to be anywhere but there.
“Gillian!”
She heard Adrian calling her name but all she wanted was to get away. There was a bigger intersection up ahead and she could call for a cab and make the ferry.
“Gillian? Ms. Forrester?”
That was a different voice. She finally won free of all the people and ended up passing by a man she’d never seen before but who clearly knew her.
She continued walking but he grabbed her arm, halting her progress.
“My name is Larry Harold. I’m a journalist—”
She pulled free and sent him a look that he clearly understood the violence in because he stepped back a little.
“That’s really all I need to hear. I have no comment.”
“But I think you might once you hear me out.”
She shoved her arms into her coat and slung her bag crosswise over her body. Ready to do some battle with this idjit.
“Is that so? And why would you think that?”
“How does Adrian feel knowing he’s cozied up to the daughter of a pedophile and a murderer to boot?”
Sickness hit like a physical blow. She should have told him. Should have told him and now it would hurt him.
“That’s none of your business. I’ve got nothing to say to you.” She started to walk past as the thudding of footfalls she knew belonged not just to Adrian but most likely the entire group reached where she stood.
“Get the f**k away from her, Harold.” Adrian shoved between them.
And it was like a movie instead of her life as the reporter turned to Adrian and began to speak through his smirk. Gillian knew it was coming, and if she’d had a clear shot, she was pretty sure she would have used her handbag to hit that reporter right in the face.
“I was asking your girlfriend how you felt about her father and if it was an impediment to your helping her with her music career.”
She had to clench her teeth and breathe through her nose to keep from being sick as it all happened in what felt like slow motion.
“What about her father?” Adrian asked.
“It has nothing to do with him. Nothing at all.” Gillian said it but knew it was fruitless. It was true, but it didn’t matter.
“Oh yeah? So it’s true then? You’re producing this movie she scored? The director is trying to sell it using your name as a reference. Saying Gillian told him you were backing it.”
She looked from side to side, clearly embarrassed. Erin’s brows flew up as she looked his way.
“Why didn’t you what? Know I went to a performing arts school like we’ve discussed a time or two? The one whose diploma is on the wall of my office where you work a few days a week?”
“You’re up, Adrian. Why don’t you go on and choose a song?” Elise poked him in the middle of his back, extra hard.
“I just don’t get why. English, all these months and you have a seriously rocking voice.”
She licked her lips and got up. He’d hurt her, he saw that. His own lack of control had blown up in her face and she’d been embarrassed in front of others.
“I’m sorry you didn’t know I could sing. Sorry to have upset you.” She licked her lips, nervous, her voice very soft. “I believe I’m off home.” She clutched her coat and her purse and looked to everyone else. “Thanks for letting me join you all tonight.” And she headed for the door without fighting with him like she usually did.
Brody shoved him so hard he fell from the booth. “Go after her, you f**king idiot! What the hell is wrong with you?”
He didn’t know. It had been a stupid, knee-jerk thing and he’d really f**ked up. He scrambled to his feet, with the help of Ben, who pushed Adrian toward the exit.
She’d disappeared in the crowd so he headed toward the doors, hoping to cut her off. Her legs were short anyway. He’d catch up and throw himself on her mercy for acting like a dick.
He’d embarrassed her in public, something she hated and he knew it. Guessed some of the reasons why based on what she had told him. Revealed to him when he knew it hurt her to let anyone know what she’d endured and he made her feel like crap.
When she didn’t stand her ground to fight with him, he’d known he’d overreacted and he’d tell her so.
He caught sight of her as she pushed her way out the door, through the crush of people. Suddenly, Brody was at his back, as were the others, everyone yelling her name.
And shit, he saw Larry Harold, a local journalist who’d clashed with Adrian in the past. The man hated Adrian and set about digging up dirt on him every time he could. Watched him catch sight of Gillian and smile, heading her way.
“Isn’t that that reporter ass**le?” Brody asked, pushing forward to get free of the doorway.
“Yes.”
Shame flooded through her. She’d been so happy, she’d opened up with his family like he’d wanted her to and she’d enjoyed it. But his reaction had been a slap and she struggled to process the why of it.
He’d been sulky about how slow she’d been to reveal her past, but he’d never been deliberately hurtful except for in the very beginning when he didn’t know her. And tonight he’d looked at her with the same suspicious eyes he had back when they’d met.
She wanted to throw up. Wanted to cry. Needed very badly to go to Jules or Mary and they’d fix her. More than anything though, she just wanted to be anywhere but there.
“Gillian!”
She heard Adrian calling her name but all she wanted was to get away. There was a bigger intersection up ahead and she could call for a cab and make the ferry.
“Gillian? Ms. Forrester?”
That was a different voice. She finally won free of all the people and ended up passing by a man she’d never seen before but who clearly knew her.
She continued walking but he grabbed her arm, halting her progress.
“My name is Larry Harold. I’m a journalist—”
She pulled free and sent him a look that he clearly understood the violence in because he stepped back a little.
“That’s really all I need to hear. I have no comment.”
“But I think you might once you hear me out.”
She shoved her arms into her coat and slung her bag crosswise over her body. Ready to do some battle with this idjit.
“Is that so? And why would you think that?”
“How does Adrian feel knowing he’s cozied up to the daughter of a pedophile and a murderer to boot?”
Sickness hit like a physical blow. She should have told him. Should have told him and now it would hurt him.
“That’s none of your business. I’ve got nothing to say to you.” She started to walk past as the thudding of footfalls she knew belonged not just to Adrian but most likely the entire group reached where she stood.
“Get the f**k away from her, Harold.” Adrian shoved between them.
And it was like a movie instead of her life as the reporter turned to Adrian and began to speak through his smirk. Gillian knew it was coming, and if she’d had a clear shot, she was pretty sure she would have used her handbag to hit that reporter right in the face.
“I was asking your girlfriend how you felt about her father and if it was an impediment to your helping her with her music career.”
She had to clench her teeth and breathe through her nose to keep from being sick as it all happened in what felt like slow motion.
“What about her father?” Adrian asked.
“It has nothing to do with him. Nothing at all.” Gillian said it but knew it was fruitless. It was true, but it didn’t matter.
“Oh yeah? So it’s true then? You’re producing this movie she scored? The director is trying to sell it using your name as a reference. Saying Gillian told him you were backing it.”
