Читать книгу One Good Reason - Sarah Mayberry - Страница 9

GUILT NAGGED AT GABBY ALL through dinner with her old school-friend Shona. Jon had tried to be friendly, and she’d blown him off. He’d asked about her evening, opened the door for her. Then he’d watched until she was safely in her car. Even though those kinds of old-fashioned courtesies made her want to grind her teeth, she could appreciate the good manners behind them.

He was trying to be nice. And she’d been nothing but prickly and short.

Brushing her teeth before bed, Gabby tried to work out why he made her so bristly.

Sure, they’d gotten off on a bum note with the whole him-being-in-her-office thing, but she wasn’t the sort of person to hold a grudge. And yes, she was worried that Tyler was taking on a staff member who was going to hold back the team rather than help them grow. But none of that was enough to explain the way she turned into Mother Superior every time she spoke to him.

She thought about the moment when he’d faced her after she’d switched off the sander. She’d met his eyes and seen … nothing in their gray depths.

She paused, her mouth full of minty foam.

Maybe that was what it was. Jon was a whole lot of man—a commanding, demanding physical presence by sheer dint of the fact that he took up so much damned room—but when she looked at him she got … nothing. No sense of how he was feeling or what he was thinking. No hint of his mood or attitude. Just a contained, polite calm.

So what? Big deal if the guy doesn’t go around advertising his emotions for all and sundry. He’s a guy. That’s generally what they do. If that’s your big beef with him, you need to get over it, princess.

Gabby spit, then rinsed her mouth. Tomorrow was a new day. There was no reason why she couldn’t start fresh with him. She’d take the time to chat with him, ask how he was settling in. She’d even insist on him using her computer again if he needed to check anything on the internet. Before long they’d be laughing and joking around the way she did with the other guys.

He was Tyler’s brother, after all. It was impossible for her not to like him.

GABBY’S GOOD INTENTIONS turned to dust the next day when Jon didn’t turn up until close to eleven o’clock. She was busy with her own work but she was very aware of his absence because she’d come in with the specific intention of starting over with him.

Initially, she thought he was simply running a little late, which was fine, since he’d stayed to finish the table last night. As the morning wore on, however, and he still didn’t appear, she began to wonder if he was going to make history as the shortest-lived employee the company had ever had.

Then, just shy of eleven, Jon sauntered in. She took one look at him and knew exactly why he was late. The heavy eyes, the paleness—he’d had a big night, to use his own terminology. Probably been out to all hours, drinking and God knows what else. Then he’d slept it off and rolled into work as though he owned the place and answered to no one.

Gabby watched from her office as he exchanged a word with Dino, who was the senior on the workshop floor and didn’t suffer fools gladly. She waited for him to let Jon know in no uncertain terms that the working day had started two and a half hours ago.

Dino said something. Jon replied. Dino laughed, the sound audible even over the whine of the table saw. She watched incredulously as he clapped Jon on the shoulder as though they’d been buddies for years. Dino was still chuckling as he crossed to the drill press.

As though he sensed her watching, Jon glanced at her, a big, no-holds-barred grin still on his face.

She blinked. He looked like a different man when he was smiling. Younger. A little dangerous.

Their eyes met and his smile sobered as he gave her a small acknowledging nod. Her own face felt frozen, but she forced herself to nod in reply. Then she swung in her chair and made a big deal out of being busy with her computer.

She told herself it was none of her business as she punched figures into the accounting software. If Dino was prepared to let the boss’s unreliable brother get away with murder, it was no skin off her nose.

At lunchtime she walked around the corner and grabbed a sandwich. As she returned, she could see Jon through the window of the showroom. He was talking to a woman. Gabby frowned, taking in his body language: the way he was slouching oh, so casually against the counter; the almost-there smile on his face as he listened to something the woman was saying; the way his gaze traveled over her body in a slow, appreciative scan.

If he were in a bar, Gabby wouldn’t hesitate for a second in assuming that he was hitting on the woman. But this was Tyler’s showroom, and the woman was a customer. Jon was probably simply being friendly.

