He backtracked fast. Once outside, he pulled the door shut and retreated to the sofa bed. As he sat on the edge, he felt the cat’s stare and looked up to see it on the couch arm.
“I didn’t do anything,” he murmured.
Nor would he. That was one crime no one could ever accuse him of. He’d never even chased a reluctant conquest. It would be like finding a handful of pennies scattered on the sidewalk and deciding you really must have the one wedged in the crack. Willing partners were plentiful. Besides, seduction might suggest he wanted more than an hour of a woman’s time, which he decidedly did not.
He looked back at Olivia’s bedroom door. Seduction hadn’t been his intention anyway. This was a business relationship. She was a client.
He’d only wanted to talk to her. But the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced such a discussion wasn’t necessary—or wise. What if confessing wasn’t enough, despite what she claimed?
He should never have agreed to Morgan’s offer. While there was—he still believed—nothing wrong with what he’d done, the hassle wasn’t worth the payment. Taking care of Olivia was easy enough. She didn’t need it, if he was being honest. But working with Morgan? A pain in the ass. The man had left five messages in the last few days, panicked over some newspaper photo of him with another woman. He blamed his mother. Gabriel hadn’t bothered getting the details. Obviously Morgan had screwed around, been caught, and now he’d say anything to clear his name.
James Morgan was an idiot. If Gabriel had any doubts on the matter, working with him had erased them. Morgan lost Olivia through his own cowardice and stupidity, and he didn’t deserve to get her back. Gabriel had done the right thing. Olivia was better off without him, and given her flirting with Ricky, she knew it.
But there was the possibility she wouldn’t see it that way.
He should tell her.
Gabriel stood. Then he sat down again.
Yes, he’d tell her—later. After he’d ended his arrangement with Morgan. That’s how he’d fix this. He’d call Morgan in the morning and say he’d changed his mind and wire back his money. Olivia would accept this better if he’d already quit and refunded the retainer. She might not truly understand what it took for him to return money he’d rightfully earned, but she would still appreciate the gesture. It would cement his sincerity, and she would forgive him.
Everything would be fine. He just needed to be patient and handle this properly.
Ignoring the cat, he stripped off his shirt and crawled onto the sofa bed.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
At 5:30 A.M., I was awakened by a buzzing. I leapt up thinking there were bees in my room, which meant I’d have a visitor—and if I killed the bee, the visit would not be pleasant. It was not, however, an omen, but only my cell phone. Which, I suppose, is a “visit” of sorts.
I picked it up, muttering, “Gabriel,” then glowered at the screen, saw Will Evans’s number, and remembered that Gabriel was presumably in my living room.
I answered.
“Olivia.” My name came out on a sigh of relief. “I am terribly sorry to call you at this hour. I’ve been trying to wait for a more reasonable one, but I simply couldn’t hold out any longer.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s come to my attention that you’re working with Gabriel Walsh again.”
Damn. That was fast.
I moved to the bedroom door to tell Gabriel to keep quiet if he was awake. He wasn’t.
He was still on the sofa bed, sprawled on his stomach, head turned to the side. He’d taken off his shirt, but left his pants on, and the sheet was twisted around him as if he’d had a hard time getting comfortable. He was comfortable now, though, and deeply asleep. Also? Very nice to look at in that particular pose, muscular arms and back bare, wavy black hair tousled, long inky lashes against his cheek. Damned nice.
I closed the door. If I was eyeing Gabriel that way, I really should consider giving Ricky a call.
“I know you aren’t fond of him—” I began.
“Fond?” A short laugh. “My feelings about Gabriel Walsh do not approach the realm of fond, Olivia. The man terrifies me. There, I’ve said it.” An exhalation. “I know it sounds ridiculous. After all, whatever his reputation, he is still a man of law. An educated man. Presumably a civilized man. I’ve been trying to remember that, to give him the benefit of the doubt and merely suggest—strongly—that you not work with him. But . . .”
“What is it?”
“I told you I have reasons for distrusting him. I was given those reasons in confidence, which is why I’ve not done anything more than hint.”
“Something about his mother.” I lowered my voice. “She was a drug addict, wasn’t she?”
“Yes.” A pause. “Has he told you what happened to her?”
“We have a professional relationship. He doesn’t share anything like that.”
“Okay, then. Seanna Walsh was an addict, con artist, petty thief—pickpocket mostly. Never married. There’s no father listed on Gabriel’s birth certificate. It was just the two of them until Gabriel was fifteen and Seanna left.”
“Left?”
“Presumably. Now, if such a thing were to happen under normal circumstances to a fifteen-year-old boy, he would take refuge with a relative, would he not?”
“I guess so.”
“Instead he stayed where he was for almost a year, pretending his mother hadn’t left. I don’t know how he paid the rent, but I doubt it was through a part-time job. Otherwise, he continued living normally, even attending school. Eventually, his aunt Rose discovered Seanna was gone. As soon as Gabriel realized she knew, he ran. She seems to have pursued him for about six months, during which time police records list him as a missing teen. Then she told police he’d been found and the file was closed. She hadn’t found him, though. She stopped looking so he would stop running. A few months later, ‘Seanna Walsh’ rented an apartment again. No one ever saw her, though. Just her teenage son.”
And this story was supposed to turn me against Gabriel? How? Because he’d likely been involved in something illegal to support himself? The guy had been abandoned by his drug-addicted mother at fifteen, and he’d made it through law school. On his own.
