The Fate Date (Glengarry Curse #1)

20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Sabrina

S abrina trudged past the cabins, the names of the other retreat attendees swirling in her head so fast she felt a headache coming on. Something about Alfred’s bet had Gavin stomping about like he was vying for the title of Mr. Groucho Supreme. Even the thought of snuggling into bed filled her with distress; the looming honeymoon suite a mocking source of vexation. It was like the universe was daring her to keep her panties on at this point.

They got to their cabin and flicked on the lights. The focal point of the room was, as she suspected, the king-size bed. The haunting personification of their sexual tension was framed by large bedposts, and adorned with pristine white sheets and rose petals scattered in the shape of a heart. Two towels had been sculpted into kissing swans at the foot of the bed. There was a bottle of champagne chilling on the side table, next to a bowl of chocolate-covered strawberries.

Sabrina sank against the wall and laughed.

She couldn’t help it. All the stress bubbling inside erupted out in a fit of giggles. This would be her luck. She was being gifted the most romantic getaway, yet her undergarments needed to remain intact until Monday. She’d packed her ankle-length flannel nightgown for God’s sake. She wondered if the satin sheets would make it staticky.

From behind her, she heard a deep, hearty sound, and was shocked to find Gavin laughing too. Like at dinner, it was deliriously contagious.

Gavin checked out the bathroom. “Th-there’s a jacuzzi tub in here. ”

Sabrina flung herself on the bed, the rose petals fluttering all over her as she snuggled into the sheets.

Gavin’s laugh was snuffed out mid-chuckle. She looked up, her chest still rising and falling with the last vestiges of humour—he was staring at her on the bed. His jaw slackened, and she saw his tongue swipe along his teeth. God, what she wouldn’t give to feel it on her body. In another flash, his gaze searched the room, like he was seeking another place to sleep. There were none.

“I can…” he inhaled deeply “…sleep on the floor.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Gavin. We’re both mature adults.” Well, her fantasies might disagree, but he didn’t need to know that. “I could probably lie sideways on this bed and still not reach you.”

His jaw clenched. His face was angled towards the door, yet his gaze stole back to her.

Sabrina pushed the rose petals into a straight line down the middle of the bed. “My side, your side.”

He edged closer and pushed the petals towards her side “I think we should have an equitable division of space, based on size.”

“Absolutely not.” She pushed the petals back towards the middle. Her hands brushed his and they both pulled their hands back like they’d been electrocuted. Her nerves were so frayed she couldn’t hide her reaction, and the incident sucked the remaining cheer right out of the room.

Surprisingly, it was Gavin who recovered first. “Hey, I know we’re both pretty tired, but would you be up for one more activity before bed?”

Her mind jumped to the very obvious activity she was definitely not going to engage in. She briefly wondered how much sex this room had seen? Though she wouldn’t put it past Gavin to blandly invite her to engage in intercourse with him, she had a feeling that wasn’t what he had in mind.

“Yeah, sure. ”

“Great,” he said on an exhale. He strode over to his duffel and grabbed another smaller bag. Did the man use packing cubes for a weekend trip?

“Why don’t you change into something comfy? I’ll be back in ten.”

“Cool,” she replied, though she felt anything but. She relished taking off her heels, changing out of her itchy dress into a pair of leggings and some sneakers. She unpacked her suitcase, glancing every few moments into the dark abyss outside, until she saw the dim lights of a golf cart outside their cabin.

“Where did you get that?” she said.

“Borrowed it.” He grabbed a hoodie from his duffel. “It’s cold out, put this on.” It was soft and enormous and smelled like him. She tried to conceal the fact she was huffing his laundry detergent as she pulled on the sweater, which almost came to her knees. She rolled the sleeves at her wrists, not making herself look any less ridiculous.

“Nice.” He shook his head. Then, snatching up the bottle of champagne, he said, “Come on, your chariot awaits.” He grabbed her hand. She already felt like she’d guzzled half the bottle.