Gabby pushed the door open, stepping into the air-conditioned cool of the showroom.

“The thing about good design is that it’s timeless. Ageless,” Jon said. “It only gets better.”

The woman was in her early forties, blonde and wearing a tight black dress. She flipped her hair over her shoulder as Jon gave her a loaded smile.

Gabby might not have had a date in a while, but she knew when a man was on the make—and he was definitely eyeing the blonde with carnal intent.

In his brother’s showroom. At—she checked her watch—one thirty-five on a Tuesday afternoon.

Nice. Really classy.

Putting on her best professional smile, Gabby joined their cosy tête-á-tête.

“Hi. Hope you don’t mind me interrupting. I’m Gabby.” She offered the other woman her hand.

The blonde looked a little startled—no doubt she’d been so busy eating Jon up with her eyes she hadn’t noticed Gabby approach.

“Hi. Fiona. Pleased to meet you.”

Gabby turned to him, her smile still firmly in place. “Thanks, Jon. I’ll take over from here.”

For a moment she saw a flash of something in his eyes—annoyance? Defiance?—then he straightened and gave Fiona a rueful shrug.

“Back to the grindstone.”

Fiona laughed and flipped her hair again. “I’ll keep in mind what you said.”

“You do that.”

Without looking at Gabby, he left the showroom.

“So, how can I help you …?” Gabby asked the other woman brightly.

Ten minutes later, Fiona was on her way with a handful of brochures and some preliminary pricing for the dining-room suite she was looking for. Gabby took a moment to gather her thoughts before heading to her office. Everything in her wanted to hunt Jon down and read him the riot act for behaving so unprofessionally. But he was Tyler’s brother, and it was Tyler’s business. If anyone was going to deal with Jon, it should be Tyler.

She entered the workshop, veering to the kitchen before hitting her office. She was rinsing a mug when she heard the heavy tread of someone entering. Her spine stiffened. Somehow she knew that it was Jon, but she refused to look to confirm it.

“She was into it, if that’s what you’re worried about,” a deep voice said.

She turned to face him. “Excuse me?”

“Fiona. The blonde.”

Gabby blinked, then shook her head. “Let me get this straight. It’s your second day on the job, you walk in nearly three hours late, then you try to pick up one of our customers. And none of it is your fault?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“So you’re not making excuses for treating our showroom like a pick-up bar?”

“A pick-up bar? Are you serious? We were having a conversation.”

“When it comes to your brother’s company I’m usually pretty serious. I’m a little crazy like that, caring about him staying in business and whatnot.”

He made a rude noise. “Lady, you need to lighten up.”

“This isn’t about me.”

“Listen, I know you’re all bent out of shape because I used your computer for a few seconds yesterday—”

“This isn’t about you using my stupid computer. What do you think I am, a child or something?”

His gaze dropped to her chest for a telling beat. Never had she regretted being an A-cup so much in her life.

“I don’t know. I can’t think of another reason why you’d nearly blow a gasket because I was having a friendly chat with another consenting adult on my lunch break.”

“She was a customer. She was looking for furniture, not a quickie in the parking lot.”

“Personally I prefer a nice big bed and plenty of time, but don’t let that get in the way of a good story.”

To her everlasting chagrin, Gabby could feel heat stealing into her cheeks. “Stop trying to make this about me. You’re the one who’s taking advantage of Tyler, taking his job offer and then arriving late on your second day. How do you think it looks to the other guys, the boss’s brother strolling in whenever he feels like it and—”

“I called Dino, told him I’d be in late and that I’d make up the time tonight.”

Gabby was thrown for a second. “Well, good. At least someone knew where you were.”

“What’s wrong? Worried about me?”

“Hardly.” She was fiercely hot now, her armpits prickling with self-conscious heat. It didn’t help that he looked as cool as could be, as though he could barely bother to raise a sweat over her.

“You know what? Forget I said anything. Why I even felt the urge to explain is beyond me.” He turned to go.

“Uh-uh. You don’t get off that easy.”

