The Fate Date (Glengarry Curse #1)

22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Sabrina

M elanie fidgeted with a few last pieces of hair, making sure they curled forwards to frame Sabrina’s cheekbones, just like Carey Mulligan in The Great Gatsby .

Sabrina turned her head to get a better look and caught Melanie’s eye in the reflection. “I love it, thank you.”

Melanie had invited all the partners who wanted to get ready together to her cabin while the IM Securities board and employees engaged in some “strategic planning”.

“God, I miss it,” Melanie said, placing Sabrina’s beaded headband carefully on her head. “Don’t get me wrong, I loved being home with the kids when they were young, but now that they’re both in school, I’m thinking about renting a chair some place to get back into it.”

“You should. You’re so talented.”

Melanie gave her hair a spray. “I’m so out of practice. It’ll require a lot of retraining. Every time I think of it, I get overwhelmed,” she admitted. They were feelings Sabrina remembered well—panicked, grasping, her lack mindset ruling her decisions.

“Have you talked to anyone about it?” she asked Melanie. “Maybe a current stylist could break the training into smaller pieces? Maybe it’s not as insurmountable as you think?” Sabrina could picture the perfect affirmations deck in the shop for Melanie. But she kept silent about that.

“I agree,” Bethany said, coming up behind the pair to apply her lipstick in the mirror .

Effie joined her. “I mean, if Sabrina can reform Gavin Glengarry into an actual human being, I’d take her advice. She must have magic on her side.” Sabrina caught Effie’s Cheshire grin in the mirror. Was she just being paranoid? Or should she be worried about Effie’s casual mentions of her alter- well, real, ego?

Ashley affixed a ring on their right ear. “I didn’t even recognize Gavin. I met him at the Christmas party, years ago. He stood in the corner for ten minutes, insulted the waitstaff, and left.”

“He’s so different than what Jonathan described,” Min said.

“What are you all talking about?” Bethany said. “I had a twenty-minute conversation with him at lunch. He’s not usually so friendly?”

Sabrina tried to suppress her smile. She was glad that others were seeing the more considerate side of Gavin. Was it weird to be proud of someone for being less grumpy?

“You’ve brought out such a change in him, Sabrina,” Melanie whispered in her ear.

Sabrina wanted to believe it was because of her, but she knew it was all Gavin’s hard work. He was finally showing others who he was deep down, the person she’d seen all along. And it made her want to try to do the same. Tonight. She’d tell him tonight. And pray to the wheel of fate that he was all in—like she was.

***

T he roulette ball circled the table, the onlookers glued to its trajectory. Gavin knew the outcome didn’t matter. It wrought carnage either way—either in the form of naive confidence or despair. He witnessed the contrasting groans and cheers in the crowd. The tables across the dining-room-turned-casino each featured a different game. Dealers in bowties flicked cards with precision. Waitstaff swirled with drink trays, maneuvering as if choreographed through the crowd. Even Sue sported a tuxedo-themed tracksuit. The dark windows reflected the glitzy, glittering frenzy inside.

Gavin hastened for the bar. “Balvenie Peated, neat,” he told the bartender.

These sights and sounds always catapulted him back into the past. Though most of his damaging gambling had occurred online, much of Gavin’s first year of university was spent at the casino. He hadn’t placed a bet in years, but it didn’t stop the craving to feel that sickening stimulation. He hated that the temptation still lurked; the beast he refused to uncage, but still couldn’t tame.

Malcolm joined him at the bar. “A ridiculous display,” he grunted, ordering a Crown on the rocks. “I’m glad I’ve got you alone. We need to talk.”

Gavin tipped the bartender and took a much-needed sip of his drink.

“You regained a modicum of your usual competency at the planning session this afternoon. I think I have over half the board convinced of your candidacy,” Malcolm stated.

“That’s fantastic.” Gavin’s chest tightened with anxiety? Hope? Trepidation?

“There are a few lost causes to Mariana. From the looks of things, Bojana intends to use Alfred as a puppet for her radical investment schemes—her money for his vote—and she’s pushing hard for his selection. The best use of your time over the next day and a half would be to convince Omar, Leslie, and Jonathan. I can’t get a read on them.”

“They hold their cards close to their chests?” Gavin smiled and raised his eyebrows at Malcolm, who scoffed.

“It’s not time to joke. Your career, the legacy of my business hangs on the line here.” The man knocked back his whiskey in one gulp.

Heads turned as Sabrina and Effie entered the makeshift casino. Sabrina was breathtaking. Her dress, covered in cream and gold beads glinted across the room at him. It resembled one of those 1920s flapper dresses that, knowing Sabrina, was probably authentically vintage. She shifted to reveal the open back; large swaths of milky skin he ached to run his hand over. Alfred, in a grand display, glided over to greet Effie, fawning over her curve-hugging pink sequin gown. Sabrina twinkled her fingers at him from across the room, her arms covered in matching silk gloves that Gavin wanted to peel off her.

