The Fate Date (Glengarry Curse #1)

16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Sabrina

W hat was the protocol for barging into your business coach’s apartment? Sabrina was an obscene fifteen minutes early which might explain his reluctance to answer the door. However, with all the stuff she’d lugged from Hintonburg, her purse now weighed half as much as she did. Her feet ached in shoes she no longer deemed cute and would be setting on fire during her next full moon ritual. It was reasonable, she thought, to at least try the doorknob.

It was open.

“Honey, I’m home,” she called out, then giggled like a schoolgirl with a crush. She stepped inside and let out a sigh as she hoisted her purse onto the dining table which he had set up like last time. That meant he was expecting her, right?

It was hard to tell anyone actually lived here, his apartment was so impersonal. It looked like an IKEA show room—black leather couch, glass coffee table, dark accent wall, a faint scent of cleaning products. There wasn’t a picture in the entire place, that she’d seen anyway.

She thought she heard his gravelly voice call out from down the grey—sorry, “taupe”—hallway. “Gavin?” She ambled down the barren hall, musing that she could give him one of her black-and-white cat photos as a thank-you gift. It would match the aesthetic perfectly. The door at the end of the hall opened.

“Holy shit,” she said, before her hand came to cover her mouth .

Gavin stood before her. In a towel. Her eyes, bugging out of her head, locked on the cheese grater abs on his stomach.

“I said I’ll be out in a minute,” he growled.

Her eyes met his. Gavin’s eyebrows were almost covering his eyes, his glare was so pronounced.

“Right. Sorry,” she said, or at least tried to. Her hand was still in front of her mouth, so it came out a muffled mess, but she didn’t stick around to clarify. She resembled an elderly woman in a matching tracksuit with how quickly she sped-walked back to the safety of the living room.

That was exactly the kind of view she didn’t need when she was trying to get her feelings in check when it came to Gavin. While appreciation for his body didn’t really impact how she felt, it certainly didn’t help. Her nipples were chafing. Heat pooling between her legs. She rushed to the kitchen, found a glass, and gulped down a tall drink of cold water.

Her inconvenient reaction intensified when she saw how he was dressed. She’d never seen him so casual. She wasn’t sure if it was the Venus trine Mars transit in the skies today or the fact that she’d seen him mostly naked, but damn he looked sexy in sweats and a t-shirt. She could almost see the outline of his abs through the white jersey. It looked soft and expensive, and she wanted to rub her face in it. She bet it smelled like him too—like lavender and laundry detergent.

“You’re early,” he grumbled out.

She pulled her gawking eyes up to his face. His eyebrows were displeased again.

“Yes, well, first rule of business coaching was don’t be late.” She leaned back against the countertop and knocked a few dishes into the sink. They clanged loudly.

“And you thought you’d let yourself in?”

The fog in her lust-filled brain cleared. His reaction was a bit more pissed than she expected. Then she noticed the cut .

Sabrina found a roll of paper towels. Ripping off a square, she crossed to him, forgetting about his touching phobia, and pressed it along his jaw.

“You’re bleeding,” she said.

He grabbed her wrist. It wasn't tight, but it was enough to jolt her eyes to his. They looked like storm clouds today. And then, like when he’d held and kissed her, the grip softened. His thumb stroked.

“I nicked myself shaving when I heard you.”

He pulled her hand away gently and motioned for the paper towel.

“Sorry, I should have waited, but my bag was heavy.”

His eyes grew concerned as he walked over to the dining room table.

“We need to get you a backpack,” he grumbled, “it’s much more ergonomic.” He glared menacingly at her bag like it had hurt her or something.

“Are you OK, you seem upset?” She knew he was a Cancer rising, i.e. King of the Mood Swings, but he seemed almost distressed. It didn’t make any sense because he had probably been surrounded by Gladys’s delicious cooking and his brothers’ playful banter all Thanksgiving weekend.

“I’m not upset.” He clicked his mouse obsessively to wake up his laptop on the table.

“Did Gilbert spit in your pie yesterday? I bet you deserved it.”

Even her teasing had no effect. He stood there for a moment, statuesque, staring at his spreadsheet before turning to her suddenly.

“Before we begin, there’s something I want to talk about.”

“Uh, yeah, what’s up? Seriously, is everything OK?” The graveness he exuded made those confrontation jitters sound off in her body. She braced for conflict, like he’d stomped on the gas pedal and she was being flung back against the seat. She took a deep breath. This was Gavin. He was the king of reason, page of calm, ace of logic .

“I want you to know that if you need to back out of the retreat…if your circumstances have changed…I understand. There is no obligation for you to attend. We can still have our coaching session as planned and part amicably.”

“Sorry, what?”

His words were like a gut punch during a Saturn besiegement. Was he breaking up with her? Was that even a thing if you were only posing as a girlfriend? Was she so horrible at fake dating, like every other business venture she’d attempted in her lifetime?

“I understand if you feel uncomfortable attending the retreat if you’re getting back together with your fiancé. You don’t need to honour our commitment if your situation has changed. Consider our agreement null and void.”

He looked back to his computer.

“Gavin.” He looked back up at her. She’d never seen him like this and it was difficult to pinpoint exactly what she was observing. She’d seen the man grumpy more times than she could count. Judgmental. Irritated. Frustrated. But here he looked hurt? Vulnerable? Disappointed?

Was Gavin Glengarry jealous? Of Duncan ?

“Is there any reason, other than Duncan, that you don’t want me to come to the retreat?”

“No,” he didn’t take his eyes from her, “I would like it very much if you were there, but as I said—”

Her body snapped that statement up like an elastic band, rebounding after her earlier internal freak-out. I would like it very much if you were there.