She raced around the table, barely making it to the doorway in time to block his exit. He stopped short of plowing into her and she caught a whiff of male skin and spicy deodorant before he took a step backward.

“I want a promise from you that you won’t talk to any of the customers again.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Sweetheart, you have got to be the most uptight chick I have ever met in my life.”

“My name is Gabby, thanks. And I want your word that you’ll stay out of the showroom. If Dino’s prepared to put up with you stuffing him around in the workshop that’s his business. But Tyler and I handle sales and I won’t have you screwing with our clients. Literally or figuratively.”

Something fiery and dangerous flashed in his dark gray eyes. He grabbed her by the upper arms, forcibly picking her up and moving her to one side as though she were a piece of furniture. Then he was gone, and she was left gaping at his audacity.

“How dare you!” she said to the empty kitchen.

Good lord, she sounded like a Victorian maiden. An hysterical, outraged Victorian maiden on the verge of the vapors. Any second now she’d be reaching for her smelling salts or calling for her maid to burn some feathers.

How on earth had he managed to turn the tables on her so effectively? He’d been utterly in the wrong, yet somehow she was left feeling like some uptight morals campaigner. He was the one who’d taken advantage of Tyler’s generosity, not her. Jon was the one who should be feeling stupid and wrong and out of sorts.

You’re an asshole, Jon Adamson.

Damn straight he was. That was why she’d been so prickly and bristly around him right from the start—her instincts had simply been ahead of the game, recognizing his essential asshole-ness way before he’d shown his true colors.

Which was great, except for one thing—she worked with him now. For the foreseeable future, she had to face him every day from nine to five.

Relax. He’s a screwup. He’ll mess up again. And next time Tyler will notice and then it will only be a matter of time.

She took a deep breath, then let it out.

Tyler was a good guy and a generous employer, but he was also an astute and passionate businessman. Once he realized his brother was deadwood, Jon would be gone.

It couldn’t happen soon enough.

JON DIDN’T CONSIDER HIMSELF A tough guy to get along with. Sure, he wasn’t a cuddly, let-me-be-your-instant-best-friend kind of guy, but he usually rubbed along okay with most people. He had a handful of good mates. He managed to end most of his romantic liaisons without tears and recriminations.

So why had Gabby taken such an instant and steadfast dislike to him?

He punched the table saw on and lined up his first cut, feeding the timber slowly into the blade.

He’d apologized for using her computer. He’d bitten his tongue last night when she’d been all bent out of shape about him locking up. He’d even sought her out to explain that she hadn’t seen what she’d thought she’d seen when she’d come into the showroom. And she’d still looked at him as though she’d scraped him off her shoe.

It had to be the lesbian thing. Maybe she saw him as competition. Maybe she’d had a bad experience with a man that had tainted her view of his gender for all time. Whatever, he was done with worrying about her prickly sensibilities. From now on, it was every man—or woman—for himself.

You’re the one who’s taking advantage of Tyler, taking his job offer and then arriving late on your second day.

He frowned, shaking his head in an attempt to dislodge her words. As he’d explained to her, he’d called Dino, let him know he was running late. He’d been up half the night, unable to sleep, pacing the floor of his apartment and staring at late-night TV like a zombie. And when he’d finally fallen asleep in the early hours he’d been so out of it he’d slept through the alarm. But it wasn’t as though he hadn’t put in the hours yesterday—it had been nearly midnight when he left the workshop, bone weary and covered in sawdust—and it wasn’t as though he wouldn’t make up for the time today. As for taking advantage of Tyler … Jon’s conscience was clear on that one, too. He and Tyler had an understanding, and it was none of Miss Prissy’s business.

Jon lined up his next cut. Sawdust and wood chips flew as he ripped the length of the wood.

How do you think it looks to the other guys, the boss’s brother strolling in whenever he feels like it?

He told himself to concentrate on the matter at hand, but Gabby’s words continued to eat at him. He could tell himself she knew nothing and that her words held no weight. But the truth was that if he had an employee who’d turned up late on the second day of work, he wouldn’t be too impressed, either. Not that he was Gabby’s employee … but he could see her point. Considered objectively, it had probably looked bad. And it definitely didn’t send a great message to the other staff members.

