The Fate Date (Glengarry Curse #1)

19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Gavin

G avin gripped Sabrina’s hand as they strolled into a networking nightmare. It was all the things he hated most: small talk, a waste of company time, and people spraying food while they engaged in said activities. But the worst thing was that something had upset Sabrina, which made him want to upend each of the buffet trays lined up on the table—an action that he conceded would solve nothing, and the irrationality of the urge only annoyed him further.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” In their reflection in the dining hall’s windowed wall, he registered how close he was standing to her.

Even the corners of her mouth seemed deflated. “Just hungry.”

She’d have her pick from the cross-country road trip of delicacies displayed. A deconstructed “Jiggs dinner”, an oyster bar, lobster rolls, gourmet poutine, venison sausage, steak frites, Pacific salmon, and smoked arctic char. Everything was served in bite-size morsels, forcing the dinner guests to fill their plates and mingle throughout the room.

Gavin let Sabrina go ahead of him as they approached the East Coast seafood selections. “This is one shell of a dinner.”

She wheeled around with a look that was as surprised as he felt. “Did you just make a pun?”

He shrugged. “I saw an oppor- tuna -ty.”

She sucked in a breath and let out a sound that could only be described as a snort .

“Everything is so so-fish-sticated,” he said, slightly louder so she could hear him over her giggles, his earlier worry evaporating at the sight of the crinkles in her eyes. “Crab one for me?” He gestured to the oysters, and she started cackling.

“What’s so funny?” Omar said from behind him.

Gavin ducked his head and moved up in line, spooning a bit of mignonette onto his oyster.

“Gavin,” Sabrina said through laughter.

Omar crossed his muscled arms across his chest, just as his partner Ashley came to join him.

Sabrina seemed to be waiting for Gavin to continue, holding up the line so a bigger crowd gathered.

“It’s nothing…” he mumbled, trying to push her forwards.

She held her ground, her free hand coming to wrap around his arm. “You’re kraken me up.” The corners of her mouth twitched as she stared up at him, her joy hinging on his reaction.

And, for perhaps the first time in his life, he didn’t care about the efficiency of a lineup. “The food is truly ex-squid-zit.”

A rumble of laughter rang out behind him but he didn’t look to see. His eyes were glued to Sabrina’s long lashes and the way tears glittered on the tips. “My puns are a-trout-cious.” More laughter from all sides now. He gestured to Sabrina, who was now doubling over. “She’s lobster control.”

“S-s-top,” she said.

“My butter half doesn’t mean it.” Gavin felt like he was soaring. He grabbed two lobster rolls and moved towards one of the standing cocktail tables. He threw one more joke over his shoulder, “That’s dolphinately enough puns.”

Sabrina came up beside him, snaking her arm around his bicep. “Gavin, that was really funny,” she whispered through some lingering chuckles. “The board loved it. Well played. ”

Gavin noticed Bojana Filipovi? watching him with narrowed eyes. He looked down at his plate of food. That hadn’t been his intention.

“Gavin.” Jonathan Li, one of the board members, approached him with his hand outstretched. He’d never done so at the board meetings before. “Allow me to introduce my wife, Min.” Her dark hair was pushed to the side in waves, revealing sparkling red earrings that matched her cocktail dress.

Gavin nodded at the pair. He wished he’d grabbed a napkin to wipe the sweat that gathered at his brow. Sabrina stroked his arm up and down, a sweet relief to the tension coiling in the back of his neck.

“I never knew you were so funny, Gavin,” Nila said as the crowd grew.

“Those were fish-tastic,” Alfred said.

“Fin-tastic,” Gavin blurted. It was a closer word approximation.

Alfred’s tongue grazed his teeth.

“It’s a game I used to play with my dad growing up. He loved puns,” Gavin explained.

“Gavin has a wicked sense of humour,” Sabrina said to Nila, then angled her head towards Jonathan. “And an eye for details, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

“I was impressed by your handling of the McKinnon portfolio. Nice catch on the prototype presentation,” Jonathan noted.

