The Fate Date (Glengarry Curse #1)

18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Gavin

G avin made a mental note to add carpooling to the list of things he abhorred, right under “working lunches” and “teambuilding”. They’d played Tetris to fit all of Effie’s suitcases into what should have been the roomy Tesla SUV Alfred was driving. Gavin’s knees were pressed into his chest, not helping the constriction he’d felt when he saw Sabrina, despite them only being separated a few days. She looked different than usual—her eclectic jewelry and colourful clothing traded in for a sombre all-black outfit. Though he never initiated any of their text conversations this week, his hands itched to check his phone constantly, mind spiralling if she took longer than thirty seconds to respond. At least his carpool mates served to keep his sappy impulses in check.

They crossed over the rapids of the Ottawa River using the rickety Alexandria Bridge. Mid-October it was banked by the vibrant autumn foliage on either side and a stunning view of Parliament as the sun gleamed off the green rooftops. Entering the province of Québec, the dividing waterline served as a translator; the traffic signs and storefronts magically changed to list the familiar amenities in French as they started their ascent of the Gatineau Hills. The retreat location was at a glamping hotel along Lac Gauvreau. They followed the pothole-ridden drive towards the main dining area in the late afternoon. Gavin’s colleagues dragged their wheeled suitcases across the grass, entering the tiny cottages strewn around the grounds .

Leaving Alfred to deal with Effie’s luggage, Gavin grabbed their bags and walked the gravel parking lot towards the wood frame, window-lined main lodge—a trendy mix of rustic yet modern architecture.

Sabrina fidgeted with the sleeve of her dress.

“You OK, Tink?”

“Yeah, a little nervous.”

Gavin held the door for her. Sabrina floated, wide-eyed into the lobby, her gaze roving over the high wood-beamed ceilings and minimalist nature-themed decor. As he went to check in, she helped herself to a glass of orange-and-rosemary-infused water at a station in the lobby next to a dried flower installment. “Under Glengarry,” he said to the concierge. Sabrina was devoured by a plush velvet armchair by the fireplace. A fire crackled in the hearth, which had to explain the warm feeling he had deep in his core.

“Ah yes, the Honeymoon Cabin,” the concierge said in his booming voice.

Gavin’s head whipped around. “I’m sorry, what? There must be a mistake—”

“No, I see a note here—”

Fuck. Gavin had called ahead to ask for a bigger cabin. He didn’t need to add a torturous night next to Sabrina, feigning sleep with a hard-on, to his list of things to worry about this weekend. He had a difficult enough time keeping his spontaneous boners in check around her during waking hours.

He leaned in and lowered his voice. “You’ve misunderstood. I was hoping for a cabin with two separate rooms.”

“You don’t want the Honeymoon Cabin?” The man was incapable of whispering. He banged on the keyboard. “I’m not sure I have a cabin with—”

“Problem, Gavin?” Alfred crossed the lobby, arms laden with Effie’s things, as she trailed behind him on her phone.

“No. No problem.” Gavin gave a panicked look at Sabrina who was watching the situation from the armchair.

“But you said you didn’t want the Honeymoon Cabin?” said the concierge.

Gavin froze, uncertain how to proceed. Ian and Melanie came into the hall, along with some of his other colleagues.

“I…uhhh…”

He was saved by Sabrina’s tinkling voice. “The Honeymoon Cabin, what a thoughtful surprise, Gavin.” She pushed between Alfred and Effie, eyes sparkling malevolently, which could only signify one intention.

He ducked his head down, swooped his arm around her, and kissed her.

Instead of devolving into a tsunami of feral lust like their previous kissing encounters, her lips soothed his rapid pulse. The restrained brush of her lips caused tiny tendrils of pleasure to unfurl throughout his body. It was chaste, save for her tongue that popped out shyly, like she couldn’t help but sneak a taste of his mouth. He wanted to suck it. But before he could circle his lips around it, she pulled back. He wished he could lock them in the Honeymoon Cabin for three days of sexed out bliss. But then he remembered his professional audience and the reason they were both here in the first place and begrudgingly yielded to her better judgment.