“I don’t understand why they even invited spouses to this thing. Complete waste of money,” Malcolm grumbled beside Gavin.

“A few weeks ago, I would have agreed with you, but I can see the value now.” Gavin found he didn’t hate talking to his colleagues so much outside the office environment. He’d had a whole conversation with Bethany at lunch earlier about starting her own Speech-Language Pathology practice. This afternoon he’d talked at length with Ashley about the Ottawa Charge, the PWHL team. Even Ian was more relaxed with Melanie around.

“Well, bringing your sidepiece helped with some of the board members, so that’s good at least.”

“Her name is Sabrina,” Gavin said, voice low in warning.

Malcolm waved in his face. “Whatever, the board finds her charming. It escapes me why some members think that matters, but she’s served her purpose.” He ordered another whiskey. “If I can offer you a piece of advice,” he said, scrutinizing Sabrina from across the room, “focus on work. Ian almost ran the company right into the ground when we were first starting with all that fertility bullshit. His relationship and family were a distraction. He almost ruined his whole career before it even began.”

Gavin took a sip of scotch to mask the sour taste in his mouth. “Malcolm, that’s personal information that—”

Again, Malcolm waved him away and downed his drink.

Gavin couldn’t fathom the journey Melanie and Ian had been on, but as Sabrina had intuitively understood, it hadn’t been an easy one. Yet their relationship seemed to be strengthened by the curveballs life had thrown them. “I disagree. I think Ian’s business success was enhanced by his empathy.”

Three weeks ago, Gavin would have been oblivious to the way partnerships with others—friends, family, witchy fake girlfriends he couldn’t stop thinking about—enriched his life, not held him back. And the strange thing was that he seemed to do the same for Sabrina, just by being himself.

“Empathy,” Malcolm snorted. “The company is doomed if you adopt a bleeding heart too, Gavin.”

Gavin had believed that for so long, but now he couldn’t deny the evidence of Sabrina’s kindhearted success. Since quitting gambling, Gavin had devoted himself to chasing a risk-free life. Anything that brought that same rush of excitement had been exorcised out of his daily rituals. Personal attachments had too many uncontrollable variables, and he’d avoided them completely, just like the tables. The sterile existence Malcolm was suggesting, however, not only seemed unfulfilling—but impossible. Gavin couldn’t escape falling for her. He wanted to embrace the hazards, the bumps, the highs and the lows to hold on to her heart. Because relationships were beautifully challenging. Delightfully messy. Perfectly imperfect. And included someone with an unhealthy obsession with glitter pens. Since his dad had passed, he’d emulated Malcolm, but the future his mentor was proposing now seemed jaded, lonely, and shortsighted. And one that he wanted no part of.

Omar, one of the undecided board members, came to join them at the bar. Malcolm shifted so Omar could order his drink, and Gavin noticed a crowd gathering. Alfred had his phone out, and Sabrina’s frantic eyes met his from across the room.

Omar turned to him. “Gavin, I was looking at last quarter’s numbers and I was wondering—”

“Excuse me,” Gavin cut him off, and before either man could reply, he bolted across the casino floor to investigate.

***

T his was his retribution. And it wasn’t fair.

When Sabrina had entered the dining-area-turned-casino, she’d been captivated. The light bounced off the cherry wood roulette tables, and an excited agitation permeated the room.

She’d spotted Gavin at the bar, drawn by his roving gaze. She’d waved, the gloves making the gesture feel strange. After his revelations last night about his father’s gambling, would this be a difficult environment for him?

Alfred swanned over, cooing over Effie. They really were a perfect couple. Alfred loved bestowing grand displays of attention and Effie loved receiving them—Sabrina had seen the Leo placements in their charts. Jonathan came up to greet them and Sabrina was dragged into a conversation about research and development with the men.

“…And I said to Gavin, we should have some criteria to evaluate proposals. It’s a huge organizational risk that we hadn’t considered before, a failure on his part. So, I took the initiative—”

Sabrina forced herself to look away from the raucous crowd and focus on the conversation.

“That’s not what happened,” she said.

Alfred stilled. Effie smiled brighter. Jonathan studied her.

“Sorry?” Alfred said.

“At your work, that’s not what happened. I know because…” Because Gavin had proposed the project Alfred was discussing based on her astrology spreadsheet. But she couldn’t very well tell them that.

“I remember Gavin came home frustrated one night. He’d shot down one of the projects you were interested in. We talked about it, and he recognized that having set criteria for investment opportunities would be a solution to the conflict you experienced. You’ve been working on it together for the past two weeks.”