He swore under his breath, then hit the stop button. Pulling the ear protectors from his head, he faced the inevitable: Gabby was right. But only about the late thing. He’d go to his grave defending his conversation with Fiona-the-blonde in the showroom. They’d been flirting, for Pete’s sake—hardly a crime against nature. It wasn’t as though he’d been about to club her over the head and drag her to his cave. They’d had a few laughs, eyed each other approvingly. Maybe, if things had warmed up, he’d have gotten her number. That’s it.

Miss Prissy needed to get a life.

He glanced toward her office. She was visible through the open doorway, her head bent over her work. A small frown wrinkled her forehead. She was so serious. Did she never let her hair down? He tried to imagine it and couldn’t. She was too stiff and distant and uptight.

She glanced up and he looked away before she caught him staring. God knew what she’d make of that. Sexual harassment, probably.

He smiled faintly. The idea of him trying to get it on with her was too absurd. She would probably kick him in the nuts then take photos of him writhing on the floor to show the rest of the sisterhood.

Dino walked past and gave him a questioning look. “You all right there, mate?”

Jon realized he was standing in the middle of the workshop with a piece of wood in his hands, staring at nothing. And that he’d wasted the past half hour thinking about Gabby Wade.

“All good,” he assured the other man.

Then he collected the other pieces of timber and took them to where Carl was waiting.

GABBY LEFT WORK BEFORE SIX o’clock that night for the first time in months. Tyler and Ally had invited her for dinner to celebrate her birthday. Technically, it wasn’t until the weekend but Ally and Tyler were hosting the firm’s delayed Christmas party on Saturday night—they’d been so busy in the lead-up to Christmas that everyone had voted to postpone the party until a time when things were less hectic. Gabby would have been happy to combine the two events—or, better yet, forget her birthday altogether—but Ally had insisted they have a separate dinner to mark Gabby’s special day.

Normally Tyler forgot her birthday, then made up for it by buying her something expensive a month or so later. Times had changed. He had Ally to remind him now.

Gabby parked close to their double-fronted Victorian home and fumbled in her bag for her lipstick. She found a roll of mints and two tampons, but no lipstick. Damn. Maybe she should have made the time to swing home and freshen up.

Who are you trying to impress, anyway? It’s just Ally and Tyler.

Her hand stilled in her bag. It was a good question. Who was she trying to impress? Not Tyler anymore. That horse had well and truly bolted. As for Ally, right from the start she’d embraced Gabby has a friend.

Yet there was no denying the fact that Gabby found herself playing the comparison game whenever she spent any significant time with Tyler’s wife. It was hard not to, given the superficial similarities between the two of them. They were both on the petite side, and they both had short, dark hair. Sure, Ally was much curvier than Gabby, and her hair was curly instead of dead straight, but it wasn’t as though Tyler had gone off and married a six-foot-six redhead. Then there was the fact that both she and Ally were not exactly shy, retiring types …

Enough in common, really, to seed a host of unanswerable questions in Gabby’s mind. But as she reminded herself regularly, Tyler had made his choice, and she was happy for him. Anything else was a waste of energy.

Which meant she didn’t need to worry about lipstick. She was having dinner with two of her good friends. End of story.

Before she could examine her navel any more, she got out of the car and made her way up the well-lit path to Tyler and Ally’s porch. The door opened before she could knock and Ally greeted her with a hug. Dressed in an aqua dress with white embroidery around the hemline, she looked fresh and bright.

“I was beginning to think you were never going to show up,” she said.

“Sorry. I got held up at work.”

“As usual. Your boss is a slave driver.”

“Don’t look at me—it’s the office manager who wields the whip,” Tyler said as he joined them in the wide entrance hall. He kissed Gabby’s cheek. “Happy early birthday.”

Gabby laughed. “I can honestly say that’s the first time I’ve heard those words pass your lips.”

“What can I say? Forgetting dates is a guy thing.”