“The Chariot is one of the cards in the tarot.” He held the door open for her and Sabrina climbed onto the plasticky vinyl bench of the cart that was still running.

Gavin sat next to her and pressed on the gas. “What does it represent?”

“Progress. Determination. Harnessing your energy for forward momentum.”

“Hmm.”

They stopped where the grassy area met the sand. The gibbous moon was shone bright through the feathered clouds in the sky. Gavin came round, in a playful show of chivalry to grab her hand and lead her over to a blanket near the shore. He sat her down on a piece of driftwood set out on the blanket, then he kneeled in front of her.

“OK, so I’ve never done this before, but I think I got all the elements.” He opened another, smaller packing cube and set them out one by one .

“We have the wooden stake for air.” He used a little compass and set it out to the east.

“Were you a Scout? You probably earned all your badges and took your knife permit very seriously.”

He ignored her, but a pink flush on her cheeks was barely visible in the moonlight. Looking down at his task, he continued. “We have teacups as our chalice.” He popped the bottle of champagne, filling the fine china generously before handing her the cup and saucer. He adjusted her hands so that they were to the west.

“For earth, I grabbed some of the rose petals.” He put them to the north.

“And for fire…” He gave a big smile then, causing her heart to flip over in her chest. He lifted out an apple pie donut with a singular candle which he lit before handing it to her.

“Happy birthday,” he said.

Sabrina was dumbfounded. “This is…” He’d made an altar. Like her mother did every year on her solar return.

He scratched the back of his head. “Did I miss something? I referenced a few sources about the different elements, and the directions, and the moon…”

Sabrina still couldn’t talk. Her chest felt like someone was squeezing her with the tight hug she’d needed today. They’d celebrated last weekend, and with all the lead-up to the retreat, she’d lost track of the days—which was saying something for an astrologer.

Her hands trembled and she tried not to squish the donut. She made her intention, blew out the candle, and then set the items in her hand down to give Gavin a hug.

“Thank you,” she said.

He held her for a minute, as she let the feelings flow over her, like the rhythmic, gentle waves of the lake behind them. She’d been dreading her birthday for some time now, knowing it would be different without Mom.

She pulled out of the hug and said, “I’m not sharing my donut.”

He took out another from the bag. “I brought two.”

She smiled and lay down on the blanket, her back against the piece of driftwood, bathing in the moonlight. She’d thought this moment, recreating her treasured tradition without her mother, would feel—well—terrible. But instead of defaulting to tears, she felt like her mother was with her now. Like this was a celebration, and not another act of mourning.

“I have one other small thing,” he said, again with a degree of uncertainty in his eyes.

“More treats?” She sat up to sip champagne from her teacup, enjoying the bubbles popping up to greet her.

He handed her a stack of papers.

“Only you would think paperwork was an appropriate birthday gift.” She snatched the stack out of his hands as he watched understanding dawn.

It was her planner. Or an example of it. In her hands, she held all the elements of the spreadsheet they had worked on together, with cute cursive fonts, practical layouts, and a pastel colour scheme that matched the shop. She didn’t know how the designer had done it, but some of the original Post-its from her wall had been re-created—the same colours, her mother’s words, and an approximation of her handwriting. There were things that Sabrina would change, but she had a sample—something tangible—and it was beautiful.

The tears, obviously, started flowing.

“Shoot,” she said as one dropped onto the pages, which she fanned in the air to dry. Her nose was running and before she thought otherwise, she wiped it with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry.” Her panic made her more self-conscious.

Gavin let out another laugh and said, “I’m your eternal snot rag.”

“I’ll wash it…” Then she would have to give it back to him. She had a tiny, flimsy, meagre excuse to see him after this weekend was over: to return his snot-covered sweater—

“It’s fine, keep the sweater.”