He pulled away, but kept his hand low on her back, making soothing circles in the little curve there. He studied her reaction as he said, “The Honeymoon Cabin is perfect.” She held his eye contact and blushed, before snuggling into his embrace. He assumed she was comfortable with the arrangement at least, even if he was considering chopping his cock off to escape the torture.

“It’s the cabin furthest from the main hall,” The concierge circled a brown square on the map he provided .

He saw Sabrina take a quick peek at Alfred and Effie, who were hanging on every word. “Probably for the best, don’t you think,” before she winked and pulled him close again.

Gavin knew it was reckless to give in to these impulses, but damn it felt good. If he couldn’t be honest about his feelings yet, he could at least yield to his fascination in public, for appearance’s sake.

He stilled his hands on her hips, though no one else would be able to sense how tightly he gripped her. He brought his lips close to her ear. His colleagues would witness an intimate, but tasteful moment. Only she would hear what he had to say. “You can be as loud as you want, Tink,” he said, voice seductively low. Then he brushed his lips behind her earlobe with what would appear to be a chaste kiss, and not a sinful promise.

He heard that little gasp of breath that had rattled him in Ian’s dining room—shock, mixed with desire. He wanted to hear it over and over as he sucked her with his mouth, pleasured her with his hands, worked her with his cock.

The concierge checked his watch. “We’ll have the staff deposit your bags, as the retreat is about to get started.”

Gavin took a step back, twined his fingers with hers, and went to join the other retreat attendees. He felt calmer now, bolstered by both her presence and their attraction. He’d avoided an attachment like this for his whole life, but giving in to temptation was actually enhancing his career image. She was his lucky charm. His protective amulet against society. And if he couldn’t make this relationship real in private yet, he damn well was going to sell it in public.

***

“ W elcome to Lac Gauvreau retreat centre.” A woman with short gray hair and a shrill voice projected over the crowd, her purple matching tracksuit in stark contrast to the business-casual attire the retreat participants sported. “My name is Sue, and I will be your facilitator for the weekend as we work to hone your teamwork,”—she jumped forwards as she punched the sky—“sharpen your strategy,”—this time a split stance—“and get your initiative pumping on this corporate retreat.” She started clapping and cheering. Sabrina felt the awkward sensation of second-hand embarrassment tingle inside her. Her body cringed, shoulders tightened, until she let out a little “whoop” in solidarity with Sue. She was the only one.

“Alright, tough crowd.” Sue beamed like she’d slammed a case of Red Bull. “We’re going to start the weekend with a little ceremony, if you’ll follow me.”

The group traipsed across the grass, the moisture seeping into Sabrina’s shoes, much like the soaked leaves littering the ground. She already regretted the scratchy shift dress she’d selected. She wanted to rub herself against a tree like a bear or on Gavin. Judging by the grim set of faces in the procession, neither option would be appropriate. In this darling rustic environment, she would have thought everyone would relax a little. Instead, the group clumped together like a tangle of cobwebs, clinging to their stuffy personas.

The names and birthcharts she’d memorized over the past two weeks were coming to life before her very eyes and Sabrina began to catalogue her friendship targets. She identified Jonathan Li immediately: tall, lean, dark hair, and a mouth that was more of a devastating slash across his face. Gavin said he’d been recruited to the board for his keen financial acumen, a perfect expression of his Capricorn stellium. On his arm was his wife, Min. They didn’t have any birthday details for the spouses, but the fact that Min’s jewelry, lips, and brocade cocktail dress were all a bold crimson across her pale skin was giving definite Leo-Libra vibes. Her dark hair cascaded in waves down one side; the woman was striking elegance personified .

Leslie Klein, another board member, was easily identifiable. She looked like Cruella de Vil, only with a better hairdresser: her blunt white bob accentuating the collarbones visible above her black sheath dress. She had a reputation for being ruthless with that big Scorpio energy. Sabrina knew that the fixed water sign held a well of emotion for those that took the time to look.