“I heard something to that effect last night,” Jonathan said before taking a sip of his drink. Sabrina exhaled her relief. She wasn’t trying to call Alfred out, but it was unfair that he was trying to take sole credit for a project and throw Gavin under the bus at the same time. She’d weathered one difficult conversation already today—she could do it again now, especially if Gavin’s reputation was at stake.

“Sabrina the witch, ever the problem solver. Did the tarot cards help Gavin come up with the plan?”

Her breathing hitched. Her armpits felt clammy. “I…what?”

“Has Gavin been consorting with wood nymphs and spirit guides for his business forecasting?” Alfred bellowed, attracting a crowd, before drawing out his phone from his pocket like he was unsheathing a sword, the weapon he needed to destroy her reputation.

“Sabrina, the Good Witch.” He read her Instagram profile aloud, as onlookers started flocking over to the scene, like moths to Sabrina’s flaming face. “Tarot Reader and Astrologer, just follow the Yellow Brick Road.”

As if the situation couldn’t get any worse, Gavin’s arm came around her at that moment. “You look stunning this evening.” He pecked her cheek and ducked his mouth close to her ear to whisper, “What’s wrong?”

“We were admiring Sabrina’s magical social media presence,” Alfred sneered. Gavin’s hand around her stiffened and he raised himself up to full height.

“Have you seen this, Gavin?” Alfred asked, in conspiratorial glee, passing his phone around the crowd .

She forced herself to look up at Gavin and Fmouthed the word, “Sorry.”

He looked furious. He took a sip of his drink and then levelled Alfred with a terrifying scowl. “Yeah, I have. it’s fucking impressive.”

Alfred’s smug smile began to falter.

Sabrina saw Gavin transform into the ruthless businessman she’d met three weeks ago, only this time his cutting ire was directed at Alfred. “Sabrina started a new social media strategy about a month ago, how much has your follower count grown in that time, Sabrina?”

She cleared her throat and said, “About 30,000 followers.”

“How many views did you get on your last video?”

“1.2 million,” she said, a little more confident now.

People were staring now, but not for the same reasons. Gavin looked around at the board members who had been whispering in the crowd. “How many of you have had that much traction with your business endeavours in such a short period of time?” He looked back to Alfred and said, “She’s also thinking about launching her own merchandise, an astrology planner.”

“That’s so cool, Sabrina,” Bethany said. “Do you do readings and stuff?”

Sabrina took a shaky step forwards. “Yes, both astrology and tarot.”

“She charges a fortune, of course,” Gavin said; though his face was still stiff, his eyes caught hers.

“You don’t believe in all that, do you?” Omar said to Gavin.

Gavin looked away quickly.

He had always been accepting of her spiritual beliefs, but he’d never identified with them himself.

“Believe in what?” he asked, voice menacingly low, like he was daring his colleague to elaborate.

“All of that new age magic…stuff,” Omar said .

The crowd was silent as Gavin downed the rest of the amber liquid in his glass. “I wouldn’t tempt fate by saying I didn’t. My family already has a curse on it.”

“A curse?” Effie asked.

Gavin’s brothers had made allusions to a curse, but she thought they had been joking?

“Passed down for generations,” he winced, like he was resigning himself to the revelation.

Despite the excitement of the casino tables, most of the party was now gathered near the coat racks close to the exit, finding Sabrina’s humiliation to be more interesting. Gavin set down his glass on a nearby table. He turned to her, his face soft, like the heart-eyes Instagram filter. She felt the edges of her vision blur out the other people at the party. Hands in his pockets, he dipped his head low to her, like they weren’t surrounded by a crowd. Like it was only the two of them, intimate, as it had been last night.

“Would you like to hear it?”

***

H e wanted to grab the offer and stuff it back into his mouth. Sabrina’s eyes pleaded with his dignity and he briefly registered how far gone he was for this woman. He’d do anything to keep her attention on him like that. Even sharing what amounted to a childhood bedtime poem in front of his colleagues.

He cleared his throat. Gilbert was the best at it, turning it into his own dramatic performance, where all the remaining brothers rumbled out their lines for fear of being punched in the groin if they didn’t cooperate. Gavin knew it by heart. The recitations at such an impressionable age had been seared into his memory like the phone numbers of childhood friends, or the lyrics to All Star by Smash Mouth. He remembered his father’s deep voice. The smell of sawdust or paint that lingered on his clothing. The warmth of the blankets as he was tucked into bed for the night. He tried to focus on that, and not the curious stares that were making him want to duck under the covers like he would have when he was six.

“The ship had been roiling for six weeks straight,

Hold reeking of mildew and vermin.

Their only salvation turned into damnation

They clutched their stomachs a turnin’.”