Gavin nodded. He felt Sabrina digging her elbow into his side, like she was prompting him to speak. What did she want him to say? He wasn’t going to brag about doing his job?

Alfred jumped on the break in conversation. “Jonathan, I’m working with the McKinnon group to resubmit.” He rocked forwards on his heels.

Jonathan arched a brow at Alfred.

“A pilot project,” Gavin elaborated. “We’re working on redefining the criteria for R it wasn’t unpleasant, more exhilarating as his mind tallied the pros and cons. He could try, this evening, to make back a few hundred online. Just this once. It would only take a few hands. His stress was replaced with the buoyancy of what-ifs: what-if he could get his brother the money? What-if he could breathe a little easier this semester with a buffer in his bank account? What-if he could really make this Christmas suck a little less?

“Let me check the bank statements,” he said noncommittally to his brother.

Only gambling and desperation were never a sound mix.

Bleary eyed, the next morning, down a couple of hundred, Gavin knocked on his brother’s door. “I checked the accounts and there’s no room in the budget for the grad trip.” In fact, the small amount he’d managed to save since the spring was gone— and then some.

Gilbert looked up from his phone and sighed exasperatedly. “The first payment is due next week. I’ll look for a job in the new year, I promise. It’ll just be a loan.”

Gavin took in his brother’s wide-eyed pleading face. He couldn’t get him the money. But he could spare him the truth.

“I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“Yeah right, you didn’t even ask how much it was.”

Gavin kept his face still and remained silent.

“What happened to you? You literally suck fun out of the room wherever you go.”

His brother shoved him into the doorframe as he stormed past. The pain ricocheted through Gavin’s body. It hurt so bad. Not physically, rather the constant collision of guilt and grief that every time he tried to escape, he just made worse. His impulses had torn their family apart. And they were ripping him apart too.

Gilbert made things fun and brought out the side of Gavin that had been bold and carefree himself. But seeing his father in Gilbert’s actions was terrifying. Gavin was living proof of where those choices led.

Gilbert needed the tough love. He needed to grow up. And Gavin had to accept his new family role as well.

Never again. He could never gamble again.

Alfred gripped Gavin’s shoulder. “Come on, Gavin, a friendly little competition. Aidan and Jonathan are in. What do you say?”

Gavin shrugged him off. “I don’t gamble.”

“Cut out the money then.” Effie smiled, a little menacingly, at Alfred. “Let’s put something truly important on the line. The most valuable player tomorrow, as judged by Sue, gets to decide the presentation order for the candidates on Sunday.”

Gavin’s heart raced, both thrilled and disgusted at the loophole.

Mariana and Bethany joined the group. “I’m in.” Mariana shook hands with Alfred and they both looked over at Gavin.

“Come on, Gavin, be a good sport,” Ian said from behind him.

“No.”

Jonathan and Omar exchanged smirking looks.

A hand came to Gavin’s chest; her nails were painted a soothing periwinkle. Sabrina looked up at him, her brow furrowed like she was trying to puzzle out his reluctance. He knew he’d snagged her intuitive alarm bells and there would be questions later—perceptive ones, like she was seeing into the darkest corners of his soul.

“Gavin is so conscientious,” she said. He let his heart beat wildly under her touch, instead of pounding as he ran in the opposite direction.

She was giving him an out. And he should take it. But old habits died hard.

“Fine.” He shrugged, trying to contain the competitive desire coursing through him.

Her gaze scanned his taut body, and she pulled her hand away from his chest. He tried to relax, to lean into the bluff, but she seemed to see through it. She always did.

“If you’ll excuse us, we’re going to need a good night’s rest before the game tomorrow,” she said.

All he could do was nod along to Sabrina’s thoughtful farewells, overwhelmed with the familiar onslaught of regret. There was no money involved, he tried to tell himself. He would ace the presentation no matter what. He only agreed because he didn’t want to explain his reticence, and not for the thrill of the bet. Or at least, that’s how he would compartmentalize it—with Sabrina on one side, his secrets tucked away on the other, another foolhardy surrender to keep them safe.