Omar Assad matched Gavin’s height but was thicker built and sported a shaved head. Almost a little like The Rock, although their personalities couldn’t be more opposite. His Mercury had some harsh aspects, so Sabrina suspected he was one of those “strong but silent” types who had made his nut in the oil industry. According to Gavin, he’d met his partner Ashley Romirez on the opposite side of a pipeline protest. Ashley studied the group, much like Sabrina was doing, through their round blue glasses.

At the rear of the group trudged a man with his head down and a scowl so pronounced he could have been a shorter version of Gavin only aged thirty years. Sabrina guessed this was Malcolm Dahl. Gavin had explained that the recently retired co-founder of IM Securities, and former CFO, had stayed on as a Board member.

The group stopped at the edge of a wooded area, overflowing with ferns. “We’ll start the weekend with the planting of the Leadership Fern.” Sue invited the CEO, Ian, to the front, and another, older woman that Sabrina assumed was Bojana Filipovi?, Effie’s aunt. She walked slowly, each step purposeful. She tucked her glossy black hair behind her ears before accepting the outstretched shovel from Sue. The two started digging, though Bojana seemed to be struggling with her five-inch heels.

Alfred swanned to the front, “May I?”

Sabrina figured the woman would be hellbent on completing the task herself, but instead, Bojana handed over the shovel. She patted Alfred on the shoulder in a familiar gesture and said something to him quietly that the group couldn’t hear. Alfred’s obnoxious laughter was corrosive, to both her ears and her certainty. Gavin said he wasn’t worried about Alfred getting the promotion, but Bojana’s blatant adoration for her niece and soon-to-be nephew-in-law was palpable and concerning.

Sue continued her rallying speech, “Like the groups who have come before you here at Lac Gauvreau Conference and Event Centre,” she gestured to the cluster of ferns around them, “we plant this Leadership Fern as a gesture of lasting commitment to teamwork. The gifts and talents of IM Securities will nurture the plant, allowing it to grow in succession with the towering trees you see before us…”

Sabrina saw Gavin look at his watch and she gave him a nudge. His body refused to budge. He aimed his eyebrow fury at Sue.

“It will be up to you as a team to care for your fragile bond so that your corporate Leadership Fern will grow…”

“This makes no sense,” Gavin said, through gritted teeth. “How are we supposed to take care of the fern if we’re planting it here.”

“I think it’s a metaphor.”

He glared at Sabrina.

“My inner Leadership Fern died a little, Gavin.”

Gavin thought he needed her to impress the board, but Sabrina knew her real role. She was here to bring out his playful side. The one that only she seemed to reach. And though it added to confusion roiling inside her, she’d learned one sure-fire way of achieving this—she took his hand.

Her touch was like magic. She relaxed his taut muscles like she was warming the hovel where he hid his heart with her unique brand of sunbeams, coaxing him out into the light. He brushed her hand with his thumb and exhaled deeply as Sue finished her motivational fern speech. The sensation made Sabrina feel jumbled up inside—not in a bad way. More like brownie batter; mixed up and delicious and did anyone really get sick from eating it? Though she’d intended the gesture to help him, the way he leaned against her arm bolstered her confidence too. Like they were a team. Partners. Stuck to each other like the sides of a pan.

“…We’re going to split you into groups now. You will all be given an animal, and as we walk back to the main hall, you need to make its noise to find your group,” Sue said.

The announcement had Gavin squeezing Sabrina’s hand and her pulse ticking faster. They were being separated?

“You’ll do great,” she said as they were assigned different barnyard animals.

He let out a monotone “Moo” as he paced away from her. Sabrina did her best rooster impression with the moving crowd.

She heard Alfred’s crowing first. The pair located another man, with wire frame glasses and brown skin that looked to be middle aged. “I’m Aidan,” he murmured, “Nila's husband.”

Sabrina ran through the list of facts she’d tucked away about Nila: three kids, oldest at Waterloo, South Asian heritage, delicious cook, manages one of the testing teams. “Nice to meet you. Nila is on one of Gavin’s teams. He’s my partner.”