Sabrina recognized magic when she saw it. She held her dreams in her hand. The altar and memory of her mother were juxtaposed with her burgeoning business ideas. Others might see it as coincidence, but Sabrina knew it was a sign. Maybe it was OK to rethink her destiny. She wasn’t moving on without her mother. The truth was, her mom would always be a part of her because she’d shaped the person Sabrina had become. Sabrina could move forward, with her mother’s memory in her heart.

She breathed in the beautiful serendipity of the moment. Even if nothing came of her relationship with Gavin, she was so thankful that she’d met him. He hadn’t only helped her with her business, he’d helped heal her heart and process her grief. He’d pushed her to imagine a new future and forced her to confront the internal critic that was holding her back with scowly eyebrows that said, “Why not?”

“Thank you,” she said, holding the papers up. She couldn’t stop staring at them. “This is so cool.”

***

“ I brought a glitter pen if you want to make notes.”

Sabrina snatched the pen from him, and Gavin made himself comfortable leaning back on the driftwood, finally relaxing.

He filled a second teacup with champagne and sipped while she scribbled away. The moonlight gave her an ethereal glow, as she nibbled on the tip of her pen. He was as enraptured with her as she was with her work. Seeing her this passionate about her calling—it was something he had never experienced himself. He worked hard. He was good at his job. But it didn’t light him up like this. He was glad, even if it was a small gesture, that he could nurture that passion in Sabrina.

“I can do this some other time. You must be tired,” she said, eyes glued to her planner.

He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s peaceful out here.” Plus, he wasn’t looking forward to the claustrophobic shitstorm of pining that awaited him at the honeymoon suite.

“How are you feeling about the competition?” Sabrina asked, still listening as she perused the pages. The fact that she was distracted, and maybe the effects of the champagne he’d guzzled, put him in a more revealing mood. “Nervous, if I’m honest. I always knew that I had more experience than Alfred despite his popularity with the board. But Mariana is smart and friendly.” He downed the rest of his champagne before refilling his cup. “She seems to have the whole package.”

Gavin felt a sharp prick between his eyebrows. “Ow! Did you just throw your glitter pen at me?”

“Yes. And you deserve it.”

He rubbed the spot between his eyes.

“Gavin,” she let out a growl of frustration and flapped her arms up and down. “You’re personable too, or you can be. You made some hilarious puns at supper.”

“I thought it might kelp,” he said.

She started flapping again. “See, you can be charming. Your negative thoughts are the real villain here. You believe you’re anti-social, like it’s a fact of life and not a self-limiting belief.”

He sipped his champagne. She looked like an adorable penguin when she was mad .

“Look at the progress you made with Alfred. And Nila. Even Melanie and Ian like you better—because you’ve made an effort. Give yourself a little more credit.”

“I’ve only been successful with your help.”

“It doesn’t matter how; you were still the one who had to do the socializing.”

He nodded. Maybe he did have the ability to be more considerate than he thought. It seemed like Sabrina believed it.

“I’ll take your feedback under advisement,” he said, hoping to ruffle her again.

Instead, her eyes searched his face, making him thankful for the cool breeze off the water.

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

He narrowed his eyes on her. “Tit for tat.”

She blushed and looked away. “Fine. You go first then. I’m an open book.” She threw her arms out, tilting her face up to the moonlight.

“What happened between you and your fiancé?”

The question had been gnawing away at him since the night at the bar, but her wide-eyed reaction made him want to stuff it back down his throat. Her arms came to wrap around her knees, and she looked down at the sand. “Uhm, well. After my mom passed, Duncan got a job offer in Toronto. He issued an ultimatum—him or the shop.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I chose the shop.”

A muddled rush of sympathy rolled over Gavin. “Did you suggest long distance?” he asked. It was a logical solution to the problem.

“I did but…I think there was a lot of stuff that built up to that moment, to be honest. I’d been dragging my feet about the wedding. At the time, I justified it that I was exhausted between caring for my mom and the shop. Looking back, I wonder if that was an excuse. I’m kind of glad it all worked out the way it did. I don’t think I could ever truly be myself around Duncan. He was nice. It was comfortable. But…” She waved her hands in the air, like she was trying to conjure up an explanation. “He took me fishing every weekend,” she said, like that clarified the situation.

