“Your crew was fine.”
“I’m sure they were. What I want to know is what happened in Park Slope that made you look like that.”
Knox studied him with the expression that meant he had already drawn conclusions and was simply waiting for Gabriel to confirm them.
“Does this have anything to do with a certain caterer who makes you forget how to breathe?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“That’s a yes.” Knox leaned back. “You know what the problem with you is? You think if you don’t acknowledge something, it doesn’t exist. Meanwhile your body’s staging a full-scale rebellion every time she walks into a room.”
“Knox.”
“I’m saying. The meeting last week was painful to watch. You looked at her like she was the only person in the building.”
Gabriel’s hands tightened on the wheel. “What did Ronan say?”
“That you need to keep your head in the game.” Knox paused. “His words, not mine.”
“My headisin the game.”
“Is it? Because from where I’m sitting, you’ve been distracted all week. Ever since our best friend entered into marital servitude and you saw the caterer again.”
Gabriel didn’t answer. Traffic crept forward.
“So what’s the story?” Knox asked. “With you and the caterer. And don’t tell me there isn’t one, because I sat through that meeting.”
“We dated in high school. I told you that.”
“You told me the bare minimum, which means there’s more.”
Gabriel turned onto Seventh Avenue. “We were together for two years. Broke up at graduation. Hadn’t seen each other since.”
“Until the wedding?”
“Yes.”
“And now she’s catering all our events, and you’re what? Fine with it?”
“I don’t have a choice.”
There was a silence.
“I made my choice when I signed The Oath.” The words came out harder than he intended. “It was my idea. I started this whole thing. Now I have to see it through. I’ve got four years left.”
Knox watched him. “Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?”
Gabriel didn’t answer.
They parked half a block down from the bakery and got out. Up ahead, warm lighting spilled through the window of Flour & Honey, and people moved inside.
Gabriel stopped mid-stride.
Across the street, a woman in a black jacket and dark jeans was walking the same direction. Tessa. Her hair loose around her shoulders. She slowed beside a man slumped against the brick of the bodega—no shoes, torn clothing.
Knox nearly collided with him from behind. “What?”
“That’s Tessa.”