Aidan gave her a hesitant smile.

The animal sounds became more subdued as they neared the main hall, and they found their final member, a Black woman, with long purple knotless braids. She seemed slightly older than Sabrina, by her guess. “I’m Bethany. I’m Mariana’s wife.” She gestured to a pale woman with auburn hair that was in Gavin’s cow group.

Mariana wasn’t one of the names on their spreadsheet. Alfred looked confused as well. “Mariana is the external candidate for the CFO position,” Bethany said, eying their reaction.

Alfred spoke first. “Ah, the competition.”

Sabrina hadn’t expected the external candidate to be at the retreat. The board must be serious about her. She glanced over at Gavin. Judging from his scowl, she wondered if he was thinking the same thing?

Their group found a table, scattered with markers and chart paper, and Sue started hollering over the crowd. “We’re going to play a game called ‘whodunit’. On a slip of paper, write something about yourself. Your teammates will guess who it belongs to.”

Alfred wrote that he graduated from Ivey Business School. Bethany said she was a speech-language pathologist. Aidan shared that he was an orthodontist.

“Saw Taylor Swift perform three times,” Bethany read from her slip of paper and gave a tight smile as she guessed Sabrina correctly.

Next, they were asked to draw a picture of the one thing they would bring to a deserted island. Sabrina watched her teammates’ predictable responses—a utility knife, waterproof matches, a tarp.

“Hey, folks, can I make a suggestion?”

They peered up at her.

“What if we didn’t think about getting off the island… What if we brought the one item that would bring us peace of mind. A lifeline to the past while we’re there.”

Her teammates exchanged glances.

Alfred set his marker down. “Why don’t we stick to the instructions.” He patted her hand and pulled out his phone. A bubble of frustration built up inside her, but before it burst, she heard Bethany’s voice, hard and reassuring.

“I think Sabrina’s right. It’s meant to be a teambuilding exercise for us to get to know each other. Aidan, what would you bring?”

“I would bring my tuba.”

“You play the tuba?” Sabrina asked.

He dipped his head, revealing a little bald spot in the centre. “Music helps me express myself in moments of stress.”

“I would bring Post-its and glitter pens,” Sabrina said. “It would make me feel like a little part of my mother was there with me.”

“I’d bring this.” Bethany gestured to her leather jacket. It was a cropped moto-style, the kind that was lived in, molded to her body like a second skin. “My favourite aunt gave it to me. It’s like my battle armour. I even wore it walking down the aisle on my wedding day. Whenever I want to feel confident, I reach for it in my closet.”

Alfred capitulated. “I’d bring a shawarma sandwich.” The group sighed in agreement. “From Shawarma Prince,” he specified. Everyone in Ottawa had their favourite spot.

Sabrina was glad she had spoken up—their group seemed more relaxed than the other tables surrounding them, whose participants all studied their phones instead of each other. Including Gavin’s.

Then, Sue got up to speak, “Alright, for your next challenge, you need to find a way to use your items to plan an escape off your island.”

Sabrina’s smugness plummeted.

“We could go with our original answers…” Alfred suggested.

“No,” Bethany said, “this will be more fun.”

They all looked at Sabrina. It felt like someone had inserted Pop Rocks into her head. Why had she made such a ridiculous suggestion? She closed her eyes and took a cleansing breath. Before their team could discuss further, Sue called the group to attention, leaving Sabrina to her circling thoughts of doom as the other teams presented their ideas.

They were all variations of the same—flares to alert helicopters overhead, rafts lashed together using palm trees and braided rope, emergency rations fished from the ocean. It was all very practical and plausible. Sabrina’s heart sank.

They were the last group. The other roosters looked to Sabrina, which was only fair. She stood, feeling lightheaded. The unease of being in front of a group usually scrambled her thoughts more than her Mercury in Libra. A sea of bored faces splashed back at her. Her shaking hand reached for the table and she bumped Alfred’s coffee mug so the last dregs spilled on his phone.

“Sorry,” she hissed out.

