Deceptions
Page 67
“I have never expected—”
“Then step away from the window. Because if it doesn’t go well with Ricky tonight, she’ll find someone else. Someone you’ll like and respect a whole lot less than him. Someone who will be a hell of a lot less understanding about how much time she spends with you. Olivia appreciates men. Unlike some people, she’s not going to be content to bury herself in her work.”
“I’m well aware of that, too.”
“Then, as I said, the only reason you should be at that window is if you plan to offer up yourself as a replacement.”
“Olivia is an employee and a friend. My feelings for her don’t extend beyond that.”
“Save the bullshit for a jury, Gabriel. Your feelings extend well beyond that. You just won’t do a damn thing about them, because you’re terrified of trying.”
“Terrified?” He gave a short laugh. “While your choice of words is highly dramatic—”
“—my sentiment is dead-on?”
“Hardly. I have no interest—”
“You have every interest, and it’s driving you crazy. Would it change anything if you knew she’d reciprocate?”
“No.”
“So it’s not fear of rejection. It’s fear that it won’t work. That you’ll drive her off. That in trying for more, you’ll lose her completely.”
I always do.
He rubbed his temples again.
“Gabriel . . . ?” Concern in her voice now as she stepped forward.
He moved away from her. “As entertaining as it might be to try extending your powers to mind reading, I find the need to continually defend myself against groundless accusations irritating.”
She kept her voice low. “I only want you to be happy.”
“Then allow me to continue this vigil in peace, because what I’m doing, had you asked, is waiting until they finish their conversation so I can return to the task of making sure I don’t go to jail for murder. That would make me happy.”
“No, that would just be a relief. What makes you happy is her.”
She walked away before he could reply. He turned back to the window.
She was right, of course. Not about all of it. Any sexual attraction was an unavoidable matter of biology. He was spending his days in the company of an attractive young woman and it had . . . been a while.
Sex was a problem for someone uncomfortable with physical intimacy. When he’d been a teenager or a college student, the drive overrode the revulsion. As he got older, the edge wore off that drive, and the anonymity he needed became much harder to come by when he made a conscious effort to get as much public exposure as possible. Women might pretend to have no idea who he was, but afterward he’d often get a “Remember me?” call at the office. The last one had actually shown up there. That had been almost a year ago. Which explained the “issues” with Olivia. He could solve them by breaking his dry spell but he recoiled at the thought. And he had a feeling it wouldn’t be more than a very temporary solution. Because, if he was being honest, there was more to his attraction than biology. That didn’t matter, though. Having such a relationship with Olivia introduced far too many uncontrollable variables into the equation.
She won’t stay. She never does.
The other night, when he’d insisted Ricky join Olivia in her room upstairs, it had been, admittedly, an effort to prove their relationship didn’t bother him. Of course, as soon as Ricky had climbed the stairs, and Gabriel realized how quiet the house was, and that he’d hear them if they engaged in anything, he’d felt very differently about the situation. Sure enough, the sounds from their room did drive him out of the house. But they weren’t “that” sort of sound at all, simply them whispering and laughing, their voices too low for him even to make out what they were saying. That was enough, those whispers and laughs pounding through his skull like red-hot spikes.
That was exactly what he wanted from Olivia. That casual intimacy. That connection. They would go to dinner, and they’d relax and talk, share a bottle of wine, and it wouldn’t matter if they were surrounded by people—it felt like just the two of them, wrapped up in the meal and the conversation. Or they’d be someplace together, talk turning light, teasing, and he’d see that glow in her eyes, feel the warmth of it. Then circumstances would intervene and the mood would evaporate, and he’d have no idea how to get it back again.
Ricky did. Effortlessly. In the midst of the worst situation, Ricky could engage Olivia as easily as flicking a switch. Change her mood. Make her smile. Win a laugh. He made it seem so easy.
It was not easy. Not at all.
But she’d spent the night in the police station for Gabriel. The officers occasionally came by his holding cell to tell him his “girlfriend” was still hanging around. He told them Olivia wasn’t his girlfriend. Finally, one had said, “Well, then someone should tell her that, because she sure as hell acts like it.” To have someone do that for him . . . it was confounding and almost unfathomable. He kept trying to tell himself that she had to have a reason beyond not wanting to abandon him. But she hadn’t. She’d stuck by his side simply to say she was standing by him.
Gabriel checked his phone in case Olivia had texted, perhaps to say things were going poorly and she needed his help, his advice. He had messages. None from her. As he put his phone back, he noticed Ricky crossing the street, moving fast. Walking away from Olivia’s building. Away from Olivia.