“Oh, do you like fishing?”

“No!” she yelled and threw her head back on a sigh. “I just…He enjoyed fishing so I went along with it, and then I couldn’t say anything…” She ducked her face in her hands. “He got me a tackle box for Christmas.”

Gavin had to laugh then. “Do they even make hip waders in your size?”

“I had to wear children’s ones,” she said solemnly. “The worst was the ice fishing, my hands got so cold.”

He shook his head at her, but something else came to him. Something that struck fear in his chest. “You don’t do that with me, do you?”

“What?”

“Pretend.”

“No.” She looked up at him. “Actually, it’s funny, I was so convinced that we would never be friends that I didn’t even try to get you to like me like I usually do.” She let out a huff of amusement. “I called you Ebenezer, remember?”

“I was equally antagonistic.”

“You were my first nemesis.” She batted her eyelashes at him. “I’m glad,” she said softly. “My turn?”

He stayed silent. He knew she would interpret it as a yes. She was good at that.

“Why aren’t you dating anyone? Like married or something?”

Her eyes still roved over him, stopping at his hair which was blowing in the wind, tracing his cheeks which were flush from the cold. Settling on his lips, which his teeth chewed. “Are you a commitment-phobe?” she probed.

“Do I seem like someone who’s afraid of commitment? ”

“No, that’s what’s been confusing me.” She threw herself back against the driftwood.

“Still trying to puzzle me out? I thought the stars had all the answers.”

She leaned forwards, baited, as he intended. “They show potential, and yours has ‘true love’ written all over it. You may as well be a Disney Princess.”

“I would be the Beast.”

She started picking at the sand. “I just want to understand you.”

The sincerity in her voice threw him. She meant it. There hadn’t been a single soul who had dug deeper into his actions over the years. He was always Grumpy Gavin, the fun police, crusher of souls, destroyer of happiness. No one ever questioned why.

“I can’t afford a girlfriend. Well, a serious one, at least.”

“What?”

“I…my finances are tied up. I’m hoping that if I get the CFO job, the raise will give me the freedom to start dating. It’s on the five-year plan at least.”

“Tied up how? In investments?” She shook her head, laughing a little. “I think you’re being too hard on yourself. Or dating women who are too high maintenance.”

Gavin scratched his hand over the stubble starting to peek out on his jaw.

“When my dad died, he didn’t leave us in the same financial position that you’re in.”

She didn’t interrupt, just looked at him confused.

“He had gambling debts. A lot of them. High-interest loans, impossible payment schedules. He had very little savings, a poor life insurance policy, and my brothers were all about to go off to college. The first few years I was so worried we were going to default on a payment. I started working for IM Securities part-time, I wrote papers for other students, applied for every scholarship and bursary I could get my hands on. I got into a manageable rhythm with my mom’s ‘pension’, house bills, mortgage payments, my brothers’ tuitions…but then this spring the roof collapsed. The whole house needs a reno, especially given mom’s upcoming surgery, so if I don’t get this job…”

“Wait…you’re supporting your entire family financially, and they have no idea?”

He nodded at the ground.

“Why?”

He was silent for a long time, drawing circles in the sand as it slipped around his fingers. He couldn’t tell her the whole truth. But he could expel part of it.

“At first everyone was so upset, and I didn’t want to make the pain worse. My dad had a problem, and I didn’t want that one aspect of his life to colour their memory of him. So, I tried to fix it myself. And now…it’s been going on so long that I feel like I can’t break free.”

She came closer to him and took his hand. Hers was so much smaller, yet her grip was warm and reassuring.

