Page 138 of The High Tide Club

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***

Thirty minutes later, she emerged from her bedroom dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, her hair freshly blown dry and styled. She’d even applied a little lipstick.

“Hi,” Gabe said, standing when she walked into the living room. He’d founda vase for the peonies and arranged a buffet on the coffee table; a bowl of raspberries, blueberries, and strawberries, a carafe of orange juice, a plate of croissants, plates, napkins, silverware, even a miniature jar of marmalade, and two steaming mugs of coffee.

Brooke nodded and sat down on the sofa. “I’m sort of amazed you didn’t head for the hills just now, after you saw me in my natural habitat.”

“It takes a lot more than that to scare me off,” Gabe said, smiling. “And I’m the one who’s amazed—that you didn’t tell me to take a hike when I showed up here uninvited.”

She fixed herself a plate of fruit and buttered a croissant. “The least I can do is listen to your apology. Anyway, I didn’t have any breakfast this morning.”

Gabe looked around the room. “I see the house is still standing. So, I guess everything was okay when you got home last night?”

“Farrah and her boyfriend were drunk, passed out on the sofa,” Brooke said, biting into the croissant.

“Christ! Where was your kid? Was he all right?”

“Henry was sound asleep in his bed,” Brooke said, taking another bite of the croissant, ignoring the shards of pastry showering onto her shirt. “Crisis averted, narrowly.”

“I hope you fired the girl,” he said.

“Nope. Farrah’s a good kid. She made a really dumb decision. I’m giving her a second chance.”

He gave her a winning smile. “So… how about me? Do I get a second chance? I don’t know what came over me last night. I could blame the martinis. I should have stopped after two.”

“You really should have,” Brooke said. “Nobody likes a mean drunk. And that’s what you were last night, Gabe. You were mean. First when you went off on that poor valet kid, threatening to get him fired, and then to me. You were mean and rude.”

“I know.” He shook his head. “So no excuses. I want you to know I went back over to the Cloister this morning. I left the kid a note of apology and a big tip.”

She sipped her coffee and waited for what would come next. Did she even want to hear it?

He ran his fingers through his hair, which was uncharacteristically messy. Come to think of it, Gabe was uncharacteristically messy this morning. Gray stubble, dark bags under his eyes, and he wore beltless khaki slacks that needed ironing, a faded gray T-shirt, and scuffed up Topsiders.

“Look,” he said, his dark eyes pleading. “I’m not a kid anymore. I haven’t courted a woman in… well, a long time, and I’m not sure I was good at it back in my twenties. I’m in foreign waters here, you know?”

He took Brooke’s hand and pressed it between his. “I wish you could forget the ugly turn the evening took last night. Because I want to. I’ll never forget how it felt, holding you in my arms, watching every other man in the room watching you and envying me, because I was the lucky guy you were with.”

He brushed a tendril of hair behind her ear. “I had so many plans for us last night. A walk on the beach, a kiss in the moonlight. And when you called to say you were leaving, I guess I lost it. I lashed out, and the moment those words were out of my mouth, I hated myself.” Gabe leaned forward and kissed her lightly. “Can you forgive me?”

“Honestly? I don’t think this is about forgiveness,” Brooke said, drawing away. “It’s about understanding. What you said last night—about me pulling a disappearing act? It showed you don’t really know me, even after all this time. I left Harris Strayhorn because, ultimately, I wasn’t ready to be married. I’ve admitted that was wrong. I don’t regret canceling the wedding, but I do regret the careless way I did that and how deeply I hurt both our families. But I’ve changed. I have a child now, and he has to be my first priority. If you can’t understand that, there’s no future for us.”

Gabe nodded solemnly. “I get it. Really, I do. That’s part of what attracts me to you. Your fierceness. And your intelligence. Can we start over? Can I have that second chance?”

“Mama? Where Fawwah go?”

They both turned. Henry stood in the doorway, naked from the waist down, clutching his stuffed Ninja Turtle. “I pooped,” he said solemnly.

“This is my life now, Gabe,” Brooke said. “Are you really sure this is what you want?”

58

Brooke walked Gabe out to his car, blinking in the white-hot sunlight. “Any news on probating Josephine’s estate?”

“I’ve filed all the paperwork, and I’m still tracking down all the assets,” he said. “It’s still amazing to me that she allowed the house to deteriorate to the extent it has, even though she had millions in cash and stocks.”

“I think she wanted time to stand still after Preiss died. She only allowed Shug to do the barest minimum maintenance.”

“Crazy old bat,” he said, shaking his head. He turned the key in the ignition. “So… are we good? Can I call you again? I need to head back to Savannah this afternoon, but maybe I could take you to dinner when I’m down here next time on estate business?”