Never Enough
Page 38
“Yeah. I’m on it. See you later, Cal.”
“I forgot something in my car. I’ll be right back. I’ll walk out with you, Cal.” Adrian grabbed his keys and slid into his shoes.
“I imagine you wanted to talk to me alone.” Cal paused near his car door.
“Nice car. I nearly bought this model.” Brody joked that one of these days Adrian would have to move to a house on some land so he could have all the cars he really wanted. Looking at the sleek BMW just then, he wondered what land went for on Bainbridge.
Cal nodded his thanks, waiting for Adrian to speak.
“You must think I’m a dick.”
Cal shrugged. “Are you?”
“Sometimes. My lawyers are when they need to be.”
“Look, I get it, okay? I know the whole thing about DNA and all that wasn’t personal. But it was to her. She’s special to me. Miles is special to me. You hurt her and she never showed any of it to Miles. You need to understand what you’ve got in both of them. I see how you look at her. She’s not a passing phase. That’s not the world Gillian inhabits.”
“I know it upset her and I’ve apologized directly. I’m sure she shared that.”
“You don’t know Gillian at all if you think that. Gillian doesn’t share that sort of detail. If she felt it was personal, she’d keep it to herself. Jules probably knows. They’re tight that way. And of all the group, she’s the one to worry about because she loves Gillian and Miles fiercely.”
Adrian didn’t really know her. Which he supposed was part of his problem. “You’re right. I assumed she’d share, but upon reflection, that’s not really how she is. It’s just, you’re clearly important to her and to my son and I want to clear the air. Things started off badly. I reacted strongly based on other things having nothing to do with this and ended up causing some hurt.”
“I imagine being Adrian Brown, international superstar and business mogul, comes with a hell of a lot of people who are after things from you. I’m sure Gillian wasn’t the first woman to claim a child had resulted from some indiscriminant one-night stand.”
“No.” He shrugged. “Success comes with downsides too. Three years ago a woman came forward with a baby. Said it was mine. Wanted money, of course. But I’d been in Europe on tour for six months and she’d been here in the States. It turned out fine, but I don’t like being shaken down. But it’d be stupid to complain about all that when I have platinum records on the wall of my home studio and a hundred-and-eighty-degree of view of Puget Sound. I know I started out on the wrong foot with them, but I aim to make it right.”
“I’m going to give you a tip; Gillian is not Tina. Never in a million years would she be.”
“You’re going to think I’m a dick again, but I don’t even remember her.”
“Tina was a broken, f**ked-up woman who failed to understand the difference between offering herself up to anyone who’d take her and affection or love.” Cal paused. “Anyway, Gillian won’t say it but I will—her sister was a manipulative whore and Miles is far better off that she never sought to use him the way she could have. Gillian loved her sister and her f**ked-up mother more than they deserved.
“Tina Forrester was a calculating bitch. She died young because she led exactly the kind of life that ends up with you dead at forty. So be glad you don’t remember her.” Cal took a deep breath. “I’ve said more than I should. Gillian is a very private woman. You don’t remember Tina, sure, but Gillian is the kind of woman you’ll never forget.”
That was the understatement of a lifetime.
“I appreciate you telling me all this. I love my kid. I don’t know him as well as you do, but I will be a good father.”
Cal laughed. “Gillian wouldn’t let you anywhere near Miles if you weren’t worthy. He’s crazy about you.”
11
Gillian got up early, tiptoeing past the guest room where Adrian had shifted only a few hours before after passing a considerable amount of energetic time in her bed. Her exhaustion reminded her of those first six months with Miles.
This was a satisfied sort of tired. Adrian had brought a whole new kind of muscle ache into her life. She smiled to herself as she set up at the piano. She had a lesson to give in an hour, so this would be her own time.
She’d warned Adrian about it, putting earplugs on his bedside table. Miles wouldn’t stir, being the layabout he was. But he was used to the noise.
Bach today, she decided. She hadn’t played Bach in a while. She decided this as she opened the front drapes and the sun tumbled in.
Her piano. The sight of it brought a sort of tenderness. The wood was smooth and firm beneath her fingertips as she slid them over the curves she loved so much.
Her very finest physical possession. Gran had given it to her when she’d moved into the house.
She’d thought her days playing on a grand piano like this one were over when she settled in with Miles here. And Gran had shown up with a moving truck one day and the piano delivered the next.
Gillian sat and fell into the ritual of it. Of the weight and sway to discover the keys and feel that upswell of love and connection.
An extravagance her grandmother couldn’t afford, and yet she’d sold her home and all the land it was on. She left San Francisco and had shown up with a house she’d bought for them to live in.
Gran settled into the house and one day Gillian came home to see the piano dominating the space. A Steinway grand piano. A thing so stunningly beautiful she’d nearly wept at the sight of.