The story explained a few things about Gabriel. Hell, it explained a lot. And it did change my opinion of him, but not in the way Will Evans seemed to expect.
“I didn’t do anything,” he murmured.
Nor would he. That was one crime no one could ever accuse him of. He’d never even chased a reluctant conquest. It would be like finding a handful of pennies scattered on the sidewalk and deciding you really must have the one wedged in the crack. Willing partners were plentiful. Besides, seduction might suggest he wanted more than an hour of a woman’s time, which he decidedly did not.
He looked back at Olivia’s bedroom door. Seduction hadn’t been his intention anyway. This was a business relationship. She was a client.
He’d only wanted to talk to her. But the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced such a discussion wasn’t necessary—or wise. What if confessing wasn’t enough, despite what she claimed?
He should never have agreed to Morgan’s offer. While there was—he still believed—nothing wrong with what he’d done, the hassle wasn’t worth the payment. Taking care of Olivia was easy enough. She didn’t need it, if he was being honest. But working with Morgan? A pain in the ass. The man had left five messages in the last few days, panicked over some newspaper photo of him with another woman. He blamed his mother. Gabriel hadn’t bothered getting the details. Obviously Morgan had screwed around, been caught, and now he’d say anything to clear his name.
James Morgan was an idiot. If Gabriel had any doubts on the matter, working with him had erased them. Morgan lost Olivia through his own cowardice and stupidity, and he didn’t deserve to get her back. Gabriel had done the right thing. Olivia was better off without him, and given her flirting with Ricky, she knew it.
But there was the possibility she wouldn’t see it that way.
He should tell her.
Gabriel stood. Then he sat down again.
Yes, he’d tell her—later. After he’d ended his arrangement with Morgan. That’s how he’d fix this. He’d call Morgan in the morning and say he’d changed his mind and wire back his money. Olivia would accept this better if he’d already quit and refunded the retainer. She might not truly understand what it took for him to return money he’d rightfully earned, but she would still appreciate the gesture. It would cement his sincerity, and she would forgive him.
Everything would be fine. He just needed to be patient and handle this properly.
Ignoring the cat, he stripped off his shirt and crawled onto the sofa bed.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
At 5:30 A.M., I was awakened by a buzzing. I leapt up thinking there were bees in my room, which meant I’d have a visitor—and if I killed the bee, the visit would not be pleasant. It was not, however, an omen, but only my cell phone. Which, I suppose, is a “visit” of sorts.
I picked it up, muttering, “Gabriel,” then glowered at the screen, saw Will Evans’s number, and remembered that Gabriel was presumably in my living room.
I answered.
“Olivia.” My name came out on a sigh of relief. “I am terribly sorry to call you at this hour. I’ve been trying to wait for a more reasonable one, but I simply couldn’t hold out any longer.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s come to my attention that you’re working with Gabriel Walsh again.”
Damn. That was fast.
I moved to the bedroom door to tell Gabriel to keep quiet if he was awake. He wasn’t.
He was still on the sofa bed, sprawled on his stomach, head turned to the side. He’d taken off his shirt, but left his pants on, and the sheet was twisted around him as if he’d had a hard time getting comfortable. He was comfortable now, though, and deeply asleep. Also? Very nice to look at in that particular pose, muscular arms and back bare, wavy black hair tousled, long inky lashes against his cheek. Damned nice.
I closed the door. If I was eyeing Gabriel that way, I really should consider giving Ricky a call.
“I know you aren’t fond of him—” I began.
“Fond?” A short laugh. “My feelings about Gabriel Walsh do not approach the realm of fond, Olivia. The man terrifies me. There, I’ve said it.” An exhalation. “I know it sounds ridiculous. After all, whatever his reputation, he is still a man of law. An educated man. Presumably a civilized man. I’ve been trying to remember that, to give him the benefit of the doubt and merely suggest—strongly—that you not work with him. But . . .”
“What is it?”
“I told you I have reasons for distrusting him. I was given those reasons in confidence, which is why I’ve not done anything more than hint.”
“Something about his mother.” I lowered my voice. “She was a drug addict, wasn’t she?”
“Yes.” A pause. “Has he told you what happened to her?”
“We have a professional relationship. He doesn’t share anything like that.”
“Okay, then. Seanna Walsh was an addict, con artist, petty thief—pickpocket mostly. Never married. There’s no father listed on Gabriel’s birth certificate. It was just the two of them until Gabriel was fifteen and Seanna left.”
“Left?”
“Presumably. Now, if such a thing were to happen under normal circumstances to a fifteen-year-old boy, he would take refuge with a relative, would he not?”
“I guess so.”
“Instead he stayed where he was for almost a year, pretending his mother hadn’t left. I don’t know how he paid the rent, but I doubt it was through a part-time job. Otherwise, he continued living normally, even attending school. Eventually, his aunt Rose discovered Seanna was gone. As soon as Gabriel realized she knew, he ran. She seems to have pursued him for about six months, during which time police records list him as a missing teen. Then she told police he’d been found and the file was closed. She hadn’t found him, though. She stopped looking so he would stop running. A few months later, ‘Seanna Walsh’ rented an apartment again. No one ever saw her, though. Just her teenage son.”
And this story was supposed to turn me against Gabriel? How? Because he’d likely been involved in something illegal to support himself? The guy had been abandoned by his drug-addicted mother at fifteen, and he’d made it through law school. On his own.
The story explained a few things about Gabriel. Hell, it explained a lot. And it did change my opinion of him, but not in the way Will Evans seemed to expect.