Ally poked him in the ribs. “You’re on increasingly thin ice with that one, mister. All the latest research is showing that there’s precious little difference between the male and female brain.”

Tyler captured her hand in one of his to save himself from further prodding.

“I kind of like the differences. Don’t know about you,” he said, smiling into his wife’s face.

Gabby looked away. She could tell herself she was happy for Tyler until the cows came home, but there was no getting around the fact that seeing the way he looked at Ally made her chest ache.

Not once in three years had he ever looked at her in the same way. Not once.

Which is why he married her and not you, dufus.

“Something smells great,” she said, sniffing appreciatively.

Ally hooked her arm through Gabby’s. “I made us Moroccan meatballs with preserved lemons, pistachio couscous and orange-and-date salad.”

“We’re going through a Moroccan stage,” he explained as they walked toward the open living space at the rear of the house.

“Well, you know me, anything that I didn’t cook myself is manna from heaven,” Gabby said.

“Good. Tyler was worried it might be too exotic for you.”

Ally released Gabby’s arm to pour wine into three of the four glasses on the counter.

“Here’s to you,” Ally said as she passed Gabby a glass.

“Yeah, happy birthday, Gab,” Tyler said.

Gabby clinked glasses, distracted by the single flute still on the counter. It was possible, of course, that Tyler or Ally had simply put out one too many. She hoped like hell that was what had happened, because the alternative was that someone else was joining them for dinner. And since it was a small and cosy family affair, she had a horrible feeling she might know who that fourth person might be.

Right on cue, the doorbell rang. Gabby’s stomach dipped with foreboding.

“I’ll get it,” Tyler said.

“We thought it might be nice to have Jon over, too,” Ally explained as he disappeared to answer the door. “We’ve barely seen him since he’s been back, because he was in Woodend so long. Now he’s here, I’ve been bugging him to come for dinner every night, and finally he said yes.”

Ally looked pleased. Gabby could only imagine how she looked. Constipated? Bilious? The last thing she wanted was to sit around a table making polite conversation with Tyler’s knuckle-dragging brother.

“Wasn’t sure what you guys were having, so I brought red and white,” Jon said as he and Tyler appeared.

Jon’s step faltered when he saw her standing there.

“Evening,” she said, raising her glass.

For some reason his obvious discomfort made her feel better, made her feel less childish for being unhappy about him being here.

“Hi.” Jon was frowning slightly as he put down the bottles of wine he’d brought.

“Finally I get you in my clutches. I’m determined to put some meat back on those bones, you know,” Ally said, planting a kiss on his cheek and giving him a warm hug.

Jon hugged her as warmly, a faint smile on his face. Ally seemed very small in comparison to his big body. Gabby experienced an odd clench of … something as she watched them embrace.

Looking away, she swallowed a big mouthful of wine. Everybody loved Ally, it seemed. Even the arrogant, standoffish brother.

“Have some wine. We’re toasting Gabby,” Tyler said.

Jon’s expression was unreadable as he accepted a drink.

“Gab, you know I’d be a mess without you. You’re my right-hand woman. Hope this makes up for all the other birthdays I’ve forgotten,” Tyler said.

Out of the corner of her eye, Gabby saw Jon tense as he registered the occasion. As she’d suspected, Ally hadn’t told him tonight was her birthday dinner. In fact, given that small giveaway hesitation when he’d first entered, Gabby was pretty damn sure he hadn’t known she was going to be here. No doubt he would have come up with an ironclad excuse otherwise. Lord knew, she would have if she’d known.

“Happy birthday, Gabby,” Ally echoed.

Some instinct made Gabby glance at Jon as she took a drink. She saw him lift his glass to his mouth, tilt it and wet his lips. But he didn’t open his mouth. It was over in a split second, so fast she almost thought she’d imagined it, but she hadn’t.

Jon had faked drinking a toast in her honor.

Wow. He must really dislike her.

She was surprised how much the realization stung. Then she gave herself a mental shake. She didn’t care what he thought of her. The idea was laughable. Ludicrous. She’d met him only two days ago, and what she knew of him proclaimed him to be a screwup of the highest order—she should consider it a badge of honor that he didn’t like her, not a slap in the face.