“You got this,” Bethany said. Aidan gave her a small thumbs up .

She needed to ground herself. Considering they were in a conference room, and she couldn’t go wiggle her toes in the grass, she sought the next best thing.

She found Gavin’s face in the crowd. He held her gaze. He was always so calm, the embodiment of the earthly constant. His eyes were an overcast grey today, which anchored her in the moment.

“Our group took a different approach to the task. We all thought of items, however impractical, that we couldn’t live without. A tuba—” She pointed to Aidan, who lifted his hand. Someone gave a little titter, she assumed Nila. “A leather jacket.” Sabrina’s eyes sought Mariana, who issued the first smile Sabrina had seen from her so far. She seemed serious like Gavin, but she was all softness when it came to her wife. “Post-its and glitter markers.” Sabrina placed her palm on her chest, applying pressure to give herself a moment of self-comfort. “And a shawarma sandwich,” she said, pointing to Alfred. There were a few more chuckles around the room.

“Everyone knows that tubas sound like whales, so that’s how we started.” She motioned to Aidan. “Whales also happen to be Beethoven fanatics.” Aidan mimed playing the tuba, his bomp-bomp-bomp—BOMP to the tune of Symphony No. 5 . More laughs.

“When the whale appeared, Alfred here did his best whale voice to ask for a ride.”

“Caaa-aann weeee gee-ettt a riiiideee-ee.” He fluctuated his voice like Dory from Finding Nemo .

“We brokered a competitive deal. The whale agreed to take us to the nearest island with an airport in exchange for Alfred’s Shawarma Prince sandwich.” She was talking faster now. “We huddled under Bethany’s leather jacket in a nice cozy corner of the whale’s stomach, keeping away from the krill as best we could. And when we got to the island of Barbados, we gave the whale his sandwich, along with a thoughtful thank-you note with my glitter pens and Post-its. The end.”

Genuine applause erupted around the room. There were still a few holdouts: Malcolm appeared to have a perma-scowl, and Leslie clapped stiffly. Bojana was on her phone, but Sabrina’s eyes sought the only person she really cared about.

Gavin was smiling. She ate it up, given that he was a smile prude. Her little stunt had been a bit of a risk, but it was worth it to see the pleasure on his face.

Sue jolted upright. “Alright, folks, on that note, we can all retire to the dining room for dinner. I’ll encourage you to mingle with people with the same colour plate so that you can continue with the icebreakers.”

Sabrina let out a sigh of relief and began to tidy up the tables—she didn’t want Sue to have to clean up after them. She noticed Gavin speaking with Malcolm off to the side. She was hidden from view in the corner, but not out of earshot. It meant she heard the hushed conversation between Alfred and Effie as they left through the side entrance, towards the lobby.

“I can’t believe you spoke whale.”

“It was all in good fun, Eff, the crowd loved it—”

“It was embarrassing. Sabrina is so weird. God, if I’d done something that humiliating, I’d hide in my cabin for the rest of the weekend. I bet Gavin already regrets bringing her.”

Her hand froze mid-air, the final comment stabbing panic through her.

“Hey,” came Gavin’s rumbly voice.

Sabrina whirled around, surprised. Had he heard the conversation too? She dropped a few markers. He picked them up off the table.

“You did great,” he said, assisting her in bringing supplies up to the front near the exit.

“Are you sure it wasn’t…embarrassing?” she asked.

“I thought you were charming.”

“Well, let’s hope your colleagues thought so too.”

“You OK?” he asked, his now empty hands coming to grab one of hers. It had the same grounding effect. A helping lifeline in a storm of anxiety.

“Yeah. Great,” she said. There was no sense in repeating what she’d heard. Sabrina simply had to pray that Effie was an outlier, and that she hadn’t opened herself or Gavin up to scrutiny. Most people seemed to enjoy her little tale, but it didn’t erase the fact that she had a habit of bungling things. She was better off sticking to her role as ‘Government Communications Liaison Officer’ to fit in with this corporate crowd instead of drawing further attention. “Let’s go eat,” she said, heading once more into the fray.