“It’s a huge financial mess. Even though my dad maintained the house, it’s still ancient and nothing has been renovated since he passed. Re-mortgaging would require my mother’s signature now.” He tried to pull his hand away, but she held on tight.“ My personal credit score sucks after years of trying to manage things on my own.” He paused and the lake breeze made him shiver. “I honestly don’t know how else I’m going to come up with the money. I can’t…I won’t gamble for it.”

“Do you know what I appreciate about you the most, Gavin…you don’t tell me what to do. You offer advice, options, and sometimes you’re super judgemental, but you let me make my own decisions. I like that. Can I do the same?”

He squeezed her hand back, smoothing his thumb over hers.

“It can’t be healthy to keep that to yourself. If you can understand the nuance of your father’s memory, can’t you trust them to do the same? ”

“Yeah.”

“Well, new plan. Or, same plan, but with more gumption. We’re going to get you that job, so you can make the right choice free of financial stress. And also, because you deserve it. Then you can start dating. You probably wouldn’t be so uptight if you were getting laid on a regular basis.”

He let out a laugh, exhaling some of the tension. He’d never told anyone before. He had been so afraid of scrutiny. Of the inevitable questions. He wanted to pull the hand he held towards him, press his lips to hers, and whisper that he’d already found her.

“I bet I can picture her,” she continued. “Effortlessly stylish, tall, polished. Ooh maybe a British accent—I’m getting Kate Middleton vibes. She wears actual prescription glasses. Successful lawyer or surgeon or something, well read, wakes up at five for her matcha tea and Pilates practice.” She patted his hand before taking it out of his grip. “We can make a checklist in the morning.”

Gavin felt like a rock had settled in the pit of his stomach. The description was not unlike what he’d always dreamed for himself. Predictable. Compatible. Simple. And not at all what he wanted. Because he wanted laughter. Chaos.

All he wanted was her.

“Hey, do you mind if I drive us home?” Her words sliced through his confused thoughts.

“What…uhh, yeah.” He stood up. “You know how to drive, right?”

“Foot on gas, hands turn the wheel.”

They gathered up the spread on the beach in silence. She clearly didn’t understand the packing cube system. After some rearranging, Gavin strategically tied down the items in the back of the cart as Sabrina clambered up into the driver’s seat.

Before she started the golf cart, she said, “Thank you so much for tonight, Gavin. I was dreading my birthday. I was afraid of the grief, but this was exactly what I needed. It made me feel like my mom was still a part of today.”

He nodded, hating that her words seemed to wrap around his heart, squeezing so hard it was almost painful.

“I’m so glad we’re friends.” She patted his leg.

Friends .

The word felt like acid, corroding him from the inside out.

He studied her. Sabrina was good at befriending people. But he was good at sniffing out bullshit—and the way she was fidgeting with her sleeves, fumbling with the keys, and avoiding his eye contact, told him all he needed to know.

“You’re such a great friend, Sabrina.”

She attempted a smile that paled in comparison to her usual radiance.

He knew it was reckless, the biggest gamble he’d considered in the past ten years—but what if he didn’t wait for Monday. What if they could make this relationship real this weekend. He wouldn’t let it impact his job performance; in fact, it would likely enhance it. Every time he kissed Sabrina he felt more relaxed, more fun, a little more daring. A new plan was forming, one that he recognized contained very little logic. He didn’t know how he’d manage their relationship going forward, with all his financial secrets still plaguing him, but he would find a way. He would take this risk, and if he played his cards right, maybe he could convince her to take a chance on him too.

And then, he clung on for dear life.

***

“ W ooo!” Sabrina yelled as the golf cart raced across the field, her whole body rocketing upwards with every bump.

“Sabrina, slow down. ”

With the woods up ahead, she cranked the steering wheel. She went to press what she thought was the brake, which turned out to be the gas again, causing the cart to skid out towards the cluster of ferns.

“Tokyo drriiiiiiifffttt,” she yelled, before her foot did in fact find the brake, the cart rocking ominously to the side before settling on all four tires.