There was a smattering of chuckles around the room, as the group realized what they were in for. Gavin tried to focus his attention on Sabrina, whose eyes were soaking in every word.

“A far cry from the Glen in Inverness-shire

Where the river Garry flows.

A crofter’s eviction, the Highland affliction

They fled to escape their woes.

The deadly fate they never expected

Was the rampage of ship fever.

Flesh burning and aching, breath rasping and shaking

Leaving corpse after corpse for the griever.

As yet another body found it’s watery tomb

She couldn’t evade the parry.

Such was the fate, of her boys four through eight

Spelling doom for the family Glengarry.

But Gertie Glengarry refused to accep t

The deaths that loomed so near.

Though a storm raged above, she held fast to her loves

Knowing it would conquer her fear.

Determined and destined to flee their fate

Her four boys she did tote.

Rain lashing, tears splashing, salt-water gnashing

She brought them to the bow of the boat.

First she tried prayer. Then she tried wailing.

Begging, bargaining, a tale she did spin.

Then she hurled her pleas to the vicious seas

‘I’ll give my life for my kin.’”

Gavin had never enjoyed the rapt attention of an audience like this, but now he could almost understand Gilbert’s obsession with it. Turning to the crowd, he tried to embrace the gravitas of the moment. The next stanza was always his favourite. He’d drawn it for an art contest at school, much to the judges’ horror. His mother still had the picture framed.

“Leaping up through the air out of the watery depths

As lightning bloomed in the mist

Skin slick as midnight, red eyes a pure fright

Its mane of serpents did twist.

The horse-like kelpie pawed at the ground

Its breath hot and greedy.

Its ruthless magic was always tragic

If only her plight was less needy .

‘Your life for a curse,’ the kelpie said

‘But think wisely on this deal.

The sea is frigid, my conjuring rigid,

Magic that generations will feel.’”

Melanie clutched Ian close. Bethany draped herself over Mariana. Even Effie was enraptured, handing her drink to Alfred to hold.

“Gertie gave a nod and with her destiny sealed

The kelpie spoke the words aloud.

For better or worse, the Glengarry curse

Now became a sacred vow.”

Abandoning his performing prowess, Gavin took a moment to look at Sabrina here, hoping that the verses of the curse might explain things for her. Why he’d reacted so weirdly. Why the sins of his father were his enduring struggle.

“‘I curse these babes to a fated love

Where opposites attract.

A mirror, an inverse, always the reverse

Duality comes with the pact.

‘The first child will be marred with secrets aplenty,

The burden too big for one person.

He’ll learn to share, or forever despair.

Instead of love, his condition will worsen.

‘The second child won’t see until later

The friendship that was always more.

Through contest and distance, and lots of persistence ,

A love of determination and lore.

‘The third child will be precocious and prideful,

Darting through life on a whim.

But love builds a dam, his choices will jam

Deciding if he’ll sink or swim.

‘The youngest of all will keep them safe

Guiding them through the curse.

Tender and healing, never concealing

Or the effects will be adverse.’

Gertie had left Scotland for this very chance

So she kissed her family farewell.

A shot at more, life better than before,

Her future for theirs to be well.

A wave came sweeping all the children away

To the galley safely below.

Gertie stood tall, though she wanted to bawl,

As she gathered the courage to go.

The kelpie bowed and she stumbled forwards,

Its skin sludgy and oozing.

Settled atop, there was no way to stop

The mane of serpents from fusing.

And quick as a whip, it plunged back in.

The kelpie returned to the sea.

The life of the mother, for each of the brothers

And love to never be free.”

His colleagues crowded him, Sue threw an arm over his shoulder and applauded his “killer oratory skills”. Sabrina’s eyes were unfocused, like her mind was a million miles away. Had he miscalculated?

Nila asked loudly, “But is it real?”

That got Sabrina’s attention. Her gaze sharpened and he sensed his answer was of infinite importance. Only he didn’t know what the answer was. His father, the firstborn in his family, had sworn it was real. He would wax poetic about how their mother, his English tutor, had given him the courage to seek help and understand his dyslexia.

But that wasn’t the only secret his father held. There was also the secret they shared. And Gavin had lived in fear for so long trying to quench the thirst to gamble, trying to escape the fate that had befallen his father, that he’d never fully considered the love aspect of the curse before. Because if the curse was real—so were the challenges that came with it.

But looking into Sabrina’s pleading hazel eyes, he wished, for a moment, that the magic was real, that maybe it was fate. He took her hand, gliding his fingers over the silky glove and raised it to his mouth and brushed his lips against the silk of her gloves, holding eye-contact. “You tell me, Nila.”

Sabrina blushed and leaned her forehead against his chest to try and hide it. Warmth pooled in the spot. “Could we get some air?” she mumbled into his lapels.