Tyler crossed to the sideboard to collect a small, neatly wrapped box. “From us.”

Gabby took the box, very aware of the tall figure standing at the edge of her peripheral vision.

“This is awfully small for the company car I’ve been campaigning for.”

“Next year,” Tyler said.

Gabby tugged the pretty silver ribbon free and lifted the lid. Inside, a pair of stud earrings rested on a velvet cushion. Set with golden-brown gems, they sparkled in the overhead light.

“They’re beautiful,” Gabby breathed.

“They’re golden beryls. I saw them and thought they were a match for your eyes,” Ally said. “Tyler couldn’t remember if your ears are pierced, but I was pretty sure you wore earrings to his birthday in August.”

“My ears are pierced.” Gabby touched one of the glittering stones, trying not to be hurt that Tyler couldn’t remember. He’d been in her apartment, in her bedroom, hundreds of times. Had he really forgotten her messy jewelry box? And what about the time she’d freaked out over sucking up one of her favorite earrings in the vacuum cleaner? Had everything pre-Ally been consigned to the archives of his mind?

“If you don’t like them, we won’t be offended if you want to swap them for something else,” Ally said.

Gabby realized she’d been silent for too long and she offered her hosts—her friends—a big smile.

“They’re absolutely perfect. Gorgeous. In fact …”

She eased the earrings from the box. A few seconds later she let her hands fall to her sides and offered herself up to Ally and Tyler’s scrutiny. “How do they look?”

“Just as I imagined,” Ally said.

Gabby stepped forward to kiss her cheek in thanks. “Thanks for thinking of me.”

Ally drew her into a hug, squeezing her tight. “It was my pleasure.”

Gabby squeezed her back.

When Tyler had first introduced her to Ally, Gabby had been determined to like the woman who had made him so happy, even if it killed her. She’d been prepared to overlook anything, to be generous and accepting of any and all faults or shortcomings because Ally was Tyler’s choice, the woman he loved.

The woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

Then she’d met Ally and realized that it would be no hardship to like her. She was warm and generous, smart and funny. Easily one of the most thoughtful people Gabby knew—witness the beautiful earrings, chosen with care and consideration. Not too dangly or elaborate—because Gabby was not a fussy woman—and, apparently, a match for her eyes. Although Gabby was pretty sure it was a stretch to compare her ordinary brown eyes to the warm golden gems. It hadn’t taken her long to understand why Tyler had fallen in love with Ally. She was very easy to love.

Tyler patted her on the shoulder fondly as she and Ally broke their embrace. Gabby gave him a wry look, then her gaze slid to where Jon was standing at a distance, watching them. Their eyes met for a moment before he glanced down at his still full wineglass.

“Okay, people. Make a beeline for the table, it’s time for the feasting to begin,” Ally said, waving them toward the dining table that occupied one corner of the room.

Gabby dutifully followed orders, but Jon lingered at the counter, arms crossed over his chest.

“That means you as well, my friend. The last thing I need is you hovering while I serve our meal,” Ally said.

“Funny. I thought only men suffered from short person syndrome,” Jon said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ally asked.

Jon looked at her, a smile quirking his mouth. “What do you think it means?”

“I think you’re saying I’m bossy.”

“Hey. If the shoe fits …” Jon said with a don’t-blame-me shrug.

Ally laughed and gave him a shove. “Move, you big lug.”

Gabby watched, fascinated, as Jon resisted Ally long enough to make her really work before finally deigning to shift from his position. There was a lazy, amused light in his eyes, not quite the same as the expression he’d had when he was chatting up the blonde in their showroom this afternoon, but certainly just as playful.

“Next to Gabby, please. Since I’ve already been labelled a dictator, I might as well have it the way I want it,” Ally instructed.

Gabby gave a silent sigh. Great. Now she was going to have to rub shoulders with Captain Studly through three courses and coffee. Not exactly the birthday celebration she’d been hoping for. But there was precious little she could do about it.

Buckle up, it’s going to be a bumpy night.