“I’m not backing out.” She took a step towards him, and his face changed. His lips opened. His eyes softened. There was no mistaking it. It’s like his whole body sighed in relief. The tension that had been radiating off him dissipated instantaneously. “Not that it’s any of your business…” she feigned aloofness, “but Duncan and I are not getting back together.” She took another step towards him. “Not to mention, I would endure another Saturn return before Alfred won his asshole bet.”

He let out a small smile on an exhalation. “I assume that’s a bad thing.”

“The worst. Except for maybe a curse.”

“A curse is definitely worse,” he said, and before she knew it, Sabrina was pulled into a hug. A full-blown Gavin-Glengarry-initiated embrace. The other day she’d been so caught up in her grief, she hadn’t fully appreciated how easily his arms wrapped around her. His t-shirt against her cheek was buttery soft. She wanted to make a little nest, where everything felt safe. She was nothing if not an opportunist; she snuggled closer.

“Besides, I know what you’re trying to do. You think you’re soooo confident with your astrology small-talk spreadsheet that you think you don’t need me, that you can keep that signing bonus all to yourself…” she said.

“You’ve seen through me so easily. You must be psychic.”

“Just my intuition.”

Sabrina felt an odd vibration right next to a part of her that had no business pulsating.

“Sorry.” He cleared his throat and silenced his phone. But the snug hug-nest she’d cultivated for herself was over.

He looked at her, again with a pained expression she couldn’t read. “Sabrina, do you think—” The phone started buzzing again. He gave a heavy sigh and said, “Do you mind?”

Yes! her insides screamed. But Sabrina shook her head as he answered the call.

“Hey, Mom.”

If it had been anyone other than Gladys Glengarry, she probably would have thrown his phone down the toilet, desperate to know what he was about to say. Was it possible that her feelings were reciprocated? She’d imagined various scenarios all weekend. One of them involved Gavin declaring his undying love outside her window with a boom box like in Say Anything . Or maybe he’d prefer to climb up the fire escape like Richard Gere? But the fact of the matter was if she acted on her attraction before the retreat, there was a very significant risk that she would mess things up irrevocably. Her guilt also pointed out that he’d held up his end of this business-coaching bargain. She couldn’t let him down this weekend.

“Are you sure? Did you try resetting the breaker?…Mom, I’m a bit busy right now, can I come out later this evening?…Could you use the woodstove?…”

He looked livid suddenly. Furious like she’d never seen him. Then he looked at her apologetically. “Yeah, I’m with her right now actually.”

He went into his kitchen, voice hushed.

“How did you find out?…Right…No, she’s busy this afternoon…and this evening. I’m not bringing her. No, I won’t put her on the phone. Just…give me a minute.”

He set his phone on mute before saying, “I’m going to kill Gilbert.” He shook his head. “I think the furnace may be busted so I need to head out there. Can I come by your place later this evening?”

The two of them, cozied up in her apartment, sounded exactly like one of the scenarios Véro had been warning her about. But they likely wouldn’t have another coaching session before the retreat this weekend, as she needed to be at the shop as much as possible.

“Uh, what time?”

He scrubbed his face, brushing the small scab on his chin. His jaw started bleeding again. “I don’t know.” He glanced at his old vintage watch. “I can’t say.”

A full-blown change had come over him. Agitation, much like the evening she’d met him, was painted across his body from his twitchy hands to his pacing feet .

“Why don’t I come with you? We can chat in the car, I can hang with your mom. It could be a new business model—Coaching on Wheels.”

He looked down at his phone.

“Don’t tell me the efficiency of the plan isn’t at least a little bit seductive.”

He took them off mute.

“Hey, Mom, I’ve got you on speakerphone.”

“Hi, Gladys,” Sabrina said.

“Sabrina. Don’t listen to a thing Gavin says. Please tell me you’ll come visit this afternoon.”

Sabrina looked to Gavin, who nodded like a man being sent to the gallows.

“I’ll bring my cards, we’ll do a reading.”

“Perfect! I’m so excited.”

“We’ll see you soon, Mom.” Gavin packed up his things on the table, and after lots of enthusiastic goodbyes on Gladys and Sabrina’s part, he ended the call.

“This’ll be fun.” Sabrina reached for her purse on the table.

Gavin took it from her. “I hate lying to my mother.” Dread emanated from the frown lines on his face, illuminating regret inside her too.

“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.”

Misleading a bunch of strangers she’d never see again at a corporate retreat was only mildly disconcerting for her conscience. How the hell was she supposed to convince Gladys that they were together? And what was she supposed to say next week after the retreat?

They made their way to his old but impeccably clean Civic. He held the car door open for her and then got into the driver’s seat. Sabrina buckled her seatbelt, still rummaging through their options.

There was only one logical solution. “We could tell your mother the truth—”

“I can’t. She’d be furious with me.”

“No, it’ll be fine, I’ll just explain how much you’ve helped me and the shop. I can help her understand—”

“No,” he interjected again. “It would also lead to questions I can’t answer at the moment.”

“That’s cryptic.”

He turned to her as he started the car, with a devious lopsided grin. It was a good thing she was buckled in right now because her immediate instinct was to fling her body at him. “I was promised efficient business coaching. Did you do your homework? Or are you trying to distract me?” Despite the fact his face seemed relaxed and his voice calm, Sabrina couldn’t help but feel a bit uneasy about his avoidance of the topic. Of the truth. But she’d let it go, for now.

She opened up her laptop, “Prepare to be amazed, Coach.”