“What the hell, Sabrina?” She’d been thrown against Gavin, and she could feel his chest heaving before he pushed her off and started patting her down all over.

“Are you OK?” he asked.

“That was amazing. Best birthday present ever.”

“I can’t believe you have a driver’s license…”

“Oh, I don’t.” She hopped out to make sure they hadn’t lost any of the stuff that Gavin had taken five years of her life to tie down at the back of the cart. In fairness, everything was still there. But her words faltered as she stared at the carnage she’d wrought.

“What? Are you hurt?” Gavin jumped out and rushed over to her. She stared at the remains of shredded leaves, torn-up earth, and exposed roots.

“What is it?” he said.

“I killed the Leadership Fern.”

Gavin looked down at its limp carcass, sprawled in pieces on the ground. He started laughing.

“Gavin, this isn’t funny, this is such a bad omen. The symbol of your workplace success and I’ve…”

Gavin laughed harder than she’d ever seen him, doubled over, wiping tears from his eyes.

“Come here, Tink, we’ll fix it.” He took her into his arms.

She buried her face in his abdomen, the words coming out muffled. “We can’t, it’s destroyed. Your leadership is dead.” Yet another thing she’d bungled today .

“I have an idea.” Gavin killed the lights on the golf cart.

***

T wenty minutes later, covered in dirt, Gavin drove them home to their cabin. Sabrina knew she shouldn’t be proud of what they’d done, but it had fulfilled all her Parent Trap summer camp fantasies. They took off their muddy shoes outside of the cabin. Gavin lined them up neatly on the wooden porch before they let themselves in.

“Here’s the plan.” His face was flush, his smile wide, and so fucking sexy. He dug a mini-vacuum out of his duffel bag.

“Who packs a vacuum cleaner?” And why did that turn her on?

“Sometimes hotel rooms are dirty,” he said. “Besides, this little buddy is about to save our asses, so no complaining.”

“It’s a vacuum, not a friend, Gavin.”

“Change your clothes, hide the evidence, and if you’re confronted about it tomorrow…” He came up and grabbed her chin, looking her dead in the eye. It made her legs feel like jelly. “No smiling.”

She shook her head and tried to keep her lips from quivering upwards. He raised an eyebrow and she relaxed her face.

“Good girl,” he said, low and gravelly, his lips brushing her ear.

He let go of her chin. Sabrina’s legs faltered and she stumbled backwards to flop onto the bed.

“I’m going to return the cart.”

She’d never seen this side of him. She was reminded of what Gladys had said about him pulling pranks when he was younger. Sabrina felt she could keep stodgy, responsible Gavin at bay. But this man—he was a different beast.

“Gavin Glengarry, you really are kind of evil,” she said, the knowledge dawning .

“You have no idea.” He looked at her, with a half-smile, his eyes hooded. It gave her shivers. Like it was a promise of something more.

It was fortunate that he left the cabin because she was dangerously close to throwing herself at him. This evening, she’d tried to resurrect the intimacy-blocking wall between them with her comments about being just friends, so she could focus all her efforts on Gavin’s work image. But she’d seen it in his eyes: he’d viewed her flimsy falsehood not as a deterrent but as a personal challenge.

Sabrina groaned and scrubbed her face. She was so uncertain. Now, more than ever, she understood the gravity of Gavin’s situation: he needed this job and her help. But was she the kind of girl that he could see himself dating? With her astrology planner, failing witchcraft shop, and lack of personal organization? She supposed she could…talk to him about it? He was good at these sorts of frank conversations, but she was overwhelmed by awkwardness.

She changed, pulled the covers up over her head, and feigned sleep when she heard him come back. She clung to cowardice, to the side of the bed, to the only guarantee she would walk out of this cabin with her heart in one piece. The covers rustled and she felt the bed dip down beside her. All was quiet for a minute, save for the cadence of Gavin’s breathing and the faint croaking of frogs outside. Every muscle in her body was taut.

“Good night, Sabrina,” he said. Then, excruciating silence.