“I forgot something in my car. I’ll be right back. I’ll walk out with you, Cal.” Adrian grabbed his keys and slid into his shoes.
“I imagine you wanted to talk to me alone.” Cal paused near his car door.
“Nice car. I nearly bought this model.” Brody joked that one of these days Adrian would have to move to a house on some land so he could have all the cars he really wanted. Looking at the sleek BMW just then, he wondered what land went for on Bainbridge.
Cal nodded his thanks, waiting for Adrian to speak.
“You must think I’m a dick.”
Cal shrugged. “Are you?”
“Sometimes. My lawyers are when they need to be.”
“Look, I get it, okay? I know the whole thing about DNA and all that wasn’t personal. But it was to her. She’s special to me. Miles is special to me. You hurt her and she never showed any of it to Miles. You need to understand what you’ve got in both of them. I see how you look at her. She’s not a passing phase. That’s not the world Gillian inhabits.”
“I know it upset her and I’ve apologized directly. I’m sure she shared that.”
“You don’t know Gillian at all if you think that. Gillian doesn’t share that sort of detail. If she felt it was personal, she’d keep it to herself. Jules probably knows. They’re tight that way. And of all the group, she’s the one to worry about because she loves Gillian and Miles fiercely.”
Adrian didn’t really know her. Which he supposed was part of his problem. “You’re right. I assumed she’d share, but upon reflection, that’s not really how she is. It’s just, you’re clearly important to her and to my son and I want to clear the air. Things started off badly. I reacted strongly based on other things having nothing to do with this and ended up causing some hurt.”
“I imagine being Adrian Brown, international superstar and business mogul, comes with a hell of a lot of people who are after things from you. I’m sure Gillian wasn’t the first woman to claim a child had resulted from some indiscriminant one-night stand.”
“No.” He shrugged. “Success comes with downsides too. Three years ago a woman came forward with a baby. Said it was mine. Wanted money, of course. But I’d been in Europe on tour for six months and she’d been here in the States. It turned out fine, but I don’t like being shaken down. But it’d be stupid to complain about all that when I have platinum records on the wall of my home studio and a hundred-and-eighty-degree of view of Puget Sound. I know I started out on the wrong foot with them, but I aim to make it right.”
“I’m going to give you a tip; Gillian is not Tina. Never in a million years would she be.”
“You’re going to think I’m a dick again, but I don’t even remember her.”
“Tina was a broken, f**ked-up woman who failed to understand the difference between offering herself up to anyone who’d take her and affection or love.” Cal paused. “Anyway, Gillian won’t say it but I will—her sister was a manipulative whore and Miles is far better off that she never sought to use him the way she could have. Gillian loved her sister and her f**ked-up mother more than they deserved.
“Tina Forrester was a calculating bitch. She died young because she led exactly the kind of life that ends up with you dead at forty. So be glad you don’t remember her.” Cal took a deep breath. “I’ve said more than I should. Gillian is a very private woman. You don’t remember Tina, sure, but Gillian is the kind of woman you’ll never forget.”
That was the understatement of a lifetime.
“I appreciate you telling me all this. I love my kid. I don’t know him as well as you do, but I will be a good father.”
Cal laughed. “Gillian wouldn’t let you anywhere near Miles if you weren’t worthy. He’s crazy about you.”
11
Gillian got up early, tiptoeing past the guest room where Adrian had shifted only a few hours before after passing a considerable amount of energetic time in her bed. Her exhaustion reminded her of those first six months with Miles.
This was a satisfied sort of tired. Adrian had brought a whole new kind of muscle ache into her life. She smiled to herself as she set up at the piano. She had a lesson to give in an hour, so this would be her own time.
She’d warned Adrian about it, putting earplugs on his bedside table. Miles wouldn’t stir, being the layabout he was. But he was used to the noise.
Bach today, she decided. She hadn’t played Bach in a while. She decided this as she opened the front drapes and the sun tumbled in.
Her piano. The sight of it brought a sort of tenderness. The wood was smooth and firm beneath her fingertips as she slid them over the curves she loved so much.
Her very finest physical possession. Gran had given it to her when she’d moved into the house.
She’d thought her days playing on a grand piano like this one were over when she settled in with Miles here. And Gran had shown up with a moving truck one day and the piano delivered the next.
Gillian sat and fell into the ritual of it. Of the weight and sway to discover the keys and feel that upswell of love and connection.
An extravagance her grandmother couldn’t afford, and yet she’d sold her home and all the land it was on. She left San Francisco and had shown up with a house she’d bought for them to live in.
Gran settled into the house and one day Gillian came home to see the piano dominating the space. A Steinway grand piano. A thing so stunningly beautiful she’d nearly wept at the sight of.