“Then step away from the window. Because if it doesn’t go well with Ricky tonight, she’ll find someone else. Someone you’ll like and respect a whole lot less than him. Someone who will be a hell of a lot less understanding about how much time she spends with you. Olivia appreciates men. Unlike some people, she’s not going to be content to bury herself in her work.”
“I’m well aware of that, too.”
“Then, as I said, the only reason you should be at that window is if you plan to offer up yourself as a replacement.”
“Olivia is an employee and a friend. My feelings for her don’t extend beyond that.”
“Save the bullshit for a jury, Gabriel. Your feelings extend well beyond that. You just won’t do a damn thing about them, because you’re terrified of trying.”
“Terrified?” He gave a short laugh. “While your choice of words is highly dramatic—”
“—my sentiment is dead-on?”
“Hardly. I have no interest—”
“You have every interest, and it’s driving you crazy. Would it change anything if you knew she’d reciprocate?”
“No.”
“So it’s not fear of rejection. It’s fear that it won’t work. That you’ll drive her off. That in trying for more, you’ll lose her completely.”
I always do.
He rubbed his temples again.
“Gabriel . . . ?” Concern in her voice now as she stepped forward.
He moved away from her. “As entertaining as it might be to try extending your powers to mind reading, I find the need to continually defend myself against groundless accusations irritating.”
She kept her voice low. “I only want you to be happy.”
“Then allow me to continue this vigil in peace, because what I’m doing, had you asked, is waiting until they finish their conversation so I can return to the task of making sure I don’t go to jail for murder. That would make me happy.”
“No, that would just be a relief. What makes you happy is her.”
She walked away before he could reply. He turned back to the window.
She was right, of course. Not about all of it. Any sexual attraction was an unavoidable matter of biology. He was spending his days in the company of an attractive young woman and it had . . . been a while.
Sex was a problem for someone uncomfortable with physical intimacy. When he’d been a teenager or a college student, the drive overrode the revulsion. As he got older, the edge wore off that drive, and the anonymity he needed became much harder to come by when he made a conscious effort to get as much public exposure as possible. Women might pretend to have no idea who he was, but afterward he’d often get a “Remember me?” call at the office. The last one had actually shown up there. That had been almost a year ago. Which explained the “issues” with Olivia. He could solve them by breaking his dry spell but he recoiled at the thought. And he had a feeling it wouldn’t be more than a very temporary solution. Because, if he was being honest, there was more to his attraction than biology. That didn’t matter, though. Having such a relationship with Olivia introduced far too many uncontrollable variables into the equation.
She won’t stay. She never does.
The other night, when he’d insisted Ricky join Olivia in her room upstairs, it had been, admittedly, an effort to prove their relationship didn’t bother him. Of course, as soon as Ricky had climbed the stairs, and Gabriel realized how quiet the house was, and that he’d hear them if they engaged in anything, he’d felt very differently about the situation. Sure enough, the sounds from their room did drive him out of the house. But they weren’t “that” sort of sound at all, simply them whispering and laughing, their voices too low for him even to make out what they were saying. That was enough, those whispers and laughs pounding through his skull like red-hot spikes.
That was exactly what he wanted from Olivia. That casual intimacy. That connection. They would go to dinner, and they’d relax and talk, share a bottle of wine, and it wouldn’t matter if they were surrounded by people—it felt like just the two of them, wrapped up in the meal and the conversation. Or they’d be someplace together, talk turning light, teasing, and he’d see that glow in her eyes, feel the warmth of it. Then circumstances would intervene and the mood would evaporate, and he’d have no idea how to get it back again.
Ricky did. Effortlessly. In the midst of the worst situation, Ricky could engage Olivia as easily as flicking a switch. Change her mood. Make her smile. Win a laugh. He made it seem so easy.
It was not easy. Not at all.
But she’d spent the night in the police station for Gabriel. The officers occasionally came by his holding cell to tell him his “girlfriend” was still hanging around. He told them Olivia wasn’t his girlfriend. Finally, one had said, “Well, then someone should tell her that, because she sure as hell acts like it.” To have someone do that for him . . . it was confounding and almost unfathomable. He kept trying to tell himself that she had to have a reason beyond not wanting to abandon him. But she hadn’t. She’d stuck by his side simply to say she was standing by him.
Gabriel checked his phone in case Olivia had texted, perhaps to say things were going poorly and she needed his help, his advice. He had messages. None from her. As he put his phone back, he noticed Ricky crossing the street, moving fast. Walking away from Olivia’s building. Away from Olivia.
