"Dealing with something." Gabe waves his hand at the club behind him, but his eyes are on me. "When's the last time you slept?"
"I sleep."
We're interrupted by a waitress wearing the same black dress that Grace was the night I met her. She smiles demurely as she slides two glasses of Macallan in front of us.
I stare down into the pool of amber liquid. The same drink that Grace split on me all those months ago. For some reason, I want to go back to that moment, stand up, and walk away. If I never offered her the deal, maybe my chest wouldn't ache the way it does right now.
"Fuck," I groan as the montage of memories flashes through my mind. I linger on the time I brought her here. Having a drink in this same area before taking her up to my room. She was so perfect, tied to the bed, taking everything I had to give her.
"Why are we meeting here?" I ask through clenched teeth.
"Because both my brothers have a thing for my waitresses," Wren answers casually as he slides into the booth on Gabe's other side.
I look at my older brother, eyebrows lifting as I wait for an explanation. It doesn't come verbally, but I follow his line of sight, landing on a curvy purple-haired woman in a short skirt and corset bodice.
Kacey.
I drop my head in my hands, not wanting Grace's best friend to see me. How could I forget she worked here?
"Not her," I grumble.
"I'm not even interested in her," Gabe says, as if it's a wild notion.
"Mmhmm." Wren leans back, a grin on his face as he looks between my brother and Kacey. "So she's not why you're here every night, then?"
Gabe shoots him a look that readsshut the fuck up. "That's not why I wanted us to meet here."
"Then get on with it," I say. "I want to get out of here."
"Because you're so busy?" Wren questions sarcastically.
"Enough." Gabe slices his hand through the air, attempting to make our brother stop with his little comments. Not that it will work. Wren's never shut up before.
"Mr. Caine." A blonde woman, the same one that fired Grace, slides up to our table. "Sorry to interrupt, but we have a problem in room three."
"Get Nolan." My brother looks at the woman like she's nothing more than an annoyance, one he has no tolerance for.
She wrings her fingers, and it's amusing to see her look so small under my brother’s gaze when she had no nervousness while firing Grace. Part of me hates her for it. If she wouldn't have fired Grace, maybe I would have never made her the offer and then I wouldn't be sitting here, a shell of myself.
Maybe then I could go back to that version of me that didn’t hate himself. The one who was still so naive, thinking he had it all figured out.
But I can’t rewrite the past, and I don’t want to unlearn what I know now.
"It's his night off," she tells my younger brother.
With a grunt, Wren stands up from the table. "Duty calls," he says to us, mock saluting and then following the woman to whatever room had the issue.
Gabe and I sit in silence for a moment before he opens his mouth. "Is this where you met her?" he asks, as if the carefully crafted facade I used to wear like armor has now melted away and everyone can just see my thoughts.
This conversation feels like treading through deep water. I could be seconds away from getting swallowed and pulled under. I’m getting better at talking to Gabe, even if something inside me still goes on high alert any time I’m remotely vulnerable with my siblings. But I’m learning that Gabe has changed in the years he’s been gone, and while I do know he’s up to something, even if I don’t have all the details, I also strangely trust that we’re on the same side.
"Yes," I exhale, telling him the truth.
Gabe nods, his fingers wrapped around the glass of amber liquid.
"You think I'm a terrible person?" I don't know why I ask the question because I'm not sure I want to know the answer. My brother has always had stronger morals than me; he probably thinks paying someone to marry me just so I can inherit the company is a low thing to do.
These days, I might agree with him.
